Sugar Plum

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Sugar Plum Page 2

by Jenika Snow


  "Yes, Professor." I sighed, giving Rosie a defeated look, although the truth was, I wasn’t going to listen to him like he was my father. He had a stick up his ass the size of an old oak tree.

  He retreated, seemingly pleased with what he'd achieved, and I groaned in frustration. My classmates were staring, my cheeks were burning up, and we hadn't even started the lesson. I remained flushed and upset for the entirety of Mr. Sullivan's lesson.

  Once we were finally dismissed, Rosie did her best to make me feel better for my humiliation, but I was inconsolable.

  I was just putting away my books when someone touched my forearm, firm fingers wrapping around me. "Hey."

  I looked up, eyes widening when I came face-to-face with one of my classmates. I hadn't spoken to him before, but I knew who he was well enough, since every girl in the lecture hall, including Rosie, had a crush on the guy. His name was Sean, his family was loaded, he knew his status, and it made him cocky as hell.

  Which the latter was extremely unattractive to me.

  "Hey," I muttered, glancing at his fingers on my arm. "How can I help you?" I pulled my arm free.

  "Well, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation with our darling professor," Sean smirked. "Looks like you're in quite the pickle."

  "And this is your business how?" I questioned him with a playful smile on my lips.

  "It just so happens my mother is the event planner for that party. It's all she's talked about for months. I hear it's the event of the season."

  "I see," Rosie cut in, putting her hand on her hip. "It looks like you could help out my friend then."

  He grinned. "You want a ticket?" Sean asked me, feigning innocence and like he wasn’t looking for something in return. He knew damn well I did. I couldn't afford it all by myself, not if I was trying to be stealthy about this.

  "What do I have to do for it?" I asked, suspicious.

  "Wear a sexy little outfit, and put your hair up so I can see more of your pretty face," he told me with a smirk. "And be my arm candy for the night, of course."

  And there it was. His price. "I don't think—"

  "We'll think about it," Rosie inserted, giving me a stern look. "And we'll let you know."

  "And you're what, her manager?" He laughed.

  "You could say that." Rosie winked at him. "See you later, Sean."

  He nodded, winking at me before slinging his backpack over his shoulder and making his way out of the lecture hall. Once we were alone, Rosie instantly started gushing. But I couldn't bring myself to get excited.

  "This is perfect! I told you things were going to work out!"

  "There's one very important thing you're forgetting," I reminded her. "How am I going to make a move on Bastian if I go to the party with Sean?"

  She looked deep in thought for a second. "I have an idea."

  "Don't you always?" I giggled. "Okay. Explain this grand plan to me and I'll see if I can make it work."

  Rosie planned a shopping trip for us that Friday. We didn't have any classes that day, so we showed up to the Meadow Lake Mall bright and early with a purpose. I might not have enough money to buy a party ticket, but I had enough to get a decent dress. Hopefully.

  "We need to find the most gorgeous dress," she told me. "Something that will make Bastian subconsciously think of you, even if he doesn't know who you are."

  "He calls me sugar plum," I said softly. "He used to call me his littlest sugar plum."

  "Perfect!" Rosie clapped her hands together with excitement. "We're going to find a plum-colored dress. It will look perfect with your hair too."

  "You're so excited about this." I laughed. "It's as if you're the one going!"

  "Let me live vicariously through you," she said. "You know my parents won't let me date until I'm eighty, not when I’m living with them and they're footing my bills. Like… all of them. This is all I get."

  We made our way through store after store, rifling through racks of festive clothing. Nothing felt right though, and by the time lunchtime rolled around, my stomach was rumbling, and we were still empty-handed. Rosie came to a stop in front of an expensive department store.

  "Not there." I shook my head. "I won't be able to afford it."

  "Come on," she begged. "Let's at least have a look. What if you find the perfect dress?"

  "The perfect dress that's way out of my price range." I sighed, but nevertheless I followed her into the store.

