by Tess Harper
I walk up. There's no use in going down yet. We aren't due to leave for another hour, and I might run into one of the true guests of this event. I rub my arms. The large Dada paintings stare back at me.
Cassie would appreciate being here more. She knows about these sorts of things. I heard some of the guests describe the artworks as playful, but to me they look tired and subdued. The strange, brilliant blues look out of place next to all those neutral colors and earth tones. Many of the abstract shapes are outlined thickly with black. There's something off-putting about that; it feels like they're trying to break free. I don't understand them and, even more strangely, it almost feels like the paintings are aware of my ignorance.
I glance down at my water. Damn, almost empty.
"Laura," a voice from behind calls.
My nerves spike. I spin around, spilling water on my dress. A familiar face gives me a little smile and I sigh. "David, I didn't expect you to be there."
"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," he says. He grabs a napkin from his pocket and hands it to me.
"Why do you have that?" I ask as I begin to dab.
"I don't know. In case a pretty girl makes a mess, I guess."
"Pretty girls shouldn't make messes. They make them a little less pretty," I say.
"I don't think that's true. Not my kind of pretty girl."
His cheeks are red as he says it. He looks to the side. I stop dabbing, suddenly aware that Dolly's white dress is completely wet.
"This isn't just a big ploy to make my dress see through, is it? Is that why you startled me?" I tease, trying to take away some of the strange tension between us.
He frowns, eyes oddly bright and...heated. "Do you really think I'd do that?"
"I don't know, I..." I'm suddenly oddly lightheaded. I've never seen David look like that at me.
"I wouldn't. I'd never do anything to make you feel bad. I..." he rakes his hand through his hair and looks away again. His cheeks are burning. For some reason, my heart is fluttering. It startles me. I've never felt this way before about my friend. Then again, I've never seen him act this way.
"Are you feeling better?" David asks.
"Yeah. Thank god it's just water. Dolly would kill me if I stained this."
"I wasn't talking about the shirt," David whispers.
I'm breathing heavily. "What do you mean?"
He sighs. "You really think I wouldn't notice how sad you've been this past week?"
I almost drop my glass. I will drop it if I hold it much longer, I realize, so I set it down on the floor between us. "I've just been..." I don't know what to tell him, so I trail off.
"I asked Cassie what was up," David said.
I freeze.
"She wouldn't tell me."
Thank God.
"But luckily Dolly was there and she did."
Shit! What the hell, Dolly?
"Any guy that hurts you isn't worth crying over," David says, his voice low and husky.
Wait a minute, just how much did Dolly tell him? "It was nothing, it was--"
"It wasn't nothing, not if he makes you cry like that." David sounds angry. I don't realize that he's advancing and I'm retreating until I hit a small white table by the woman's restroom.
"David," I whisper. Down below, I hear them cheer. Someone is giving a speech--probably the beneficiary or someone toasting him.
His chest rises and falls quickly. There's an intensity in his gaze I've never seen before. His hands trail over my wrists. "You should be cherished. You should be told how beautiful you are every day--how much you are wanted."
I can't say anything. He's close, and I'm noticing the fine sculpt of his cheekbones, the smoothness of his skin, the scent of his pine aftershave. The light hits his face, and I see his beautiful brown, warm eyes. They look straight into me, demanding that I look straight into them.
His hands slide over mine. His fingers are strong. They're used to playing the piano, guitar, and violin. His full lips play the clarinet. He becomes a god when he plays. There's no one like him. And I feel like he's aware of every little shiver in my body and every muscle tightening as if he's about to play it.
"What are you saying?" I can't believe how breathless I am.
He swallows--a sign of nervousness--but his eyes don't leave mine and his grip tightens. He doesn't back down even though he's afraid. "That if you were mine, I would tell you every day of your life, as often as I could, that I wanted you. That you are beautiful. That I love you."
My eyes feel dry. My throat so tight. "I can't do this, David."
"Can't do what?"
I don't know what I can't do all of a sudden. Even though I'm so afraid I can't stop looking at him. He's pinned me with his gaze. "I can't do this," I whisper, somehow. "I love him."
Something briefly flickers across his eyes. I've hurt him. I can tell by how his hands briefly tighten even more over my wists. "But he hurts you, Laura. He won't let you in. He doesn't support you. He won't even let you look at his face."
My cheeks are hot. I can't believe Dolly told him that much. It is so embarrassing that I gave myself to someone who won't even...I shut my eyes. God, I don't even want to think of it.
"I have to go," I say, but David doesn't let go and I don't try to free myself.
"Look at me," he says. It's a demand. David has never demanded anything from me.
I shut my eyes tighter. "I don't think--"
"Laura, look at me."
I do. And his eyes are warm and brown. They still look into mine as if I'm the only thing in the world. And they still want me to look back at him.
He leans in.
"I can't do this," I tell him.
"Why?"
"I...I..."
He smiles slightly. "You should answer quickly, Laura."
"I love him." He stops when our lips are almost touching. If he slipped, less than an inch, they would be touching.
"So?" he asks.
