Naked.
No one has ever held me before … just because, or just for just.
I swallow hard at the lump in my throat. The more I swallow, the more it bounces back, welling over into my eyes.
Aw, bugger, I’m gonna be leaking like a hormonal teenager. Now is not the time to cry just because he’s holding me. It seems I don’t need alcohol to be a disaster, it comes naturally. I can’t be with a guy without getting all emotional.
I sniff and duck my head lower. To my embarrassment, he moves back. Taking hold of my chin, he nudges my face up. I’m going to be looking like a panda again.
“You okay?” he asks gently. Of course he’ll ask gently. He’s Mr. Bloody Perfect slash Greek God.
“Why are you so nice?” I sniffle even more, and wipe frustrated at my cheeks.
“You’re crying because I’m nice?” he asks confused.
“No … yes. Both. You’re holding me. You’ve been so … nice since we’ve met. People aren’t supposed to be nice.” I think I’ve just managed to confuse him even more.
He wipes my cheeks with his palms, making me melt some more.
“See … nice. You don’t even run from a blotching woman.” I try to bring my point across again.
He smiles. “So you have emotions. You think I’m nice, not exactly what I was aiming for. Was going more for great, but I’ll work on that.”
“You’re great,” I say to appease him. “Just bloody great. Tell me an awful secret. Tell me you go cow tipping at night, throw eggs at houses, anything will do right now.”
He chuckles and brushes his hand softly over my hair.
“Do you do those things?” he asks, his voice slightly hoarse.
“No … I’m just reaching for something here. It’s better than asking if you’re involved in something drug-related, murder-related, or just plain crime-related.”
His eyes roam my face, and then he presses his mouth to my forehead. (Some more melting.)
“I’ve never been on the wrong side of the law, never gone cow tipping. I have thrown eggs at a house once, when I was twelve. I couldn’t sit for a week when my mom found out,” he admits.
“Bad boy Aiden throws eggs. I feel so much better.”
He chuckles, and his breath warms my skin as he lays his head down next to mine.
“Where are you from, Emma?” he asks.
I’m lying naked in bed with a stranger; still I’ve never felt more at peace.
“From all over the place. I was born in Africa, but we moved to Pendoylan when I was thirteen. It’s a little village in Wales.” I don’t think giving him a bit of information can do much harm. He’s a student like me.
“So that’s why your accent is a little different, because you’re from Africa,” he states.
“Where are you from?” I ask one back, before he can ask more questions.
“South Carolina.” He nudges at my neck and I close my eyes. This is a real nice way of getting to know someone. “I’m a Southern boy, ma’am,” he drawls, and I become a puddle of drool right about then and there.
“Why did you choose Chapel Hill?” he asks.
I don’t think and answer a bit too honestly, “The eagles. They have eagles here.”
He lifts his head and looks at me. No, it’s more like he pins me down. “Why not come for a simple vacation then?”
“A student visa is longer.” This is where I should start keeping quiet, really I should.
“You came here to see eagles?”
Once he asks the question, I realize how stupid it must sound to him. How totally nutters. “Among other things.” I try to cover my mistake.
I start to pull back, feeling more naked than just because I’m not wearing clothes, but he’s not letting go. I dig the heels of my palms into his chest, and instead of pushing I hold them there when he rolls me back, giving me a full view of the eagle imprinted on his skin.
His arms cage my face and he leans in, warming my body with his muscled one.
“You’d be surprised how understandin’ I can be,” he whispers against the corner of my mouth.
Oh, I think I know. What man says no three times?
“There comes a time in everyone’s life when you just need some space from the old family. I’m taking some time to figure out what I want from my life,” I admit as best I can. For some reason I don’t want to lie to him. It’s as if I know he’ll know, and I just don’t want to go there.
He tilts his head and stares at me, looking too deep. It’s as if he’s studying my soul, and then his warmth leaves me.
~*~
A pharmacy. That one was hard. How do you explain to the guy that you need feminine products? Just so not on.