  The place was magical. It even smelled good, like expensive perfume. Rosie led me right to the designer section of the store and began going through the racks, but I stopped in front of a mannequin wearing the most perfect dress I'd ever set eyes on.

  It was long, with a shimmery purple train and tight in all the right places, while generously fanning out under the waist. There were ruffles on the shoulders, but it didn't look like a dress a little girl would wear. No, it looked like a dress fit for a queen. Bastian's queen.

  Me.

  "This one," I spoke up, catching Rosie's attention. "This is the one."

  She gasped when she saw the dress then gasped again when she checked the price tag. Chewing her bottom lip, we tried to work out a way to get around the hefty cost.

  "You're going to have to use your Dad's credit card."

  "That's only for emergencies," I reminded her, shaking my head. "Somehow I don't think this constitutes as one."

  "How many times have you used it since he gave it to you?"

  "Zero," I muttered.

  "See? He won't mind. He'll want to spoil his favorite girl. Just try it on first. Let's see if you're still in love with it then." She touched the material again. “In fact, we can return it afterward and he won’t even know.”

  I didn’t think that was how it worked, but I wanted the dress too badly to talk myself out of it.

  Begrudgingly, I took the dress into the changing room. The moment the rich, plum-colored velvet and silk slid onto my skin, I knew it. This was it, the dress.

  I walked out of the changing room and Rosie clapped with excitement when she saw it, saying, "It's settled. You have to get it!"

  And then that was it. I was going through with this. I was actually going to do this… with Bastian.

  At the checkout counter, I handed the sales assistant Daddy's credit card, hating myself. Rosie even found a pair of silver stilettos and a matching silver sequin clutch for me. Luckily, they were more affordable, but still, the whole outfit added up, and I knew Daddy would ask me about it.

  But it was all worth it, and when my fingers gripped the bag with my new purchases, I beamed, knowing this was meant to be.

  Rosie and I settled down in one of the mall's cafés to discuss her master plan for the day of the party.

  "I've got it all worked out," she gushed. "So. Here's the plan. Sean asked you to the party, right? So he'll expect you to be with him the entire night. But what if... we tell him we both want to go?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean," she went on excitedly. "He'll show up with two girls on his arm, which he won't be able to resist. And it means I can distract him while you put the moves on Bastian."

  "You really think that's going to work? That he can get another ticket?"

  "Of course." She nudged me. "You're gravely underestimating my charm. I can distract him for hours."

  "I'd rather not know what that entails." I giggled. "But wait. What about Professor Sullivan?”

  She scoffs. “Who cares? We’re adults and he’s an ass. He’s got some kind of superiority complex bossing around his students. I mean, we pay for our damn classes. If I want to not show up all week, that’s on me.” I can hear in her voice she’s getting pissed. “Fuck him.”

  I snort. "God, I hope this works out," I muttered, biting my lower lip.

  “It will. Don’t worry.”

  I really hoped she was right.

  Three

  Holly

  It was Sunday again, and Bastian was sitting on the opposite side of the table whil
e I fought the urge to play footsie with him. Any excuse to touch him was constantly on my mind.

  My gaze was trained right on him as he talked to Dad, and my heartbeat sped up every time he addressed me. After we were done with lunch, I retreated to my room, knowing I needed time alone and to think. I was also afraid I’d make a fool out of myself if I stayed, given my current state of mind.

  I called Rosie and spent twenty minutes telling her how irresistible Bastian looked that night.

  "The man is a silver fox," she purred. "You have got to make your move."

  "What about the New Year's party?"

  "That's your backup plan."

  I laughed softly. "You think I should just jump his bones?"

  "You'll never know how he'd react if you don't."

  I could picture her winking on the other end of the line, and I groaned.

  There was a knock on my door, and I said a quick goodbye to Rosie before calling out for whoever was on the other side of the door to enter.

  Bastian opened the door, his tall figure overwhelming my doorframe. "Hey, sugar plum.