"How can you want to be with me when I'm thinking of someone else."
"Easy. I won't let you think of him anymore." His eyelids grow heavy. "It's my fault this happened, you know. I can't blame you for not psychically knowing what I never told you. That would be extreme arrogance and selfishness on my part."
"I..."
"And stupidity," he cuts me off. "I should have told you the moment I knew. I shouldn't have given you any reason to ever look in any direction but mine. I knew the moment you walked into class five minutes late. Your cello case knocked against the door and you cringed as the teacher glared at you. Your cheeks flushed as you murmured sorry. Then you just stood there until the teacher told you to take your seat.
"I don't think I took a breath that entire time. I thought I was hallucinating when you started to walk towards me. Then I realized that my friend was sick and that the nearest empty seat was next to me. I know it's a horrible thing to say, but I was so happy he was sick that day. I don't even think you looked at me when you asked if you could sit there. You were too embarrassed to look at anyone. But I saw no one but you.
"It took me another two weeks to work up the nerve to really talk to you. And when I had, I wondered what had taken me so long, because you are so sweet, so kind, so beautiful, so perfect."
"David," I whisper.
He shuts his eyes as I say his name. "I know you don't feel the same. I know you're...still attached to him. But please, Laura, let me try."
I don't know what to do. This should feel wrong, but something about this also feels right. My heart belongs to someone else, yet for some reason he's still here.
I don't want to love a phantom anymore. All he gave me was an obsession that breeds in the silence and the dark. I'm just as captivated by my anonymous lover's absence as I was with his touch. I'm being consumed by my obsession, and I don't want to be. I want someone kind. Someone who is always honest. Someone like David.
He squeezes my hands again. He's asking, silently. His eyes are so dark and filled with passion that I c
an't help but be swallowed by it. I part my legs and nod, just barely, and that minuscule amount of space between us disappears.
His lips are full and lush and warm. He doesn't do anything at first but press them into mine. Slowly, I open my mouth and flick my tongue against his lips. They taste of wine. He groans and his grip moves from my hands to my back as he pushes me over the table, dragging his knees over my thighs as he climbs on top of me.
My heart hammers in my chest. David doesn't act impulsively--at least not the David I know. My hands fist his shirt, pulling it up, and I feel his flat, muscular stomach. I know what it looks like. I've seen it many times before. But this is the first time I've felt his smooth, sculpted skin, so different from that other man's tortured, scarred body.
Make me forget, I think as I run my hands up his back and over his shoulder blades.
He groans at my touch. He kisses me greedily, but it's not possessive. I feel safe here. A feeling rushes through my body that has nothing to do with obsession or darkness. I've never been consumed by something so warm and beautiful--pure, simple, incandescent pleasure.
His hand moves in between my thighs. I feel his fingers on my panties.
He's moving so fast. I whimper, startled, and he takes it as a sign of pleasure, and it is, but greater than that pleasure is the sudden awareness that we're still at some rich guy's party I was hired to sing at.
"Laura," he breathes.
"No," I say. "Too fast." It's silly for me to tell him this when I allowed a man I didn't know and had never seen to enter me. I know more of David than I'll ever know of that strange man, and unlike my previous lover, David wants me to know everything about him.
His breathing staggers. "Alright." He pushes himself off the table. His thighs slide off mine. He offers me his hand with a shy smile.
I take it. "I'm sorry..."
"Nothing to be sorry about." He pulls me up. Right next to his shoulders and compact, hard, sculpted body. He runs his hand down the center of my back, and I'm struck again by how strong his fingers are and how good they feel on my skin. "We should probably go back."
I nod and he gives my hand a squeeze.
Chapter 20
It doesn't take long to get back to the party. We enter and I begin to straighten my dress, but David stops me. I realize my actions are making look like we did something. Which we did. Sort of. Almost.
My cheeks are so hot. Thankfully, he doesn't leave my side when a few people come over to congratulate me on my performance. I almost can't hear their words. My mind is racing with David's body beside me. With David's hand on my hand. With David's Davidness. And yet, something else also bothers me. The back of my neck feels oddly cold.
I turn my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him.
He's in the center of a group of men. He has a dark, angular face. Since he's in shadow, I can't quite make out his features. Our eyes meet. Another man would have looked away after being caught staring, but he doesn't. Someone says something and he responds without looking from me as he brushes his middle finger over his bottom lip.
I am the first to look away. Or maybe I'm the only one who looks away. I don't know; I really don't want to look up and make sure he isn't watching anymore. My body feels electrified, dirty, and sore.
"Laura?" I feel pressure on my shoulder. It's David.
"Yeah?" I whisper.
"Is something wrong?"
I shake my head.
"You're not regretting what I did--"
"No, not that," I interrupt, grabbing onto his wrist and pulling him close. I need a shield between me and that man.
David runs his hands over my jaw. "Look at me."
I do, slowly. There's that command again in a voice I don't recognize. His perfect cheekbones fill my vision. His brown eyes are framed with long black eyelashes.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"I don't know. I just want..." I don't know what I want. I've forgotten now that we're so close. And the heat from him and the heat from that stranger's gaze fills my body and makes it ache.
