“Hales, like I’ve mentioned before, as much as I hate the idea of you not being around, I guess it is the only feasible, ad-hoc solution given the very limited timeframe.” Tasha looks at me sternly for a short while; her lips mellow into a curve as she continues. “Anyhow, it’s not like we're exiling you to penal labor in Siberia. You’d be moving in with your hot, crazy for you boyfriend with whom you’ll be able to hook up twenty-four-seven in your little Seacliff love nest.”
I shake my head disapprovingly; to myself I admit that, for a temporary solution, this is way too appealing.
“Guys, can’t you see how soon this is? This has clusterfuck written all over it…” I fold my arms on my chest, adding visual reinforcement to the point I am trying to get across. “‘Soon’ being the key word here,” I murmur. They watch me, and before further discussion takes place, we are distracted by Ian’s chiming phone. His shoulders drop and his expression mutates to something between irritation and melancholy. We exchange puzzled looks and turn to observe him, concerned.
“Sir…” he answers.
To that Tasha and I mouth in union “his father.” I twist my mouth and she wrinkles her nose, aware that no good will come of this call. Ian listens, his cheeks flush, and he starts striding toward the corridor, utterly riled up.
“Do you think he asked him to move back in?” I ask Tasha with dread. All of a sudden the realization of the gravity of the trouble Ian is in registers.
“Hales, seriously, I hope for the sake of this boy’s beaten heart that he didn’t.”
Her face mimics mine. We are both extremely worried for him now, all shreds of cynicism evaporated.
“I'm going after him,” I tell her quietly and she nods in encouragement. My poor Ian; he doesn’t show it, but he is much more fragile than he lets himself appear to be, especially when his family is concerned. I follow him to my room where he sits with the door wide open.
Friendly banter aside, he deserves an honest, reasonable explanation for my rejection of the idea; he needs to understand the reasons behind my stubbornness with the issue, and that I am not just being a major bitch.
“You of all people don’t get to talk to me about proper conduct, family and values, Dad.”
I cringe at the disdain in his voice as he sneers the word 'dad'. “When was the last time you honored your wedding vows, huh?” he growls, and then listens, perched at the edge of my bed. When he spots me he gestures for me to come in, his gaze fuming. He's already seen me. I am at a point of no return, so I just get in and sit at the end of the bed with my heart going out to him. I know too well the long and ugly history of Ian and his father since the day Ian came out of the closet, which was at a relatively mature age. I shudder inside. He threw away his comfortable life, knowingly giving up an obscene trust fund, to stand for what he believed in. That day, I was awe struck and as proud as I had ever been of anyone.
“I don’t want to be lied to. I want to be loved for who I am, not just for appearances.” He exhales in frustration. I observe his handsome features recoil, turning agonized and betrayed.
“You know, if you'd just looked past your prejudices you might see that what’s inside of me is not as awful as you think.” Ian heaves out a loud breath. “It's time you set bias and ignorance aside and see your one and only child for who he really is, and not the shameful sinner you made him out to be. You might even tolerate what you find.”
Tears prick at the back of my eyes hearing his words, that are coated with such a painfully dejected tone. I swallow hard over the lump forming in my throat. I should be strong for him, if not his family. We will be his rock.
How can this man deny and hurt his own child, especially a beautiful child like Ian? Absurd as it is, I think Ian’s father is one of the only people I know who doesn’t find Ian special. Ian is the kindest, most admirable human being I’ve met in my entire life. I just feel like grabbing the phone from his hand and giving that father of his an elaborate, uncensored piece of my mind.
I keep staring at Ian’s clouded expression as he continues to listen, his body rigid, guarded. Somewhat drained, he replies, “Then, as always, I can rest assured that you’ll never fail to disappoint me. I can't even rely on my own parents.”
Deep recognition exhale of a defeated acceptance of a broken child concludes the call. And I know, sure as I’ve never been before, that I will shortly pack my bags and let Ian take my place in the apartment. Throwing the phone on the bed, he turns to look at me with a blend of coyness, fragility and despair. His eyes are a set of perfect emerald—so beautiful, just like the soul they mirror.
