Last First Kiss

by Sidney Halston

  “So do I get to see you chew tonight?”

  She snorted and then covered her mouth. “Shut it. I ate crème brûlée the other night and unless they have a lasagna smoothie, yes, I’ll be chewing my food tonight.”

  The server came by and asked for their drink order. “Wine?” Rocco asked her.

  “On duty,” she answered. “I’ll have iced tea, please.”

  “I’ll have a Peroni.”

  The server walked away. “So, our first date.”

  “Very classy, Monroe. I get a tux and everything.”

  “Whatever it takes.” He gave her a toothy smile.

  “To get into my pants, huh?”

  There was an odd expression on his face, one she hadn’t seen before. Embarrassment, maybe?

  “What?”

  “Can we get back to this morning? You were very chatty.”

  “Chatty? What do you mean? About the tiger thing? It’s a depressing story, Rocco. I really prefer not to talk about it.”

  “No, not just that. There was more.”

  “More?” She worried the napkin in her lap. What the hell had she said?

  “A lot more.” He took a big drink of his water. “Earlier, when you said you wanted to be together, what exactly did you mean, Annabelle?” The drinks arrived at that moment and the server took their order. “More kissing? Dating? Sex? What did you mean?” She noted an implication in his tone as if he knew something and was trying to pry it out of her.

  “Yes. All of the above, I guess—Oh!” Then the memory hit her. Sex. They’d discussed sex. Well, not so much discussed but she’d volunteered a lot more information than she should’ve. “Oh my God.” She felt her cheeks flame and she thought she would throw up.

  “I guess you remember.”

  She looked down, not wanting to make eye contact. Why hadn’t he just spit it out? He’d let her go through the entire stressful day knowing this and not mentioning it. “I am mortified.”

  “Don’t be. Please. I’m glad you told me. If anything, I’m mortified. The things I said to you were inappropriate.”

  She looked down at the bread the waiter had brought to the table and busied herself violently buttering it. “Can you look at me, please?” Rocco asked.

  “Nope. I’m good. Thanks.”

  He pulled the bread she was massacring out of her hand. “Annabelle . . .”

  “Can we just pretend none of that happened?” Please say yes. Please say yes. How wonderful would it be if someone yelled fire right now!

  With his thumb and forefinger he gripped her chin and moved her head up to meet his eyes. “No, we can’t. Look at me. Open your eyes.”

  Reluctantly, she did. Slowly. One eye at a time. His soft gaze was on her and it made her heart thunder. She liked when those blue eyes were soft and full of adoration but not when those same eyes looked at her with pity. And right now he looked like he felt sorry for her, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  “Is it true? Are you a virgin?”

  She groaned and then nodded, hating feeling insecure and unsure.

  “How’s that possible? I mean, you’re twenty-seven years old, and you’re absolutely stunning. And I say that as a man with eyes, not as a man who’s hitting on you. Although, please, be aware, I’m hitting on you. I’ve been doing that since we met.”

  She rolled her eyes but a smile escaped her lips. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

  “Which brings me to that. I feel like a dick for the things I said to you. I shouldn’t . . . I mean, I overstepped. I’m sorry.”

  Abruptly, she sat up. Ugh! Yes, it was pity on his face and she didn’t like it one bit. “See. That’s what I don’t want you to do. That’s why I’ve never said that out loud. I don’t want you totreat me differently. Don’t start walking on eggshells around me. You’re a perverted dirty old man, don’t change because you think you’ll shock my sensibilities.” Of all the things she was beginning to like about him, his candor and ability to be open was her favorite. He wore his heart on his sleeve and she didn’t want him having to measure his comments in order to protect her innocence.

  He sat back and crossed his arms playfully. “Hey! I’m not an old man.”

  “So you admit you’re perverted and dirty.”

  “I’m only ten years older than you,” he said, avoiding the other part of the question. “You haven’t answered my question. Why are you a virgin?”

