by Lan LLP
“Yes!” she growls, losing her patience with me. “She’s just going to be knocked out for a few hours. You need to shut up and pull yourself together, here she comes,” she warns me to keep my cool.
“Lily, you can’t go yet. You haven’t even finished your beer which is warm because you’ve been nursing it. The night is still young, and we’re on break with no responsibilities for the next four days,” I attempt to persuade her with my slightly quivering voice.
“Alright, I’ll stay a tad bit longer,” she reluctantly agrees and takes a few more gulps. I observe her cautiously, making sure she’s okay. After about ten minutes, I see her slowly getting woozy. Her eyelids begin to flutter; she reaches for her head and attempts to maintain her balance. Finally, she stumbles over her unsteady feet, and falls conveniently into my arms.
“Lil, are you okay?” I shake her gently, asking for a response. No answer, she’s completely out. I think my heart stop beating as I stare at her unconscious body.
“Shit, what’s going on with Lil? I’ve never seen her like this?” Amelia freaks out and then reaches for Lil’s wrist to get a pulse. “Her pulse rate is fine,” she exhales a sigh of relief. “What happened?” Amelia asks me again.
“She barely finished her one beer, and it knocked her out. What a lightweight!” I try to lighten the situation with a little joshing. “I’ll take her back to the dorm and tuck her in. She’ll be fine tomorrow morning,” I assure her but the doubtful expression on her concerned face tells me she’s not buying my bullshit.
“I’ll go with you. I want to make sure she’ll be okay for her flight tomorrow morning,” Amelia insists.
“No, stay!” I exclaim nervously. “It’s my fault she’s this way. I’m the one who pushed her to drink the last of her beer, so I’m responsible for her, not you.” I’m sweating profusely now, worried and flustered. “I’ll make sure she’s fine and then meet you back here when I’m done. It won’t take me long.” I try my best to convince her to stay here, but I’m not having much luck.
“I don’t feel right staying, but I know you’ll take good care of her. You promise you won’t be too long?” She indecisively looks at me, debating yes or no. I can’t believe Amelia decided to stay at the very last minute, thank god.
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Fuck, what was I thinking when I agreed to go along with Bianca’s deranged plan? Lily looks so helpless, lying here passed-out in my bed. Standing above her, I stare regretfully at her beautiful face, flawless skin and slender body. Sasha is preparing her photo equipment while I debate if I’m capable of going through with this malicious plan.
“Take her damn clothes off! Do I have to do everything for you?” Her harsh command snaps me out of my brittle contemplation. Raising her left arm to undress her, I spot the bracelet I bought for her the first day we met. I remember being immediately taken by her sweet bashfulness. I can’t believe she’s still wearing it. What does this mean? A surge of mixed emotions paralyzes me, immobilizing my ability to continue. I ask Sasha to complete my task and place her partially naked body under my sheets.
Again, she hounds me to fulfill my part of the plan. “Richard, what the hell are you waiting for? We don’t have all night.” Her biting tone tells me that she has no patience left for me. I remove my shirt and pants and crawl under the sheets right next to Lily. I’ve played this moment a hundred times in my head, but in my fantasy, she’s madly in love with me and not drugged up.
Sasha positions Lily and me in incriminating, sexual poses and snaps pictures of us at various angles. “Good fake-fucking job, Richard! I have all the pictures I need here. You have a couple of hours before she regains consciousness, so have your way with her,” she cackles loudly, packs up her gear and exits my room as quickly as she came.
I regretfully lay here next to her beautiful body, yearning to touch and make love to her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. There’s no passion here, it would be rape instead. If only she would love me, I wouldn’t have to go down this despicable path. With one last agonizing gaze of her alluring body, I dress her and carry her back to her room. As soon as I finish pulling the covers over her body, I hear the front door open and then shut with a thundering slam.
Carson storms fiercely at me, getting right in my face, huffing with forceful air. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You know she can’t handle her alcohol. Why did you push her to drink? Were you planning on taking advantage of her?” The words angrily sputter out of his mouth as he accuses me, breathing heavily through his flared nostrils and gritting his teeth. He isn’t exaggerating, but I’d never admit that to him.