My personal shaman needs healing.
“Gorgeous.” You really are. I want to scream from the top of my lungs, if possible at his father’s blocked ears.
He rewards me with an exhausted smile, then rubs his hands over his face.
I wait for him to look back at me, then say, “I’m going to pack now, and you'll stay here as long as you need.”
“Hales, you don’t have to do that on account of the delight you’ve just heard.”
“I don’t have to, I know.” I hold his stare, trying to convey my determination. “I want to.” I emphasize every word. “Besides, how can I really resist twenty-four hour access to my amazing boyfriend?” I try to lighten his mood; I don’t want to make him feel worse than he already does. His lips quirk just enough to form a thin shadow of a smile.
“Hey, we both know you would do the same for me.” I nudge his shoulder and beam at him.
He looks at me sincerely and says, “I would give up my room for you for hooking up twenty four seven with Daniel without even batting an eye.” His naughtiness finally reappears.
“Now, that’s something I do not share,” I scold him, feigning a frown.
“So, Maldives,” I add, knowing it’ll raise his spirits even more. His full megawatt grin comes back.
“You betcha.” He slams a kiss on my mouth and hugs me tightly.
After the momentary cheerfulness, as though remembering his conversation from a few minutes ago, solemnness veils his face and he wraps his arm around my shoulder.
Resting the side of his head against mine he says, “You know Hales, we go from childhood to maturity being preached at about how family is the most important thing in life. But I say screw that, it depends on which family. For me it's sure not the family I was born into...it’s us. You, me, and Tasha.” I look at him with a thin, warm smile. “Sometimes you guys are just too much, so much that I end up almost strangling you, and then there are times when you just rock my world, and I can’t even begin to say how much I love you. And no matter what, I know I can rely on you guys and that you'll love me, no questions asked, any fucking time.” My answer of assurance and agreement is a kiss on his cheek and a tight hug that shows love, protectiveness and empathy.
“Temporary,” I declare in the most intimidating voice I can muster as we get back to the living room and deliver the news to Tasha. They both smirk at me and Ian turns to hug me, saying, “You know what they say, temporary is the new permanent.”
“Hilarious,” I reply, although more cheerfully than I intended for it to come out. After checking the time we all go to my room and begin packing two large suitcases with Placebo singing in the background.
“Hey, this song is totally about me,” says Ian.
Tasha and I both tilt our head to look his way.
“Special needs, you know…” He grins.
Our eye roll comes in unison. Tasha throws a pillow at him and we resume the task at hand.
I text Ian after I get in the car before I start driving to Daniel's.
I promise I will always love u, even when you forget to love yourself
Ian: I know. LUV U immensely
I hardly manage to take another breath before a new message comes in.
Ian: Now, let’s quit this sentimental shit, nuff for one day, or a decade ;)
I shake my head and giggle. As I fumble with the iPod a thought a
bout the suitcases in the trunk crosses my mind and a twist forms in my stomach. Buds of doubt start tainting my thoughts. I hope this doesn't turn out to be a major mistake…
Chapter 9: Three Wishes
“I'm here.” I drop the suitcases in my hands onto the sandstone threshold; Daniel studies me with his head cocked as he leans on the doorjamb, sporting casual jeans and a T-shirt as ever steamy. “You are left with two more wishes.” I beam and his expression evolves from absorbed to delight, realizing the meaning of the suitcases I’ve brought with me. His crooked smile is effervescent.
“Oh baby, you're my three wishes combined.” He grabs me and lifts me into the deepest hug, repeatedly planting kisses on my broad smile, and I giggle.
“It's just a temporary solution,” I declare before briefly filling him in about Ian. I explain how Ian divorced his morals long ago, and that finally the promiscuousness he got custody for came back with vengeance.
Daniel shrugs and shakes his head at the tale. He bends to pick up the suitcases, entirely smug, looking at me over his shoulder. He raises an eyebrow while a naughty smile plays on his lips, strands of hair falling to almost cover his eye. “You know what they say: temporary is the new permanent.”
