Auctioned to Him 3: Back to the Yacht

by Charlotte Byrd

  Blackness descends again. Sometime later, I wake up again. My eyelids feel heavy. Finn is there again. He’s looking at something on his phone. I want to call out to him, but my mouth is too difficult to open. He sees me. At least, I think he does. Then, I realize that I can move my finger. I press it as hard as I can into his hand. The most beautiful smile forms on his face. His eyes fill with hope, and I know that it’s going to be okay.

  Over the next few weeks, my recovery is slow, boring and cumbersome. My parents come see me. Lila tells me that they flew out the night of the accident and have been here ever since. They come visit me for hours each day, along with Lila. They both seem to like Finn a lot. They talk to him all the time, and he continues to stay with me. It feels like he’s never not here. To pass the time, he reads to me and we watch Netflix together. I fall in love with the quietness of his voice and the roar of his laughter. He laughs with his whole body. Unapologetically. I remember when I used to laugh like that. But nowadays, my laughter is limited by all the tubes, bandages and fear of pain. Then the bandages come off. I’m terrified of the person I’d see underneath. Horrified of not having my old face again. In the past, I remember freaking out about every stupid pimple or imperfection. But now, I want to have my old face back more than anything. When I look in the mirror the first time, I see her looking back at me. I’m a little disheveled and rough around the edges, but overall, I’m me. When I turn to Finn, the look on his face tells me what he’s thinking.

  He thinks I’m beautiful. Finn Dalton thinks I’m beautiful!

  “Wow,” Finn says coming into the room. The nurses have helped me change into the loose fitting, black dress that Lila bought for me. I had an hour or so to get my hair and makeup in order. I’m getting discharged tomorrow and, to celebrate the occasion, he is taking me out on a date. Not far, just to the roof. But it’s still a date!

  “You look…breathtaking,” he says. I smile as my heart fills with joy.

  “Thank you. You too,” I mumble. That’s quite an understatement. Finn is dressed in a tailored grey suit without a tie. The white button-down shirt is perfectly starched, bringing out the olive color in his skin and the brightness of his eyes. His hair falls loosely into his eyes, but in that perfect casual way which makes girls swoon.

  “Are you ready?” Finn asks. I nod and he wheels me away. We take the service elevator to the top.

  “Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?”

  “No,” he says, nonchalantly. “But I got everything ready.”

  When the elevator doors open, I see a little set up at the edge of the roof. String lights wrap around the railing creating a cozy atmosphere around the little table and one chair.

  “One chair?” I ask.

  He points to my wheelchair.

  “Oh, of course!”

  He laughs and pushes me forward.

  “What are we having?” I ask.

  “Something very gourmet. California pizza kitchen.”

  That sounds perfect! I love their pizza, and I haven’t had it in ages. When we finally get to the table, I see that the food may not be gourmet, but the setting definitely is. The table is covered in thick, white linen and set with expensive plates and cutlery. There’s even a daffodil and daisy centerpiece.

  “Lila told me that these were your favorite flowers,” Finn says.

  “They are,” I say.

  When he opens the covered silver platter, I see a variety of pizza slices placed carefully in a round pizza.

  “I wasn’t sure which ones you preferred, so I got a little bit of both.”

  “I’ll start with a slice of pesto,” I say.

  “Pesto, it is.” Finn takes a slice of Hawaiian pizza for himself.

  After pouring us some wine, he sits down across from me and looks at me.

  “I’d like to make a toast,” I say.

  He nods.

  “I’m not much of a toast maker, but I just feel like I have to say something to you. You have done so much for me over these last few weeks, and I will never be able to repay you. You have been there for me, even though…before this accident, I was horrible to you.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “Yes, I was. Don’t interrupt.” He flashes a coy smile and waits. “And so, I just want to take this opportunity to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for everything that you’ve done. From paying for all of my medical bills to just being there with me. Day in and day out. Without you, living in that hospital for so long wouldn’t have been that fun.”

  “Thank you,” Finn says after I’m done. “And I would like to say something too. I’m so happy that you have made such a swift recovery. It has been a pleasure spending all this time with you. And I hope that we can continue to spend time together in the future.”

  The rest of the dinner isn’t so serious. We joke, we laugh. We talk about stupid old movies and shows. He tells me that the first time he wanted to be an actor was when he saw the Brady Bunch on television. Mr. Brady made him feel like families on television were better than families in real life, and he wanted to go off and find himself a television family. I tell him that the first clothes I ever made were for my childhood cat. I used to torture her by running around and try to measure her to make the sweater just right. It was soon after that I realized that it was easier to get people’s measurements and made Lila a t-shirt.

  After stuffing ourselves silly with pizza and wine, we take a break from eating. He wheels me out to the opposite side of the roof and runs back for his chair. He sits down next to me, takes my hand in his, and we look out over the lights of Los Angeles in front of us. The world is buzzing with activity, but we’re all above all that. Up here, there’s nothing but peace and quiet. Not even a single insect dares to interrupt our silence.