  My face heated at his endearment. Like it always did.

  “Your dad asked me to tell you I'll be spending the night. Apparently, there was a fire in my apartment building."

  I sat up, furrowing my brows. "A fire? Is everything okay?"

  "Yes, it was a couple floors below me." He nodded. "I was just going to hole up in a hotel, but you know how your dad is.” He grinned. “Besides, I'd rather stay here. You two always make me feel at home."

  "Of course." I flushed. "Did you want me to set up the guest bedroom for you?"

  "I can do it. Just give me the bedding. You don't need to go to the trouble."

  "No, it's no problem. I like it." I smiled shyly, wishing I were braver. "I'll set it up now."

  "Thanks, Holly."

  I kept my gaze trained on the floor and was almost by the door when I changed my mind.

  Oh my God. Am I actually going to do this?

  I closed the door, and Bastian turned around, his eyes conveying his surprise.

  "Something the matter?"

  "Y-Yes," I stuttered. Oh, God. Forget being confident, I was already a nervous wreck. "I... I've been thinking about it, and I'd like to ask you for my Christmas present early."

  "Is that so?" He chuckled, pulling out his wallet. "How much is the dress, kiddo?"

  "What?" I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t like him calling me kiddo. It made me think of how this might be a huge mistake, because he still saw me as that and not the woman I’d become.

  "The dress?" His tone questioned me. "Or books? A trip? Something you don't want to mention to your dad?"

  "I don't need money." I felt tears burning my eyes and turned my back to him. "God, I'm so stupid for even trying," I whispered to myself.

  Bastian's palm wrapped around my forearm, and I tried to shrug him off, but he wouldn't let go.

  "What do you want, sweetheart?"

  His voice was the softest torture, and I knew I couldn't hold back my true feelings anymore. I’d been keeping them inside for years.

  "I want you to tell me if there's any chance of—" I swallowed, my lashes fluttering. I faced him but refused to look into his face. "—of us ever... spending s-some time alone.”

  "Alone?" His brows knitted together. "Is there something you need me to sort out for you?"

  I groaned in frustration, running my hands through my hair. "I want to go on a date with you." There. I said it. The truth was out in the open now.

  "A date?" he repeated. "A date, right. As my—"

  "Your woman," I interrupted. Oh my God. His woman? I was screwing this all up. "Your... I don't know. Someone you want to pursue. Someone you dream about kissing. Someone who you keep thinking about...." My face was on fire.

  "Oh, Holly." His eyes burned with unspoken pain and he let go of my arm.

  "What?" I looked pleadingly into his eyes. "I'm twenty years old. Why is that so wrong?"

  "Not only are you who you are, but... you're so much younger than me, sugar plum. It's—"

  "You still think I'm just a little kid," I accused him. "You think I'm still a child who needs looking after, Bastian, but I grew up a long time ago. I'm not a little girl anymore."

  "Oh, honey. I can see that. Don't you think I know that, Holly?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he was this nervous, every muscle in his body was taut, making his shirt seem to tighten. I could barely stop myself from licking my lips. "Don't you think I spend every waking moment knowing you're no longer the little girl who used to sit on my lap?" He groaned, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "I wish I still saw you the same way, Holly. But I don't think that's possible."

  Was he saying what I thought he was? Emboldened by his words, I took a step forward and reached out with trembling fingers. I laid a palm flat against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. It was fast, just like mine.

  "What do you think of me as, Uncle Bastian?"

  I knew I'd made a mistake the moment the words left my lips. I'd called him Uncle, just as I had all those years ago. It was an old habit though, almost like a title. It wasn’t because I actually saw him as that type of family. I was sure he was going to pull back now, break the tension. The moment would be over.

  But Bastian didn't move back. Instead, he raised his clenched hand to my face, running his knuckles over my lips in the lightest of motions. I saw stars. I wanted nothing more than to beg him to kiss me. But I was frozen in the moment, watching him and waiting for his next move.