I roll my eyes. What is it about my men? Have they all been designed from the same blueprint?
He approaches me with the suitcases still in hand, and enthusiastically plants kisses on my mouth, so eagerly that his tongue almost reaches my throat. I slide my hands to his back packets and gladly absorb his assault.
“Temporary,” I repeat, following him back to the kitchen after he had set my suitcases in the bedroom.
“You know, baby, denial really agrees with you. Go ahead and keep on wearing it if it works for you.” He smiles, an annoying, conceited, sexy grin.
I take a deep breath and wrinkle my nose.
“Ready to have dinner? We should celebrate.”
“Sure. What are we celebrating?” Disregarding my question, he scans me head to toe and then grabs a black sweatshirt that rests on one of the kitchen stools.
“Hands up,” he commands in a wry, magesterial tone. As I obey he shrugs his oversized shirt over my pale pink chiffon blouse. I need to roll up the sleeves for my hands to show. “So you won't be cold.” He answers an unspoken question. My lips arch warmly at the gesture. With a thin, secretive, askew smile he takes my hand and leads me to the patio.
I follow, fairly agitated by curiosity laced with anxiety.
And before I can actually ask, the display spread before me makes my breath catch. He really went all out this time. What in the name of god are we really celebrating?
Cream colored gothic candles adorned with asymmetric stalactites of wax are scattered around the deck and pool. There is a table set for two covered with a crisp white cloth sporting a massive bronze candelabra as the centerpiece. Flames flicker softly from the candelabra, which is surrounded by an assortment of sushi. Snow Patrol singing one of their most intense, soul melting songs gives the scene its final touch. Daniel leads us, and I study his unreadable face from the side, following him with a thudding heart. He pulls back a chair for me. There is a certain flicker in his eyes that tells me he might be a bit nervous.
By now I'm actually starting to panic, my mind railing at the thought of what he might have in mind, at the reason we're about to “celebrate”.
“Hold on,” he says in a low voice before I sit down. I gaze up at him feeling a flush of apprehension hovering over my cheeks. His eyes slowly caress my face til they rest heatedly on my lips.
I am a second away from losing it.
And then he kisses me.
It's mind-blowing: without inhibition, possessing my soul with the connection, leaving me physically unbalanced and lapsing mentally. Noticing my brief loss of balance, he holds me for a few moments next to his chest, til he senses I am capable of holding my own.
Wow, this kiss. This one kiss should be safely guarded in a locked chest so it can remind me of what lust is when I’m old enough to forget. I am utterly breathtaken.
“We nailed it, baby. The deal is mine. This is totally the big leagues now. All that’s left is to sign the official papers.” His eyes brighten with excitement.
“Wow, Daniel, that’s amazing.” I squeeze him tight and grin wholeheartedly.
“This opens up new possibilities. It paves the way for entering and developing more markets and potential business with similar governments.”
“I can’t believe you waited until now to tell me.” I push his chest gently. His reply is a smile. “Now, that’s a cause for celebration,” I say with the most casual voice I can, trying hard to hide my relief. Still, I'm utterly thrilled for him.
“There’s more to celebrate.” He winks at me.
“Oh?” The dread is back … and in reply to my poorly-articulated response he hands me a navy, rectangular, velvety box.
Psycho, no! At this point my breath is far from being stable while my heart plays catch up.
“Don’t freak out on me Hales, okay?” he says, noticing my hesitant palm when I reach for the box. There’s an iota of humor in his stare which I can’t translate.
Knowing you and your impulsive ways there’s nothing I could do to keep from freaking out. Is he serious? Is this what I think it is? Tasha’s words ricochet around my brain, fueling my concern, frightening the hell out of me. I can’t manage to open the damn thing: my mind spaces out and doesn’t seem to be able to transfer the required action to my numb limbs.
He sets the box on the table.