  “It’s really none of your business.”

  “Well, if you want me to sleep with you, it kinda is.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I have a lot of time.”

  “Can we eat first?” she asked as the food arrived. She’d ordered lasagna and he’d ordered lobster ravioli.

  “I’m not letting you off the hook, crazy,” he said, stabbing a ravioli and sticking it in his mouth. “So good. How did I not know this place existed?”

  “Why would you? It’s a hole in the wall.”

  “It’s great.”

  As they dug into her food, her phone rang. Thank God. Saved by the phone. Annabelle tried to not let her relief show. “It’s Joey. I need to take this.”

  “Go for it,” he said with a mouthful of food.

  “What’s up, Joe?”

  “False alarm. It was a bunch of articles and propaganda, mostly in Spanish, of all the great things Mendoza accomplished. It even included stats and graphs.”

  “That’s it, nothing more?”

  “There was a note that said: Americans not welcome.”

  “Well, that’s ominous.”

  “I think they just want to scare the studio into not making this movie.” Joey said.

  So far they’d had the brick through the window and now a bag of papers. There was a real threat, that wasn’t in question, but it wasn’t grave enough that she’d need backup. She could handle it. “So, we’ll head home after dinner, then.”

  “Annie, as your older brother, I have to say, I don’t like this.” He said it softly. “He’s an actor. Whatever is happening between you two, remember that. You’ve seen how he treats women. He’s a player, a forever bachelor. You don’t want to be just another notch.”

  “Is your concern over his safety or my virtue?”

  “Annie, I’m just worried about you.”

  “I appreciate that, Joey. I really do. But it’s really not your problem I’m a big girl, Joe. I got this.”

  “Fine. But I don’t like it and I don’t trust him.”

  “Noted,” she said, before hanging up. God, having older brothers sucked! It was also oddly sweet.

  “So what happened?” Rocco asked, reaching to her plate to snag a piece of lasagna.

  “Hey!” she yelled, stopping his fork. “I’m starving.”

  “There’s no way you’re going to eat all that.”

  “Wanna bet?” She began to eat, ravenous. “So,” she said with a mouthful. “There was nothing concerning in the bag. Just a bunch of propaganda about Mendoza. We can go back to your house.” It wasn’t that it was not concerning. A bag full of clippings left in the middle of a lobby, secretly, was never good. But if they’d wanted to hurt Rocco, they wouldn’t have filled that bag with papers.

  “This isn’t the only movie that gets a lot of heat. Remember that Mel Gibson movie about Jesus? Or when Madonna was cast to play Evita Peron?”

  “If you say so.” She shrugged and took another bite. “You’re the actor, not me.”

  He had inhaled his food and was twirling the fork with his fingers. “There was more to that conversation. You guys were talking about me.”

  She finished chewing and then swallowed as he looked at her, eager to hear the rest of it. “He said you’re an actor and I’m going to get hurt.”

  “He thinks I’d lead you on? That I’m just . . . acting? Basically, that I’m faking my way into your pants?”

  She stopped eating and leaned forward to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “He’s just worried, Rocco.” His jaw clenched and he crac
ked the knuckles of his forefinger and thumb, loudly. How he hadn’t broken a joint, she’d never know. “If you think I’d sleep with you—use you somehow—you don’t know me at all. I would never do that. Not to you or anyone else. I thought you’d knew me a little better than that.”

  She let go of of her fork and it clanked loudly against her plate. “No. I know that. You asked me what he said, and I’m telling you. But I don’t think that at all. You’ve been nothing but truthful. It’s hard to ignore the things I’ve read about you in the media, but I’m trying.”

  “If I have to deal with your job, you have to deal with mine. And mine entails a lot of bullshit lies from the press.”

  “I understand.” She sighed, reached across the table, and placed her hand over his. “You’re right.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed each finger in a completely sweet way that left her tingling.

  He looked down at her empty plate. “I’m impressed. Do you want anything else? Dessert? Coffee?”