“Back the fuck away from me! You have no right to accuse me of any indecency. First of all, I didn’t know she couldn’t handle her alcohol and secondly, I care for her safety as much as you do,” I heatedly defend myself, not backing down to his alpha dominance.
Amelia comes charging at us just in the nick of time to break up our heated discussion, preventing us from getting into a bloody fist fight. “Cool it or I’ll kick the both of you out! Richard, please go back to your room to blow off some steam. Carson, you can stay here if you promise to be nice to Richard. He was only trying to be a good friend to Lil by taking care of her.” Amelia has such a sweet voice and soothing way about her that she calms us both down immediately. We walk quietly away in opposite directions and our hostility slowly fades. Damn Bianca for getting me involved in her fucked-up scheme, which is now a shitty nightmare for me. What have I done? If Lily ever finds out, she’ll hate me, and I’ll lose her forever.
Carson Bradley
Lily hasn’t responded this badly to alcohol since I’ve known her. Amelia claims that Lil barely finished one beer. She knows her limits and is very responsible, except for the one time with me. I insisted on taking her to the hospital to have her checked out, but Amelia strongly advised me against it. She explained that reckless intoxication wouldn’t look good on Lil’s permanent professional record. Furthermore, she offered to take turns monitoring Lil with me. I reluctantly agreed. I can’t help thinking that something was slipped into her beer. Could Richard have possibly drugged her to have his way with her, but was interrupted by me? Is he that desperate to be with her? What the fuck is wrong with you? I quickly push that appalling thought aside. My jealousy is disturbing, and I’m ashamed for even going down that ridiculous path. I’ve never acted like this before, being so protective of a woman.
Her body is still peacefully sleeping, without a single sign of awareness. I fight tooth and nail to stay awake, making sure she wouldn’t need anything from me. Eventually, I surrender to my exhaustion and fall asleep. “No…no Lily…Stop!” My mumbling wakes me, and I find myself drenched in cold sweat. Sitting straight up, I wrap my arms around my bent legs, trying to settle my fear. Shit, my nightmare is so damn vivid. I can still see Richard eagerly fucking Lily. Their bodies were twisted like wild vines as she begged him for more, screaming his name out loudly. My heart is thrashing with anger, jealousy, and hatred for the Richard in my nightmare. I know it wasn’t real, but the thought of her with any man makes me completely unstable. I lower my body next to her, stroke the back of my hand gently across her forehead and along her beautiful face, enjoying the feel of her silky, soft skin. This young woman came out of nowhere and stole my heart without any effort. I’m determined to be with her, but how do I convince her to move to Boston with me?
It’s already 6:47 a.m. and Lil’s still sleeping soundly. Owen will have to rebook our flights to Chicago for later this morning. There’s no possible way she’ll be ready to fly out by 7:00 a.m. nor do I intend to push her. I can only imagine how rotten she’ll feel when she finally wakes up. I’ve been in her shoes many times before, and every time I woke up feeling that shitty, I swore I’d never do it again.
Lillian Ly
Oh god, my head hurts like it’s been rammed into a brick wall and then run over by a freight train. I feel severely nauseated, so much that I trip over my unstea
dy feet, running to the bathroom to vomit. I continue dry heaving for several more minutes until I could no longer force anything out except for the water streaming down my eyes. My abdomen is inflamed from all the hurling I’ve been doing. I hug the toilet with my trembling arms like I’m hugging a reliable friend. Carson is holding my ponytail back and rubbing the area between my shoulder blades. What’s he doing here, and how did I end up like this? Crap, I hate him seeing me in this appalling condition. I’m sure I’m a sight for sore eyes. “Hopefully that’s the last of it. Let me know what I can do to help you.” His voice is soft, warm and so caring, making it easier for me to handle this hangover.
“Why can’t I remember anything at all? I only had a few sips of beer and that’s it. Heck, I’ll never drink alcohol again if this is how I’ll end up every time.” I seal my eyes tightly while pushing back another wave of nausea creeping from my gut.