  "I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." His voice was a faint whisper, his words like a kiss against my skin.

  "Holly, are you up here?"

  We sprang apart like we'd been struck by lightning. I flushed so deep I felt heat in my cheeks burning me up from the inside. Daddy was standing in the hallway, oblivious to what had just—almost—happened between his best friend and me.

  "Holly, get Bastian the plaid bedding from the laundry room, please," he went on. "And set up the bed in the guestroom."

  "Will do," I called out, my voice shaking. I turned away from Bastian, even though that was the last thing I wanted, and opened my door. I made my way down the hallway, thankful my father hadn’t realized Bastian was in my room. There was no explaining that.

  I heard Bastian and Daddy talking, and when I reached the laundry room, I leaned against the door, whispering Bastian's name, wondering if that had all really happened.

  Had we really almost... kissed?

  I tried to distract myself by grabbing the bedding and heading into the guestroom. I set up Bastian's bed for the night, fluffing up the pillows, smoothing my hand over the comforter, imaging being on the bed with him.

  My face got even hotter at the images that slammed into my mind.

  My hands slid down the smooth, rich cotton and I bit my lower lip. Rosie's words rang true in my mind, reminding me that I needed to make a move. If something fell through with the New Year's party, this could be my chance. Besides… I only lived once. I loved Bastian, so much so that no other guy compared to him. No other man would ever compare to him. The very thought of being sexual with anyone but him had distaste filling me.

  I moved away from the bed, more toward the door where no one would be able to see me. I touched my hands to my hips, trembling fingers pushing the hem of my red dress up. Hooking my fingers at the waistband of my pink lace panties, I carefully slid them down, wiggling out of the material and feeling bolder by the moment. God, this wasn't like me… but then again, it felt so right.

  I held the panties in my hands, contemplating whether I was brave enough, then adjusted my dress back in place and walked back to the bed, lifting the pillow and placing the material under it. I left just a little bit of lace peeking out.

  But I wasn't done just yet.

  Bastian's presence had made me ache, and the tingling between my legs just wouldn't go away. Checking to
make sure the two men were still busy, I got on the bed in the guest bedroom and pulled up my dress. My fingers found their well-known groove, massaging the spot that needed attention the most. I had to put a hand over my mouth to stifle my moans, Bastian's name a faint whisper on my lips as I brought myself closer and closer to the edge of madness.

  It was only when I heard voices outside that I allowed myself the sweet pleasure of letting go. I came with a soft cry, fingers buried in the duvet and legs spread wide on the bed Bastian would sleep in that night. I was still shaking as I got up, smoothing down my dress and glancing at the panties peeking out from Bastian's pillow.

  I forced myself to walk away from them, my heart pounding as I bumped into Daddy in the hallway.

  "Thank you for making the house feel lovely," Daddy said with a heartfelt smile. "I'm so lucky to have you, honey. Your mom would be incredibly proud."

  "Thanks, Dad." I managed a weak smile.

  I retreated to my room where I slowly undressed, critically observing my body in the mirror.

  Just like my mom, I was a curvy girl too. But Mom had taught me to love myself, every curve of my body, no matter what anyone else said. And I'd followed her advice since I was a little girl. I just hoped Bastian wouldn't mind. Some guys had a very obvious preference.

  I got dressed for dinner, taking special care with my hair. I brushed it into a silky chocolate brown wave, adding gloss to my lips and some mascara to my long lashes. My thoughts were still spinning around one man and one man only. Bastian.

  He was so charming, so sweet. He'd brought me special presents when I was a little girl. He'd taken me out on weekends to see foreign movies and visit art galleries. And since Mom had gone, he'd taken special care to make me feel like I still had a family.

  Mom had always loved Bastian. And something told me she would have been on our side no matter what. If we were in love, Mom would want us to be together.

  I wasn't so sure if Daddy would think the same.

  "Holly, would you pass the gravy?"

 

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