  “I love you, Chloe,” Finn suddenly says, completely out of the blue. I turn to face him. He isn’t even looking at me. He’s looking somewhere far off in the distance.

  For a second, I think that I had misheard him.

  “What?”

  “I love you,” he repeats himself in the exact same tone. He turns to me. “I’ve never said that to anyone before. Not to anyone but my mom.”

  “You love me?” I ask skeptically. “But how…do you know?”

  “I used to ask that same question. And now I know. I know because I love you. Because of a million different reasons. But mainly because I want to spend all of my time with you. In all of these weeks, even when you could barely speak, and now that you’re almost back to normal, I’ve always wanted to spend time with you. I looked forward to seeing you, no matter how much time has passed. Even if I had just gone out for a snack to the vending machine. I love you, Chloe. And I just wanted you to know that.”

  I stare at him. At his intense eyes. His beautiful lips. I don’t know what to say. I should say what I feel. That I love him too, and that I’ve loved him since our first date. Since that moment when I thought that someone had stood me up and had rescued me. But for some reason I choke up. Tears start to gather.

  “Oh my God, are you okay?” he asks, taking my face into his hands and wiping my tears with his strong thumbs. I nod.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize for crying more than anything else.

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. That was too much for you. I shouldn’t have come on so strong.”

  I shake my head, no. He doesn’t get it. These are tears of joy. Relief. Hope. I look into his eyes and then pull myself a little closer to him. When I close my eyes, his lips touch mine, and sparks of electricity course through me. It feels just like the first time. His touch causes this chemical reaction in my body, one that I can’t control. His tongue makes his way into my mouth as he buries his hands in my hair and pulls slightly. My heartbeat speeds up, and we start to move as one. His hands run down my neck and shivers run up my spine. As his tongue demands more and more of my mouth, his fingers make their way along the top of my breasts. I start to breathe a little faster. I run my fingers
down his body and stop at his thighs. I move my hand up and down his thighs, and his breathing speeds up to match mine. His erection is already full-fledged, and I press down on it, a little bit.

  “Oh, Chloe,” he moans into my ear.

  “Does it feel good?” I ask. He nods through the kiss.

  We mess around for a little bit longer, but never cross the line. My doctor has made it clear to me that I can’t participate in any recreational activities quite yet, and that includes sex. As much as I want to violate that rule, I can’t. A big part of me is relieved when Finn pulls away first. He was there when the doctor explained all the rules of recovery to me.

  After we stop making out like teenagers, he takes my hand in his and we again look out over the roof, admiring the lights below.

  “Finn,” I say after a while.

  “Yeah?” he responds after a moment. Lost in thought.

  “I love you too.”

  Epilogue - Chloe

  It is our two-year anniversary. Exactly two years since our date on top of the rooftop of the Cedar Sinai Medical Center. Though my recovery has been difficult at times, and I still have some pain in my neck when it rains, I’m pretty much all better. After our rooftop date, I went home with Finn and pretty much never left. At first, it was all under the guise that I still need to help with getting better, my parents had to go back home and Lila had to go to work. But after a few weeks, it was because we both wanted it that way. Every time I thought that I was overstaying my welcome, Finn would convince me that I wasn’t. He’d ask me to stay for a few days more. After a while, I just moved all of my things in and we were living together.

  Over the last two years, we moved to Malibu, Finn won an Independent Spirit Award for the movie that we had worked on together and became People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive. I started my own wardrobe styling business and just landed a big account with Universal. Three medium-budget movies! On my request, we kept our relationship pretty private, and because I’m not famous, the paparazzi have pretty much left us alone. But occasionally, I do see pictures of myself in US Weekly, shopping at Trader Joe’s in sweats. I rarely look good, and I’ve learned to avoid those magazines altogether.

  Last year for our one-year anniversary, Finn and I both had to work (him in Norway and me in LA), and we had to celebrate the day over FaceTime. So, when this one was coming up, he said that he had planned something extra special, but it’s a surprise. Finn isn’t really the super romantic sort, but I still have no idea what to expect.

  “Where are we going? Can you at least tell me that?” I turn to him in the back of the limousine.

  “That would ruin the surprise.”

  “Why can’t I at least take this off?” I ask, referring to the silk blindfold around my eyes. I don’t know anything about this, except that I should wear a dress and bring a jacket and a scarf. As a wardrobe stylist, I find it particularly annoying getting dressed for a surprise event. A dress and a jacket and a scarf? In the middle of a Southern California summer?

  I’m not sure if I should wear something too dressy or too casual, so I finally settle on a short, light blue dress with pockets and a tailored waist. It can really go either way. With heels, it’s a good fit for a fancy restaurant and, in flats, it’s a good option for the beach. I bring a pair of flats, just in case, a tightly-fitted black jacket, and translucent chiffon scarf.