I glance at him as he parks the car outside a mall. This is going to be some shopping experience. How am I going to buy the things I need without him seeing it?
This is one of those seriously gawky-arsed moments. As we walk into the mall awkward flees and shitty takes its place.
“Aiden,” the girl, if I remember correctly, Katia is her name, squeals. “Emma,” she squeals some more.
I form my lips into some sort of a smile. When Aiden’s arm slips over my shoulders and he draws me into him, the smile stretches widely. Daft, I know.
“Hey, bud.” Colton says, taking hold of Aiden around his neck, and playfully jabbing him in the shoulder.
“Hey, guys.”
Bulldogs. They are built like bulldogs, and only need to bare their teeth and I’ll be running in the opposite direction. I’m sure they spend the better part of their day at the gym. I feel minuscule standing between the three of them. At the pub it was different. Alcohol makes you brave. Now I’m just gulping and breathing.
Katia is easily a head taller than me, and I’m still sticking with what I said, if I had a body like hers, legs like those, I’d be walking on my hands to show them off.
The woman must be psychic, because at the exact moment I’m thinking about her, she reaches a manicured hand to my face. And, just like with my mum, I struggle to keep still. I try really hard for about three seconds before I give in, and, like the night before, I duck into Aiden to avoid her touch. Taking hold of his shirt, I feel his muscles tighten under my fist, but I can’t let go.
What have I done? Have I embarrassed him in front of his mates? I freeze and can’t bring myself to look at their reactions. I don’t even know what they are talking about.
His hand slips from my shoulder to my neck, and up into my hair. He presses me into his chest, and I breathe in his spicy scent. There’s something amazing about his touch that puts me right at ease, and I relax my hold on his shirt.
“Bring your girl,” is the first I hear from Katia. “It will be great to get to know her.”
“Will do,” Aiden says.
I start to pull away. I don’t want to go anywhere she will be. How can he just assume that? Annoyance bubbles up. I’ve been told for a very long time what to do. I didn’t come here to have someone decide my comings and goings for me.
I can’t even bring myself to smile as they walk away. I’m upset for various reasons. One, making a total arse of myself and leeching onto him. Two, him assuming I’ll go to any place she’ll be. And three, because I like him too much, so soon.
It’s just not right. All of this is just not right. I should pack up and go.
“Pharmacy,” he says, as if nothing just happened.
I’m too brassed off to care, and grab what I need in front of him. I shop fast. Not because of what happened, but because that’s how I always do it. It’s never been one of my favorite things to do, and again, my mother has a lot to do with that. It’s not nice, shopping with a person who chooses everything for you.
Half way through the grocer, Aiden steps in front of me. Standing in the middle of an aisle, he takes hold of my shoulders. I glance up, waiting.
“Out with it,” he says.
I’m not having the conversation about his mates in the middle of a shop.
“Out with what?”
“I have never in my life met a woman who goes through a store as fast as you do. You barely register what’s on the shelves,” he says, and then he leans down, “so out with it.”
“I just don’t like shopping.” At least I can answer this one honestly.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, fancy that, a girl that doesn’t like shopping. Let’s get this over with, shall we.” I step past him before he can ask another question.
~*~
Back at the flat, I still feel a bit tense. I try to avoid any eye contact, because I’m a fast learner. Aiden is good at reading my eyes.
I manage to hide in my room for three miserable hours. In those hours, I don’t dream my American dream. I drive myself bonkers thinking about a documentary I once watched on possums. Some possums eat for like eight or ten months, and then they shag themselves to death. Some sex frenzy. I feel like those possums right now. I want to go on a binging spree and stuff my face with ice cream and chocolate, otherwise I’m going to end up throwing myself at Aiden, again. And I don’t want to end up belly-up like the possums. Oh bloody hell, I’m not even making sense to myself any more.
