by S. L. Scott
“Both.”
“Hmm.”
She slides closer and leans her head on my shoulder. “You smell different here too.”
We continue with our game of questions. “Is that good or bad?”
“You always smell good. You just smell different. You use different soap and cologne—”
“I didn’t really use cologne in Hawaii.”
“I know. Back on the island, you were all sweat and ocean and sex. Also, I might say this all wrong, and I don’t mean to offend you, but you’ve grown up a lot.” She smiles at me and adds, “And it’s not good or bad, it’s just who you are. I love all these new and old sides of you.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. I can tell she’s getting cold. “Let’s go. I want to take you shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“Just c’mon.”
I flag a cab and have him drop us off at the corner of Fifth and 56th Street. Taking her by the hand, I pull her reluctant body toward the door. She’s resisting the forward motion with every step.
“What is this place?” She asks nervously.
“Harry Winston.”
“It’s a jewelry store.” She isn’t asking.
But I decide to confirm it. “Yes. The best.”
“Like where the stars get their jewelry for the Oscars and stuff? That Harry Winston?”
“I don’t know about all that. I just know they’re the best.” I finally manage to get her inside the door, feeling her grip tighten in my hand. Facing her, a panicky tone comes out as I whisper, “I know we haven’t really talked about the proposal much since last night, but I was—”
“I still want to marry you, Evan. It’s just… I’m no good at this kind of stuff. I don’t know anything about rings or expensive things.”
“You know what you like and I want you to have a ring you like, or even better, love. It’s forever, remember?”
“Yes, forever.” She nods. “Okay, show me what you were thinking.” She angles behind me as if forcing me to be the brave one and go first.
A salesperson approaches, greeting us after thoroughly eyeing us both up and down twice. He leads us to a large, intricately carved wooden desk. We sit and after introductions and a quick discussion of what we’re here for, he asks, “Price range?”
“Um…” I hadn’t given much thought to it, but I’m willing to drop some cash on quality jewelry, especially on a ring that my girl’s gonna wear for the rest of her life.
“I don’t want to know,” she says, nudging me from the side.
The man pushes a pad of paper and pen across the desk and I scribble what I think is acceptable. Guess we’ll see what that gets us.
As he takes the paper, he smiles. “Very nice.” He glances at Mallory, who’s hiding her face against my shoulder. “Do you have a certain diamond cut in mind already?”
When she doesn’t answer, I do. “I think she would like a more classic cut.”
“Please excuse me. I’ll be right back,” he says, leaving us to seek out rings in the case on our own while we wait.
“I don’t feel comfortable doing this,” Mallory says.
“Listen, baby, I could’ve just surprised you, but I want you to have what you want—”
“I can’t be wearing a ring without telling our friends and family first.”
“So let’s tell them.”
“Are we ready for that? Are we ready for the scrutiny and the lectures about how young we are?”
“I’m not pushing marriage tomorrow or anything like that, but this means a lot to me and if I have to defend my actions, then I will. So yes, I’m ready for the lectures and the scrutiny. I say bring it on.”
She sighs then smiles. “I just feel wrong doing all of this behind my parents back, you know. My mom has always said it’s not official until you have a ring and a date. Silly, but I feel we need to be prepared when we drop this bombshell on them.”
“Look.” I turn my body toward her, our knees pressing against each other. “Spend Christmas with your family. Then—”
“I won’t see you?”
“I think you should be with your family and I with mine. I’ll come see you on the 29th. We can spend New Year’s together that way, but it will give me time to pack up my shit and get it moved to Colorado. And this may be our last Christmas being our parents’ children. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah.” She nods, understanding. “You’re right. I’ll still be in Denver on the 29th.”
“Good. I’d like to visit you there. I’ll hold the ring until after I ask for your father’s blessing.”
“What? You’re gonna ask—”
“It’s the right thing to do and I want to do right by you.”
She leans forward and kisses me softly, a gentle sigh slipping from her lips. “I have two requests,” she says, smiling.
“Shoot.”
“I’ll help narrow down the rings to two or three choices and then I want you to pick your favorite and surprise me.”
“Done. And the second?”
“I don’t want a diamond that’s ostentatious. I know how excited you get throwing your money around, but this is me, Evan. I don’t need the biggest ring in Manhattan. I just want something pretty, something that represents us. Keep that in mind, Daddy Warbucks.”
I don’t know what she’s talking about with this Daddy Warbucks business, but I get what she’s saying. “Okay, fine. I’ll keep it tasteful.”
“And by tasteful you mean tasteful by my definition not yours, right?”
Laughing, I say, “Right.”
We walk out just over an hour later, both of us satisfied. She doesn’t know the final ring choice though it’s a no brainer. I could see in her eyes and the huge smile which ring was her favorite. The sales guy also pulled me aside briefly to look at the diamonds I’d like to add to the ring since we were there. I think she’ll love it and though it’s not as small or nonexistent like she thinks she wants, it’s not outrageous either. I think she’ll be happy.