“Hales,” he frames my cheeks and tips my head so my widely open, terrified eyes align with his. “You are just way too sweet.” He presses a soft, chaste kiss on my mouth, his eyes dancing with secretive, impish light.
“It’s not what you think. You're not ready for that yet. Relax, baby.” He winks at me again and his lips curve up in an adorable smile. He's laughing at me!
I blink at him and swallow hard. The only sound my mouth can form right now is, “Huh?” He shakes his head and his smile widens. I observe him for a fraction of a second, then turn to open the box. I gape at the box's contents, then up at Daniel’s anxiously waiting eyes, then back at the velvety case in my now slightly more stable hands. Inside, on a silky navy cloth, lies cradled a diamond tennis bracelet, with an engraved heart toggle at its middle. I need to force myself to pull my dropped jaw back into its natural place as I study the delicate, exquisite jewelry.
“Look at the engraving,” Daniel coaxes in his throaty, warm voice, his eyes a tender hazel of thrill on me.
I turn the heart over to read the inscription, and the little carved letters constrict my own heart with new levels of adoration.
For being you.
It’s a moment that reminds me how deeply, so-fallen-can’t-get-up in love with him I am. I gape, overwhelmed, at the bracelet for a long moment as Daniel watches me with the most satisfied, proud side pull of his lips. And the deepest, bone-shivering emotions sweep through my body.
I love you D. Can't breathe, can’t exist without you, love.
“I love you.” I lean forward to kiss him, a kiss that tells him how I feel, powered by the emotions that now spiral within me, which he enthusiastically reciprocates. When we detach for the sake of oxygen, I move over and straddle his welcoming thighs. As Daniel secures the bracelet on my wrist, but not before he plants a soft kiss on the middle of my gratified palm, we continue where our mouths left off just a minute ago. We kiss, consumed in the trance of our connection, til the need to rip each other’s clothes off is on the verge of irrationality. We don’t even make it to the house; we fall to the closest lounger in this scene he created for…me.
When I am snuggled deep in his embrace, in his vast bed and under the soft covers, he whispers into my ear. “You know, Hales...” he says, brushing my cheekbone with his warm hand. His shining eyes in the darkened room transmit his emotions. “...it's been a while since I hit puberty.”
I can’t
resist and counter with, “Has it? Your hormone-stricken libido tells me otherwise.” I blink at him and he snickers.
He kisses me with a feathery kiss. “I'm not playing Hales. I am all in, baby.” He tips my chin up so our eyes are level. “Like I said before, I found the one.” To my prolonged silence full of frantic thoughts he says, “What is it?”
I take a deep breath, trying to make some order out of the chaos that is my thoughts. Should I just go ahead and say what’s on my mind, especially after what he just made for me, gave me?
He watches me with a profound look that only makes the ability to say what I want almost impossible.
“Hales?”
“Nothing, I’m just a bit overwhelmed.” I choose, like the coward that I am, not to tell him how insecure I feel about us.
“Now that we've gotten this out of the way, can we get down to the nitty-gritty?”
“And by nitty-gritty you mean...?”He slides his hand under my tank top.
Again? Hormone-stricken libido indeed. But hey, who am I to complain?
Chapter 10: Under the Weather
I wake alone due to Daniel’s early start, something about a meeting out of town. Still drowsy and shaking off sleep, I wait for the noisy coffee machine to do its sacred job and call Ian. Knowing full well that the fallout from his father’s heart of stone takes more than a good night's sleep to wear thin, if at all.
“Wha...” A short, annoyed mumble echoes from the other end of the line.
“Mornin’ sunshine, you sound terrific...”
“Whatevs, Hales. I’m allowed to be moody. My chakras are in complete chaos, so don’t even start with that shit,” he grumbles huskily, then sighs, sounding deflated and sleepy. Shorter than the space of a breath he adds, “Sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you, but it’s just...he really gets to me.”
“I know, dear. And it’s me, so there's no need to apologize,” I say warmly, then add, “Do you want to call in sick and have a spa day? My treat.” I’ll do whatever it takes to make him feel good.
Inner Core: (Stark, #2) Page 7