I’m just so frustrated. I want to be out there with him right now, and not in here all alone. I’m just tired of being alone … and a virgin. I decide to write Chloe a quick email, it might make me feel better.
Chloe,
It’s safe to say I officially suck at losing my virginity. I failed a third time. I must be the only girl who can’t lose her virginity on two different continents. I should maybe do a trip around the world.
You wanted details. Aiden, my flatmate, is a Greek God. He’s bloody perfect. His whole right side and arm are covered in ink. I could sit and stare at him the whole day.
I want to touch him. I like touching him. I love it when he touches me. I’ve never felt something like that before. I don’t feel sick. For some reason he makes me feel safe, and I know it’s completely nutters of me. I only met him yesterday.
Tell me what to do.
I wish you were here.
Sunshine ;)
There are three soft raps on my door. I quickly press send, and almost fall off the bed to go and open it.
“Er…yes?” I clear my throat so I can resemble some form of composure (and not the rampant mess I am on the inside).
He’s dressed casually. Slacks and a sweater, with some emblem on. The bloke really looks good in anything, but best in nothing. My neck and cheeks warm at the direction in which my thoughts are heading.
“I just wanted to know if you have plans for tonight?” So he’s not assuming I’ll go with. Suddenly I feel rotten. “I have this thing I have to go to, and you’re welcome to come along, get out.”
He’s not making it sound like a date either.
So, Katia or here, alone. Aiden or here, alone.
“Sure, what should I wear?” I hear myself asking. Huh? I haven’t even had a discussion with myself.
“Dress comfortable,” he says, and slips out, closing the door.
Dress comfortable? He’s wearing slacks and a sweater. Do I wear the same?
I go the safe route, jeans and t-shirt. It’s warm out. I’m not wearing my jacket. It’s made for Britain’s rainy days, not America’s warm days.
Armed with mascara, blush and plum color-stay lipstick, I’m ready in ten minutes. I don’t know how to take long. My mother would have my head if I dare took long.
“This okay?” I double check with Aiden. Suddenly it doesn’t feel so okay. It’s a black t-shirt, with a low v-neck.
His eyes drift slowly over me and I feel the nervous twist in my stomach. “Great, let’s go.” He takes hold of my hand as we walk to the door, and a warm feeling settles in my stomach. My first proper night out with my flatmate. I can do this. I can be normal.
We stop at a house that reminds me too much of my own, back at home. Big brick face, money-smothered, green lawn all year round, that type of house. There are already cars parked in the drive, but Aiden parks in the street, and I’m guessing it’s so he won’t get parked in.
If it’s a party, we are seriously underdressed. Panic starts to beat out its rhythm in my chest. A party means people, and people means touching and socializing. I don’t know if I can do that. I’ve never been to a party before.
I glance at Aiden, hoping I’m wrong. “What’s happening here tonight?”
“Now, I need you to be open-minded,” he starts, and I turn in the seat to look at him. “Have you ever watched any kind of fight sport before?”
“Not really,” I answer carefully, very unsure of where he’s going with this. “My brother tried karate once.” I’m not sure that qualifies. He was eleven. It didn’t last long.
Aiden reaches to me and rests his hand on my shoulder. I’m very aware of the two fingers touching the bare strip of skin leading to the curve of my neck. I’m having flashbacks of where that hand was earlier, and it eases some of the panic away. You’d think his hands were magical.
“Once every two weeks, we meet here for what we call the Ultimate Fighting Championships. We compete until there’s one. That one goes against the other guys from North Carolina who won in their individual groups; this happens once every four months.” He stops, and does that thing where he pins me with his eyes.
He’s waiting for me to freak out. A part of me actually considers it for a fraction of a moment.
“So you fight?”
“Yes,” he says. I nod, but it’s all he says.
“Why?”
“Some do it for money, others for the title, or the rush.” His eyes drift over my head toward the house, and I can see he’s thinking, maybe even worried.
“Why do you do it?” That’s all I want to know. I don’t care about the others.