He smiles and runs a hand over my shoulders. "Do you want to dance?"
His answer is so unexpected that for a moment I can't respond. By the time I'm cogent enough to form a response, we're already moving towards the center of the room.
The blond wood beneath our feet glows under the bright lights above. He faces me, placing his hand on my hip.
"You're serious?"
He nods, pulling me into his arms. It's ambient music. Not really music people are supposed to dance to. But we rock back and forth to the ever changing, lazy beat.
I shut my eyes and rest my head on his chest. I hear the steady beat of his heart. "Why didn't you ever say anything, David?"
He doesn't pretend to not know what I'm talking about. "I thought I already told you."
"You didn't, not entirely," I answer. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I didn't want to be rejected," he says.
"Why would you think I would do that?"
"Because you wouldn't want to ruin what we had. I didn't either. I just...wanted to stay close to you. And you made it easy, I guess, for me to not say anything. You never had a man around you. I always thought you'd come to me."
I pull away and look up at him. "Come to you?"
"I was hoping you'd make it easy on me. Not very manly, I know."
"I didn't even realize." It isn't until after the words are out of my mouth that I realize how cruel they are.
"I know." He tilts his head and kisses my knuckles. The song ends and I start to pull away.
He doesn't let go.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"If you think I'm going to let you go now that I have you, you're crazy."
"What do you mean?"
"The moment I let go of you, someone else is going to swoop down and steal your attention."
"That's ridiculous."
"I don't think so. There are a couple of guys here that are already planning to do that, I think."
I think of the guy in the corner with the intense eyes. Suddenly, I'm really happy that David doesn't want to go anywhere.
"That's what made you uncomfortable, wasn't it?" David asks.
"I..."
"It made me uncomfortable too."
I bite my lip and look down. "Really?"
"Yeah. Really."
"Oh."
He moves in closer, lowers his hands. "I think I should stake my claim."
"What?"
"You know, let all the other men in the room--"
"That's so...juvenile," I reply.
"That's how men are," David says.
I start to laugh.
"It's not funny."
"Yes it is," I reply.
"Alright, it kind of is," he smiles.
I look up at him, grinning. "So, are you going to do it?"
"Do what?" His eyes lose focus.
"Stake your claim."
He raises a brow. "You want me to?"
"I thought guys weren't supposed to ask before staking their claim."
He groans. "Come on, Laura. I'm not going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off to the nearest bathroom stall. I believe in equal rights and all that."
I can barely hold my laughter in at the image.
"Unless, of course..." his eyes take on a dark glint I'm not used to, "you want me to."
My cunt clenches. Did he really just say that to me? And when his voice changed like that, I...I don't know what's going on, but my body reactedto it as well, almost as if it wants...
"You didn't answer my question," he notes.
"What question was that?"
He flashes a devilish smile. "If you want me to stake my claim."
I bite my lip. "Maybe."
"Just maybe? You should be sure before you say something like that."
My stomach is in knots. I grip onto him harder.
"Laura?"
"I...I don't really...know..."
&
nbsp; "I know, I'm just teasing you," he says. "This is fine. This is everything I've wanted for years."
His hands slide down my body. Already, they feel familiar and comforting. If that man still watches me, I don't care. I'm no longer thinking of it. It's so far away now. Everything outside of this kind man's embrace feels so very far away.
***
David and I leave before we're supposed to. The other girls decide to stay and talk with those who enjoyed our concert, so David and I do our best with public transportation instead of taking Professor Cade's bug. It's raining, so he makes me take his jacket.
David makes a point of walking on the inside of the street, so if a car or taxi runs through a puddle he'll get wet instead of me. It's a kind gesture, and it would have been perfect if he wasn't just a tad faster than me, and pulling me along, and if that taxi hadn't been going so fast around that sharp corner with the unfortunately deep puddle.
I turn my head as the wave hits. Thankfully David gave me his jacket, but it isn't long enough. From about mid-thigh down, I'm completely soaked.
"Oh God," David groans.
"It's fine," I tell him. "I don't care."
"Well I care."
"I don't!" I yell.
"Well I--"
"If we don't move fast we're going to miss it!" I laugh.
"You're right," David realizes, and the two of us dash forward. He grabs my hand as we make our way down into the subway. There aren't too many people out at this stop. He makes sure I get on first. His hands on the gold bars, looking at me, grinning. Water running down his hair, making it a dirty blond, his wet eyelashes look longer.
I hand him his soaked jacket.
He reluctantly accepts it. "I'm only holding onto this until we get off."
"Oh."
He grins. I feel giddy. Light. Our hands holding the same metal bar. My dress sticks to my upper thighs. I'm soaking.
"Wish I had a longer jacket," David murmurs, looking down at me. "Then you wouldn't have gotten wet at all."
"Maybe, but that's putting a lot of unnecessary pressure on yourself."
"Unnecessary pressure? I think I already did that, because if you'd had a longer jacket, right now no one else would see those great legs."
My breath catches. "Oh."