  She sat back and patted her full belly. “No. I’m good.”

  He signaled for the server to bring their check, and when she tried to take out money, he stopped her. “Come on, let’s go. I want to hear all your secrets.”

  She groaned into his chest as he helped her out of the booth.

  “Oh man, we don’t have a car.” They’d gone to the gala in a limo and then to ICS with Ben.

  “Uber?” she suggested. “Or we can call one of the guys to take us.”

  “No. Uber,” he said taking out his phone.

  The ride was fast and she sat close to him, tucked under his shoulder. She kept fumbling with her hair and at one point he took her wrist and stopped her. “Stop. Relax,” he said, then he pulled her in closer and kissed the top of her head. The rest of the trip back was mostly silent, as her mind reeled with what Joey had said.

  When she’d taken the job, she’d sworn to Joey and to herself she wouldn’t get attached to Rocco and definitely she wouldn’t sleep with him. But in the short time they’d known each other, she’d already told him so much about herself. Things she never shared. He was the only person who knew she was a virgin, for crying out loud.

  And here she was, in the same place she’d been all those years ago . . . about to put her career on the line for a man.

  Was he worth it?

  * * *

  “Wait here,” she said, practically jumping out of the car while forcing him to stay outside of his own home.

  He was too tired to argue, and he knew he wasn’t going to win, unless he literally picked her up and carried her inside. But even then, with her ninja skills, it was likely he’d end up on his ass. So, he stayed put. Anyway, he was certain everything was going to be okay, with the state-of-the-art security system he had upgraded at her recommendation and the new neighborhood patrol that drove around periodically. He wondered if some of the extra security came with the security package NHN was paying for, or if that was an added benefit of having the owner be a protective older brother.

  Ten minutes later, the door opened.

  “Okay, all good. Come on.”

  She held the door open, her weapon by her side, looking all sorts of sexy with those long-ass legs and sexy shoes. His eyes stayed on the way the little buckle pressed softly against her delicate ankles. “Those shoes don’t seem conducive to sweeping my house, Tiger.”

  She lifted the dress slightly and swirled around on her sky-high stilettos. “You’d be surprised by what a woman in heels can achieve, Monroe.” It was that flirty banter he loved so much. It didn’t always come out, but when it did, it was spectacular.

  Once they were inside and the doors were locked, she turned to him. “Go on up, I’ll secure the rest of the house.”

  She didn’t give him much time to say anything before she moved to the next room. They still needed to talk, and there was no way she’d be able to give him her full attention if she hadn’t done her job first. So he went to his room and changed out of his tux, brushed his teeth and washed his face, and got ready for bed. When he was done, he went downstairs and uncorked a bottle of wine, grabbed two glasses, and went up to her room.

  He knocked. “Come in!” she yelled from the bathroom. “One second.”

  He poured two glasses, set the bottle on the nightstand, and took a seat on one of the loveseats across the bed.

  Wiping her face with a towel she stepped out of the bathroom. She had on a T-shirt that went to her knees and long fuzzy socks, her hair was in a knot on top of her head, and her skin was free of all makeup. She looked years younger. In fact, too young.

  “What’s that?” she signaled to the glasses with her chin as she tossed the towel in the hamper.

  “You’re off duty.” He handed her a glass. “And we need to talk. No more getting out of it.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed in front of him and tried to hand the glass back. “First of all, I’m never off duty. I can’t drink and work. And second, talking while drunk isn’t the answer. Something you should know about me. I rarely drink, but when I get drunk I’m a sappy crying drunk.”

  “Really? Interesting. Look forward to seeing that someday. Regardless, you’re not going to get drunk. It’s one glass. It’s been a long day. It feels like three days ago since you went to ICS and came back all beat up.”

  “It feels like it,” she agreed.

  “The alarm is on, I’m in the same room as you, I’m sure you have an arsenal of weapons within arms’ reach. Come on, loosen up. On Monday things are going to get intense. Tonight may be the last time you can relax.”