He doesn’t answer me immediately. Then his eyes come back to me, and he looks deep, that soul-searching look he has, and I’m just about to get lost when he says, “Every bird of prey looks over its shoulder before it goes in for the kill, even a hawk. Even they know to watch their backs – every single one but an eagle. It’s fearless.” I sit frozen. The fact that he knows that leaves me stunned. “I fight so others don’t have to.”
When his hand slips up to my neck, my heartbeat speeds up. I’m not sure who Aiden is, but from what I’ve seen he’s bloody perfect. He might as well have stepped out of my dreams, and that’s dangerous – it’s a real danger to my heart. But the warning gets lost as he starts to pull me in.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!
I’m willing him to kiss me, but instead he draws me against his chest and hugs me. I feel rather deflated.
“You’ll be safe in there. Just stay close,” he says, hot in my ear, wreaking havoc with my hormones, “and don’t drink anything that doesn’t come from me.”
I smile sheepishly. There won’t be any risk of that happening.
~*~
Just like I thought, it’s obvious that whoever lives here has money. What I get to see of the house is glamorous. Once we step out the back the atmosphere shifts, it’s charged with excitement. The same blokes from the pub are all standing around, muscles bulging and gleaming under a spotlighted area.
There’s a cordoned-off circle with chairs neatly placed around it. That’s most probably where it will happen, the fighting.
And the few women that are here are … well, let’s just say I feel very underdressed. Tight dresses just covering their arses, and boosting their assets all round, make me look duller than yesterday. Dress casual, he said.
One comes sauntering closer, and I admire her balancing skills. I’d never be able to walk in heels like that.
“Aiden, are you ready for tonight?” Her tone is low, like husky low.
I try to wiggle free my hand, that has somehow ended up in his again, but he tightens his grasp.
“I’m always ready. Where’s Katia? I don’t see her.”
I can’t believe it. He’s not giving Ultimate Barbie
the time of day, and she doesn’t look impressed.
“She’ll be out now. Why don’t you go get geared up.”
Only when she turns away does he let go of my hand. I follow him toward the blokes he was with last night. It’s good I’m walking behind him, for various reasons. He reaches behind him with one hand, and in one swift movement he slips the sweater off. My eyes glue themselves to his muscled back. I’m eye-stalking again, every flexing muscle. His back mesmerizes me until I smack into him, rather hard.
“Bugger,” I mumble, utterly embarrassed for being so obvious about salivating over him. You’d swear we weren’t naked together just a few hours ago.
You’d swear I was still a virgin surrounded by Greek gods and goddesses.
OH. What do you know, I am!
“You okay?” he asks in a hushed tone, making his voice sound so much sexier.
His arm slips around my shoulders. Just like all the drooling, hormonal, knicker-dropping girls out there, I breathe him in as he presses me against his chest. I don’t suppress the urge and take the dive, pressing my cheek to his smooth skin, right over the eagle, and I keep inhaling his spicy scent for a few more precious seconds.
“Splendid.” I can only manage one word without making a total arse of myself. I’m ready to drop my own knickers; he just needs to give the command.
“Will you hold this for me?” His sweater appears in front of me and I take hold of it. I stand, once again totally transfixed, as he slips out of his slacks.
Oh. Bloody. Hell. God save the Queen and my raging hormones. I don’t think I’m going to survive the evening.
He has now stripped down to only shorts, black ones with words written in gray on the side. CAPOEIRA. I wonder what it means?
“I want you sitting close by. We’re going to warm up before the others come. Can I get you something to drink first?” he asks, as if everything is fine and I’m not melting into a puddle of raving hormones at his feet. Hormones that are swaying to one tune, the American National Anthem.
I just shake my head and take the seat he points out. I fold his clothes neatly, but like a sixteen-year old, I keep them on my lap. Oh yeah, I’m in trouble. I might have a crush on my flatmate. This is not one of the experiences I was counting on having.
Wake Me Up (Love Knows No Boundaries) Page 6