  When we arrive at our destination, Finn suggests that maybe flats are in order. I change my shoes, and he helps me out of the limo. We walk for a few minutes over soft grass.

  “Good call on the flats,” I say.

  “Okay,” Finn stops me. “I’m going to take off the blindfold now.”

  We’re standing on a paddock, and there’s a giant yellow hot air balloon tied up next to us.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper, unable to contain my excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go on a hot air balloon ride!”

  “I know,” he smiles in that coy way that makes me swoon. “That’s why we’re here.”

  A few minutes later, we are flying high above the fields of Temecula, the wine region of Southern California. The view is absolutely breathtaking. Rolling hills, vast horizons, patches of green and yellow for as far as the eye can see.

  “This is magical,” I whisper, holding on to Finn as tightly as I can.

  “No, you are,” he says.

  I turn to face him. A few strands of hair fall into his face. His eyes twinkle in the sunlight.

  “Thank you,” I say. “This is the best anniversary present ever.”

  “There’s something else,” he says after a moment of gazing into my eyes.

  Suddenly, his face grows more serious. Contemplative. For a second, it feels like something is wrong, but then he reaches into the front pocket of his grey suit jacket and pulls out a tiny little box.

  I look at it. No. No, this can’t be what I think it is. Can it?

  “Chloe, you have completely changed my life. You have made me into someone who loves life. You have made me a better man. You have taught me what love is, and for that I can never thank you enough. Every day I feel myself falling more and more in love with you. I cannot imagine my life without you.”

  Finn gets down on one knee and opens the ring box. Inside, there’s a large halo diamond ring with little sparkling diamonds all around the sides.

  My heart starts to beat faster and faster. The world spins all around me. It’s difficult to tell whether it’s me or the balloon.

  “Will you marry me?”

  I look into his eyes. We haven’t talked about marriage at all. This is the last thing I ever expected, but there’s only one answer to his question.

  “Yes,” I whisper and wrap my arms around him.

  “Yes? Yes? Yes?” Finn asks over and over. It’s as if he can’t believe it. I can’t really believe it myself.

  When I look up into his eyes again, Finn has never looked this happy. He pulls me closer to him. I close my eyes. When our lips collide, the entire world becomes a blur. Life is an adventure, and he’s is the only person I want to take on my adventure.

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  Out of Bounds (Second Chance Book 1)

  5th Grade: Friends

  7th Grade: Best Friends

  11th Grade: Lovers

  12th Grade: Long distance lovers

  First Semester of College: Complicated

  Two weeks before we were going to start Columbia University together, Tristan dumped me and broke my heart. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me from attending my dream school. There’re more than 30,000 students on campus. What were the chances that I’d see him again?

  Or so I’d thought. And then I discovered that Tristan was going to be my roommate!

  It’s as if the whole universe conspired for us to fall in love again.

  **WARNING: Steamy scenes and mature situations

  Chapter 1

  I walk into my dorm room for the first time and take a deep breath. This is the beginning of something new. Something special. All through high school, I felt like college was going to be some sort of epilogue in the chapters of my life. It was everything I worked for, everything I tried so hard to achieve. While everyone else was hanging out and drinking and going to parties, I kept my nose in my books. But when this day finally arrived, it no longer felt like an epilogue. No, this is a prologue. The beginning of something special.

  “What a large room!” my mom exclaims, looking around my new home. The room is quite spacious. However, it’s not quite like the walls college students have on television and in movies. The ceiling is pretty high, but the walls are made of painted cinderblocks. White. Barren. So unlike the cozy, light pink room that I have back home.

  I walk
over to the window. It’s a beautiful late August day. I’m on the 16th floor, and from here I can see into other people’s apartments across the street.

  “I just can’t believe that I’m here.” I turn around with a puddle of tears stacking up on the bottom of my eyelids. “In New York.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” My mom puts her arms around me. She knows this has been my dream since I was in middle school. Mom gives me a quick hug and looks out of the window with me.

  “I just don’t know how people live here. It’s so crammed!”

  I smile. My mom is not a fan of New York. I grew up in Calabasas, a town just north of Los Angeles, where the sky is almost always cloudless and blue and the temperature never gets cooler than 70 degrees Fahrenheit. My family’s upper middle class, but not what’s considered rich. At least not by LA standards. Still, our family of five lived comfortably in a 3,000 square foot house with a 6,000 square foot yard with a pool.

  “I hope you have nice roommates,” Mom says.

  “Of course, she will,” Dad pipes in. He’s standing in the doorway, clearly not impressed. “I just can’t believe that this room costs $17,000 a year! And you have three other roommates.”

  Mom and I laugh it off. Even though my dad isn’t cheap, he always likes to complain about how much things cost.

  “Suite mates,” I correct him. “I have one roommate and three suite mates.” Our rooms are separated by a living room with a little kitchen and there’s only one bathroom for everyone to share.