  She looked at him for a moment, then to the red wine, as if deciding. Finally he could see her shoulders relax a little as she took a sip. “Okay, so what do you want to talk about?”

  “You know what I want to talk about. Why are you a virgin?”

  She gulped down the rest of the wine and flung herself back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and covering her face. “I have a gun under the mattress. Right side. Pull it out and shoot me with it, please.”

  He chuckled, took her glass from her hand and put it aside, then sat next to her on the bed. “Come on, sit up. Talk to me.”

  “I was in love once,” she began. He felt a stab of jealousy as she said it. He knew her enough to know she wasn’t the kind of woman to give her heart to just anyone. So this guy must’ve been a big deal. He hated him immediately. “I was an MP in the army. Derek was my commanding officer. Dating him was off limits, but it happened. You’re out there, day in and day out, living the same experiences, feeling the same things, and it just happens. We snuck around for about six months. I was terrified of getting caught, he could’ve been demoted, stripped of his position, fined . . . not to mention, it’s hard enough for a woman in the military, but a woman in the line of fire was very rare. The only reason I was allowed there was because of my MP status. I didn’t want to be that stereotype—the girl who was infatuated with her superior.”

  She had goose bumps on her arm, so he lifted the covers and they both slid under. He rubbed her arms until she was warm. “But were you in a relationship? Or was it just a one-sided thing?”

  Her hands were palm to palm under her face. He had his elbow to the bed and his face on his palm.

  “No, it wasn’t one-sided. He was ready to put his entire career on the line to be with me. He loved me. A lot. He told me often.”

  “And you never had sex with him?” he said, skeptically.

  “Remember that I grew up with four brothers. I was never the girly-girl who liked boys. I was the tomboy who liked to compete with the boys. I enlisted as soon as I could. When was I going to have sex, exactly? During basic? In a tent in Afghanistan? I was ready, though, I wanted it to be Derek and it likely would have been, but then he was killed during a surprise attack while we were on foot patrol. He died right in front of my eyes.” She had a lump in her throat as she spoke. She thought about it all the time but never voiced it. Except this same afternoon to Joey. It hurt to talk
about it.

  “What? Fuck, Annabelle.”

  “So.” She gulped, trying to hold back her tears. “There was this little girl, nine years old, Yagana was her name. She would visit us every time we were around. So beautiful.” Her mind drifted to the brown-haired, brown-eyed little girl—tattered shoes, ragged clothes, but with the most mesmerizing and joyful smile Annabelle had ever known. “A girl born into the worst of circumstances. Bombings all around her, most of her family dead, she was always so happy. She would make me little figurines out of uncooked rice and I’d give her chocolate every time I received a care package from home. I started waiting for her to come visit me every day when we did our daily foot patrols.”

  “This is not going to end well, is it?”

  She shook her head and he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Yagana made me this little tiger, the size of my palm, the last time I saw her. She would say I was a tiger in the cutest broken English. Remember, in her culture women like me weren’t the norm. Normally they were looked down upon and didn’t have the same rights as men. That day Derek was on the other side of the street. It was a street we’d walked through a dozen times. Street vendors everywhere. Most of the people were good people, Rocco. Really, they embraced us with open arms. All they want is a life where they can raise their children and find happiness and feel safe. The same things we all want. But three men in vests came out of nowhere. I pulled out my weapon and shot as soon as I realized what was happening, but it was no use. There were three of them. All I could do was cover Yagana when things went to hell, but . . .” she shook her head and swallowed. She was obviously trying to push down the tears. “But it did no use. We flew back across the street, my back hit something hard, and I blacked out.”

  He wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. But he also wanted to shake her and yell at her to let it all out. Tell her it was okay to cry. That showing emotions did not make her weak. He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead and then the top of her head. She’d been through so much. Things he could never even begin to imagine. “Jesus Christ.”