When we get back to my place, I ask her, “You have finals in a week. Did you want to study tonight? We can stay in if you prefer?”
“I don’t want to study. I should study, but I did some on the plane and I’ll do more on the flight back tomorrow. I don’t want to waste any of our time together.”
“In that case, you wanna go catch a flick?”
Her nose is scrunched up, amused. “Catch a flick? What is this 1955?”
“Stop making fun of me.”
“It’s fun though. I like seeing you get all worked up.”
“You want to see me worked up? I’ll show you worked up.”
I start tickling her causing her to fall onto the couch in a giggle fit. “Shit! Please! Stop!”
When I give her a momentary reprieve from the tickling torture, she says, “Is this one of those moments like in the movies where you tickle me and then suddenly we’re all heated and kissing?”
“Do you want it to be?” I hover over her, ready to attack, with tickles or kisses, depending on her answer.
“I’m hoping it is.”
I kiss her.
Her hands wind around my shoulders, encouraging me down on top of her. I toe-off my shoes and work hers off before pressing my mouth against hers. The taste of her drawing me in for seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths… fuck, I want all her kisses forever—each and every damn one of them.
I bolt upright and lift her into my arms as I stand to my full height and race to my room down the hall. I set her down on the bed and our mouths rejoin exactly where they left off. She stands and we both strip our own clothes off not wanting to waste a second on the tedious task.
Dropping my head down onto the pillow beneath her head, I enter her slowly, too slow, painfully cautious. I’m not sure why I’m so cautious either, but the moment seems to call for it.
Minutes of agonizingly slow lovemaking leaves us both teetering, verging on the edge of being dragged under a wave of spinning p
leasure. I move faster and my world comes zooming into focus as she throws her head back and “Evan” drips from her lips.
Heat. Soft. Wet. Heat. “Fuck, baby,” I moan.
A few thrusts later, I give into the tightening, seeing stars, blackness and Mallory all around me. She tremors below me, right there with me, sharing in depths of sexual inebriation.
As we lay there in the aftermath of our love, all feels right in my world.
“Evan, you awake?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“We fell asleep,” I whisper, then place a kiss on his chin.
“Mmmhmm.”
Lifting up, I look at the clock on his nightstand. 1:53 a.m. I roll onto my side and press against his back, spooning him. When I drape my arm over his waist, he takes my hand and holds it to his chest.
“Mallory, you awake?” I feel something bump into me.
“Uh uh.”
“We fell asleep.” He bumps me in the bottom again.
“Uh uh.”
I feel him rub small circles against my bottom with his hard-on as I peek at the clock. 4:17 a.m. “Go back to sleep, babe. I’m too tired.”
He whispers into my ear, “You sure?”
“Uh huh.”
“Okay.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too,” he croons softly into the back of my head.
“Pass the salt, please,” I ask, sitting in front of my breakfast platter ready to devour it.
Evan slides it across the gold-speckled, laminate table top.
“The Tabasco too,” I ask, smiling at him. “Please.”
“You got it.” The hot sauce comes sailing my way. “You’re happy,” he states.
With a mouth full of scrambled eggs, I smile, trying not to be gross. But I am happy and I can’t hide it. I chew quickly and swallow. “Yes. I am. This has been an amazing trip.”
“Yes, it has been.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Thanks for flying out. I know it’s bad timing with your finals. I didn’t want to pressure you, but I’m glad you came. This,” he says as his hand sways between us, “is different. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah, it’s calmer or we’re calmer now. Do you think the visit or the engagement did that?”
“Probably both,” he says, chuckling. “Everything feels settled, more at peace. It’s kind of weird.”
I laugh, knowing exactly what he means. “The war is over. It’s gonna take some getting used to, but it feels good.”
He eats his breakfast and I watch when he’s not looking. His strong jaw, his shorter hair that seems to work just as well as his longer locks did, and his muscles. Watching them alternate and work so fluidly, another thing I remember being so fascinated by the first time I ever rode with him in his Maserati.
“I’ll see you in three weeks?” he asks.
“Three weeks,” I repeat, nodding. The thought depresses me.
“We just did over three months. It’ll be okay. It’s only three weeks.”
“It’s too long.” I reach across the table, rubbing my fingertips over the top of his hand. “Definitely too long.”
“After this, never again, baby,” he says, sensing I need the reassurance.
“I like that sound of that.”
“I like the sound of forever.”
“Surferboy, you’re getting soft on me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m never soft on you, around you, near you.”
We both laugh, but I stop so I can hear his laughter without mine obscuring it.
“What?” he asks, smiling at me.
“Your laugh. I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long time.” I nod, grinning at how sentimental I’ve gotten. “Lately, everything seems to remind me of when we first met. I’m feeling nostalgic, I guess.”
“You remember my laugh from back then?”
“I can never forget it. I thought it was so genuine, unlike you at the time.”
“Hey,” he says with pouty lips. “Don’t pick on me.”
“Not picking, just sharing. There was such an honesty to your laugh that it sounded as if it was reserved for only the most special moments in life.” His cheeks tinge just barely, but I catch it. When he looks down with a small smile gracing his face, I ask, “Does that embarrass you?”