“It’s okay, baby. Go back to bed and sleep it off some more. I’ll reschedule our flights for later today.” He accommodates my bad judgment of drinking and getting drunk. God bless him for being so understanding. I return to bed and sleep until almost 10:00 a.m. There’s no way I’ll be able to fly in this condition. I feel awful that Carson had to rebook our flights for Chicago. Why do I keep screwing things up with him?
I eventually force myself out of bed to shower and dress. Amelia has hot tea and saltine crackers waiting for me. The warmth and citrus scent helps settles my jittery nerves and tummy. Amelia told me that Carson went back to his place to grab his travel bag, so we can leave from here when I’m capable.
“Carson is insanely into you, Lil. He was a spastic, hot mess when he couldn’t get ahold of you last night after you passed out. He kept a concerned vigil over you almost the entire night.” She rubs my back for me as she praises Carson for his Good Samaritan deeds.
“He is pretty awesome. So much that I sometimes think he’s too good to be true. Is that bad of me?” I share my insecurity with Amelia, seeking for reassurance.
“No, it just means that you’ve found a keeper. You better hold on tight to him. I’m sure he gets plenty of offers as handsome as he is,” she advises me seriously. She’s right. I’m sure he has no trouble finding willing woman.
“Lily, I’m sorry,” she adds while looking down at her hands.
“For what?” I curiously ask, not understanding her apology.
“I should’ve have taken you home instead of letting Richard go by himself. He promised me he would come back for me after he tucked you into bed. He convinced me that you’d be fine. I wanted some one-on-one time with Richard,” she continues to explain.
“Stop!” I put my hand up to pause her. “Don’t go there. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Whether I’m with you or Richard, does it really matter? I know I’m always in good hands.” I give her a reassuring smile. “Besides, I’d totally dump you for Carson any day, so it’s only fair you do the same to me,” I tease her. Her frown dissolves into a huge grin with my smartass remark.
Chapter 13
Carson Bradley
It’s been years since I’ve used commercial flights. Owen booked two business class tickets for Lil and me to fly to Chicago. Since she’s already bothered about my money, I think my private jet would just send her running away from me as fast as she can. I’ll tone everything down until I’m able to explain my enormous wealth to her. We’re permitted through security without any holdups, and I’m relieved because she still looks pale and frail to me. She hasn’t eaten much of anything, fearing she might get sick again on the airplane. With her condition, it would have been much more accommodating for us to fly privately, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m just glad that I won’t have to deal with the dreadful secret of my wealth after this trip. I hope to God that my money won’t change her mind about us. I’ve never been with anyone who isn’t fond of my money or what I can gift them.
As soon as she buckled her seatbelt, she pressed her head against my shoulder and wrapped her arms securely around mine. She seems oblivious to her fear of heights since her hangover is in the forefront. I wrap a blanket around her, and she seals her eyes shut. I still can’t get over how wasted she got from one beer. Something isn’t right to me, and I plan on finding out what it is, but I’m just too exhausted to pick my brain at the moment. We slept through the flight from St. Croix to Miami, connected to Chicago and slept through that flight as well. The sleep boosted our bodies with new energy just in time for an extended weekend of welcoming Lily to my world.
Chicago O’Hare International Airport is busy and packed full of enthusiastic travelers, business men and women as usual. Lil quickly stops at a gift shop to purchase a few postcards for her friends. I’m glad to see that she’s feeling better. I impatiently wait at the entrance of the shop, glancing at the passing minutes on my watch. Traveling is more of an annoyance for me than a treat like it is for most ordinary people. I should learn to slow down and appreciate the smaller luxuries in life through Lil.
For this trip, I asked Lily to pack light to avoid baggage claim and any other unnecessary delays. I’m tremendously selfish about our time together because it’s brief. I grab her carryon, and we fight our way to the exit through a large tour group, heading to Europe I guessing because of their Eiffel Tower sweatshirts. This hectic chaos is why I don’t miss public transportation. We finally scramble out of the terminal, and I flag down a speeding cab for us. “Water Tower Place Condos on 180 E. Pearson, please,” I direct the cab driver and help Lily in as he stows our bags in the trunk.