“Not embarrassed, just flattered that you would remember something like that. This weekend was a good reminder of all the things we’ve been missing since we’ve been apart.”
I walk around to his side of the booth and slide in next to him, bumping into him with my hip. Leaning my head on his shoulder, our fingers entwine on the table in front of us. “Yes, it has.”
He kisses me on the top of my head and tosses some bills on the table to cover the meal. “We need to get going.”
“Don’t make me go.” I pretend to resist, but he’s right. We do need to leave.
“We promised.”
“I know, but I just want more time with you.”
“Three weeks, baby.”
“Three weeks.”
“Hey, Evan?”
“Yes, Mallory?”
I tap him playfully on the shoulder. “Don’t mock me, mister.”
He looks over, laughing, and says, “Okay. What is it, oh love of my life, Soon-to-be-Wife?”
I roll my eyes and giggle. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“I’ve been called many things, I can’t say ridiculous has been one of them.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“Yep, there sure is.”
I start swinging our clasped hands between us, and ask, “This is all real, right? I didn’t dream up this whole weekend, did I? Ow!” My hand flies to rub my ass where he just pinched me.
“Nope.” A sly grin slides across his face. “See, you’re totally awake.”
“Ass.”
“I can make it all better,” he says, rubbing my ass with his hand.
“You’re in a silly mood.”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m getting married.”
“Awww, I love ya, babe.”
He kisses me on the nose then taps it. “I love you, too.”
We start walking again, but I stop him this time. “I’m nervous.”
Evan tilts his head in understanding, then pulls me closer. “Don’t be. I’m right here with you.”
Turning a corner, I see a park and ask, “Do we have time to go in?”
Checking his watch, he says, “A few minutes.”
After finding a dry spot in the grass, we sit, eventually lying down, staring up at the sky and cuddling.
While stroking my arm, he asks, “Do you trust her? Do you think my mother meant what she said?”
His body feels tense while waits for me to answer. I say, “I want to trust her. I think we should, but I’m nervous.”
“I told her how I felt about you last week.” I look up at him when he pauses, watching him close his eyes. “I want to believe she’s being sincere. Her organizing this trip, flying you out here, backs what she said about making amends, but I wanted your take on it.”
I laugh—it’s light, but an amusing thought that makes me giggle. “I don’t think we’re going to be besties or anything, but I do think she’s taken the first step to fixing her relationship with both of us.” I watch a white, puffy cloud float by that seems more fitting for a Hawaiian sky in June than a Manhattan skyline in December. “How do you think she’ll react to our engagement?”
He sits up on his elbows and looks down at me. “It’s happening, so it doesn’t matter what she thinks. Anyway, we have a little time. I still think your dad’s blessing needs to come first.”
“I’m cold,” I say, sitting up. “Let’s go. They’ll be expecting us soon and I need time to freshen up.”
“Evan! This must be your Mallory. So nice to meet you. I’m Helga, the Ashford’s House Keeper.”
I take her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, too.”
“Le
t me take you back. Your sister and friends are in the dining room already.” She leads us through the large apartment and I steal glances around the place trying to imagine Evan as a boy growing up in such a pristine and expensive looking home. Helga continues talking, “I don’t know what the kids did all weekend, but they said they were famished and keep asking when dinner is being served.”
Mine and Evan’s eyes connect and we laugh, knowing exactly why everyone is starving. When I blush, Evan smiles, and sends a wink my way.
“Miss Mallory Wray and Mr. Evan Ashford,” Helga announces to the gathered group in the large and very formal dining room. Holy shit! Did she just announce our arrival? I look at Evan shocked by the formality. He just rolls his eyes.
“Nice, baby bro. You actually made Helga announce you?” Kate says sarcastically. “That’s quite the ego you got there. Are you showing off for Mallory?”
“Calm the fuck down, Kate. I forgot she was going to do that. You’re such a hard ass these days.”
“Hey brah, she’s always had a hard ass,” Murphy adds with a proud smile and a nod.
“Gross! Not cool man,” Evan says, making gagging noises before he turns to Helga. “Sorry about that. I forgot about the ‘protocol’ of the house. You know you never have to announce me.”
“I know you don’t care, but your mother likes the tradition,” she replies with a shrug, winning me over completely.
Evan nods.
“C’mon over here, Evan.” Kate stands up and hugs him. “Since you’re going to be leaving soon, promise me we can hang out and I’ll promise no work talk.”
“We will. Don’t worry. And I’ll be here for Christmas now. Will you?”
“You are?” she replies surprised and steals a glance in my direction.
“I’ll explain later,” he says, “but yes. So if you’re here, we’ll have some down time then.”
They continue talking as I walk over to Sunny and we hug. “Hey,” she says, “you guys seem to have disappeared the whole weekend. I don’t blame you though. Guess the surprise worked?”
“More than you know.”
“Zach said he walked in on you two ‘reuniting.’” She giggles while doing air quotes.