Lillian Ly
Wow, it’s been ages since I’ve been to Chicago. If I remember correctly, I was last here for an eighth grade field trip. We toured the enormous Field Museum, ate our packed lunches at Grant Park and took a class photo in front of the Buckingham Fountain. One of the so called popular boys purposely tripped poor Hayden and almost sent him over the edge of the fountain. All the kids except me teased and laughed at him. I remember consoling him because he was really upset, and he bought me a souvenir crystal from the museum gift shop for making him feel better.
Nothing has changed much as I stare out the cab window, looking at dominoes of skyscrapers and interweaved bridges and roads. The city is still overcrowded, full of busybodies and congested traffic. People run on one speed here, fast, unlike back on the island where speed is discouraged. It’s a no brainer why people choose to vacation there; they want to get away from the hustle and bustle of hectic, city life. I do, however enjoy the copious energy of a big city like this. There’s so much more culture and excitement to be discovered here. God forbid that anyone ever gets bored or hungry in Chicago with all the entertainment and restaurants available.
The cab pulls in front of a tall glass building. Carson hands him our cab fare and a generous tip, making him appreciatively surprised. The weather contrast from sizzling tropic to cold Midwest sends chills down my shivering spine. I’m only wearing a pair of jeans, brown suede boots and my I.U. hooded sweatshirt, while Carson is comfortably dressed in a black, mock-neck sweater, denim jeans and dark aviator sunglasses. It should be a sin to always be this handsome, breaking women’s hearts every day. I think as I stare at him.
I was asked to pack light which is a simple task for me since I’m not a typical woman with all the extras. He takes my small carryon, interlaces our hands, and we walk to the entrance together. The doorman, a young pale bearded gentleman, politely nods at us. “Mr. Bradley, welcome back. Will you be staying for the marathon?” he courteously greets Carson by name.
“Thanks, Tyler. Unfortunately, I won’t be running this year. I have a worthy distraction who’s consuming all my time,” Carson replies with humor in his tone. He glides his lips across the back of my hand, acknowledging me as his distraction and flaunts his wry, dimpled smile. Gosh, I love seeing that flattering smile, knowing that it’s because of me this time.
I can’t be sure, but I swear I just saw a man snap a picture of us as we walked through t
he front doors. Carson is oblivious to it. Big cities are always full of crazy people, Emma used to tell me, but she still wanted us to live there anyways. I didn’t realize Carson lives here in Chicago. We really need to get to know each other better as soon as I’m able to stop tearing his clothes off every minute we’re alone. He’s the only man that makes my body respond like that. I hardly know anything about him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It makes me wonder if he has anything to hide from me.
The elevator intimidates me terribly. I feel like it’s anxiously waiting to launch me all the way up to the top of this high building. My fear of heights is being pushed to the limit as I cross from safely low to unsafely high. I silently persuade myself to breathe and remain calm, but it doesn’t work. I’m more terrified than ever as the doors close us in. I find myself clenching his hand tighter and tighter with the ascension of each floor. “Lil, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ll love the view once you see it,” he attempts to soothe my nerves while caressing my face with his free hand.
“It’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s deathly afraid of heights,” I counter with fear choking my voice.
He pulls me into his protective arms, hugging me closer to his chest. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
“I know.” I squeeze him, believing in my heart that he truly means it. The elevator finally stops, and we step out to the highest floor of this building. I want to brace myself against the center wall to avoid looking out to the open sky. I’ll be okay once I acclimate myself. I hope. This is the tallest building I’ve ever been in.
He pulls me down the hallway to his place. “Come on Lil, I’ve got you.”
Holy crap! This condo screams expensive. I think Oprah Winfrey owns one of these units. The only reason I know this fact is because my mother is a huge fan of hers. She watched her show every chance she had because she admired Oprah’s down to earth personality and generosity. “Carson, is this your place?” I think I’m hyperventilating as I wait for him to answer me. I can’t seem to catch my breath as my eyes rotate around this enormous space. “Please tell me that you don’t own this place,” I plead for my sake.