Shouldn't Have Asked: A New Adult Romantic Comedy Novel

by Mara Lynne

  Through my peripheral vision, I note Damien halting right in front of the door and taking a quick glance at me with a soft, amused smile on his face.

  I bury my face in my hands and wish I could give myself a knock on the head for acting totally head-over-heels over him. If it weren’t because of Ray leading me to discover these totally unwanted and disturbing feelings for him, I might not be as self-conscious as I am right now. I could have preserved a little composure.

  I stretch my legs and arms and yawn. I am really sleepy and exhausted. Not even the occasional cookies and fruit juices could keep me alive for eight hours. Now that the source of my uneasiness is temporarily gone, I think I could relax for a bit. My lungs have regained the freedom to breathe freely and my heart to slow down for a while.

  The sunset is inviting. I have always wanted to go outside and feel the breeze gently turning cold on my skin. There’s a glass door that connects the library to a tiny balcony that overlooks the garden. And so, I head there and excitedly cross it like some fairy who’s just gotten out of her flower house.

  It wasn’t only Damien who caught my attention for the past hours. There’s nature and the eagerness to be one with them. From time to time, I’d sneak a peek outside to unwind and relax my strained eyes.

  I feel the grass smoothly brush the soles of my feet. I left my doll shoes at the balcony and hurriedly run towards the lawn.

  I wonder how long it will take for the sun to completely vanish behind the mountains. There I see the moon slowly coming out and stars appearing, outnumbering the number of city lights on the horizon.

  Realizing that Damien won’t be arriving any sooner, I decide to stay outside for a while and watch the sky manifest something spectacular. Throughout the day, I’ve only seen the blinking cursor on my computer and the several letters and words that don’t even pique my interest. I want to see something majestic other than the books— and maybe Damien.

  Feeling under me the softness of what seemed to be a huge feathered pillow and the sleekness of cotton and satin, I groggily open my eyes.

  I HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP!

  I turn to my left, and the sleepiness fades away in the speed of light when I recognize Damien sleeping like a baby beside me.

  Just where am I?

  It doesn’t look like we’re in his bedroom. I could still distinguish the high shelves of books, the gigantic staircase, and the huge window in which the velvet drapes are raised high to showcase the unique splendor of night time. We’re still in the library.

  I must have fallen asleep in the garden while watching the sky and waiting for Damien. Most probably he’d seen me there, and by virtue of his uncommon gentleman-like conduct, he carried me back inside to the round resting couch just sitting near the fireside.

  It isn’t cold nor is it too dark. The chandeliers aren’t lighted, but the fire in the hearth keeps the entire library from being entirely engulfed by the darkness and cold.

  Damien is peacefully sleeping beside me. He must be very tired, and I don’t think even tapping him would wake him up.

  He does look so calm and peaceful. For a moment, I thought this night could have gone in a completely different direction if the Damien I am with was the same person as that one night in his apartment. But he’s not that man anymore, or so I am led to believe.

  I like this kind of Damien.

  I like the sleeping Damien, the calm and silent one… the one who can’t twist my stomach and obscure my thoughts unlike the awake and smiling Damien. This way, I can perfectly contain my sanity.

  But he won’t be sleeping forever. He’d awaken soon, and soon enough he’d flash that beguiling smile and smooth talk me, and my mentality would collapse again. This peace won’t last long, so I better use this to my advantage.

  Get the perfect image of this Damien.

  Memorize how he looks with eyes closed, with expression blunt but innocent as a small boy, and listen to the rhythm his breathing makes.

  Raising my fingers altogether, I silently reach for him. Moving to my left side and leaning over close to him, I take a clearer view of the serene Damien.

  Should I or should I not?

  My fingers feel cold as they near Damien’s face despite the warmth the hearth is emitting. I’m not nervous. How can I be when he can’t even see me? How can I feel threatened when Damien doesn’t know I am planning on touching him? He will not even know about this.

  Gradually, my trembling fingers touch the tip of his nose.

  It isn’t that bad after all. He won’t know.

  It is amusing to see his face move while I run my index finger along the bridge of his nose, to his eyebrows, then back to his nose again until I find myself wanting to touch his lips.

  Should I or should I not?

  He won’t even know, I tell myself.

  But there is something more to it. Touching his lips is a bad idea, after all, I thought after wanting more than just touching them.

  Damien has done it, freely and wilfully, so why can’t I?

  His lips feel really soft and warm, and I feel like wanting to taste them. This time, I want to do it on my accord. Not that I’m curious, but I want to do it because I want to.

  I want to feel his lips on mine without surprises, without force or denial but only wanting, desire, and expectations

  He won’t know.

  I lean over, close my eyes, and slowly planted my lips on his.

  I am not mistaken. His lips are really smooth, and I can melt into this feeling for a long time until I feel like stopping… until he tells me to stop.

  As I run out of air, I slowly pull back. The waves of my hair fall down the side of my neck and shoulder, touching the side of his face. And when I open my eyes, I see two stupefied gray eyes, glaring at me, swarmed with questions but not repugnance.

  We stare at each other, none of us moving. I feel my chest heaving for air. It has never been this tight.

  Damien has awakened. He’s just caught me again. This time not just stealing glances.

  Chapter 23: Gray and Dull

  Damien leans over, eases himself up into a sitting position, and gawks at my ashen white face. He studies me like how a newborn watches his mother with total curiosity and wonder.

  There’s no use of hiding, I am already exposed — my bare face entirely blazing with trails of fire everywhere.

  Oh, God, what did I just do?

  His arm lands across my waist to support me in case I fall back into the couch. Not a very good idea since it renders me helpless.

  I hear my heart hammer against my chest, screaming for a way out, exhausted for always being the victim of denial. I lost the strength, the energy, and even the confidence to stay away from him. Not after what I did a while ago, and with him this close to me again. The only logical way to react to this is to climb off the couch and pretend that I was dreaming when I did it.

  But before my brain cells can begin to look for an escape, Damien has already trapped me with his lips crashing into mine. The unexpected connection emits electrifying current from where his mouth is to my limbs and deep down into my stomach that I can no longer distinguish if it’s air in there or just simply the growling of a hungry stomach. He isn’t kissing me like a wild beast would. Damien is as gentle as I was when I kissed him like a graceful ballerina carefully tiptoeing at the beat of the music. And it’s the gentleness that compels me to not stop him from doing what he’s doing.

  I know I shouldn’t have lost myself there.

  I know I should have fought the temptation to feel those lips on mine. I know what I did was wrong.

  But it feels so wonderful, I can’t blame myself for enjoying it and at the same time want more of it.

  As the kiss breaks, I find myself shyly and gauchely gasping for air. I feel like I’m at the edge of the cliff about to fall, but with Damien behind me ready anytime to hoist me up.

  Our noses brush each other briefly, our foreheads touch, and with one quick look, his mouth curves wi
th contentment.

  “That wasn’t hard, was it, Angel?” he asks, still holding my face with his hand.

  My throat dries as I feel him kiss me on the forehead. It’s only Dad who does this to me, and now him.

  “My Angel,” he whispers, smiling, with both his hands cupping my face and his fingers caressing my cheeks, assuring me that I am already his.

  Our travel back to the city seemed to be dreadfully long. Neither one of us was speaking. The sound of horns and screeching tires became my companion for an hour. The traffic jam near downtown area made it worse. I didn’t even dare move to my left as I was afraid Damien would start a conversation. There’s nothing much different between riding the car this morning and tonight. An awkward silence fills us, and endless sighing indicates that both of us are expecting something nicer to happen before the night ends. I have no idea if Damien likes this gap between us, but he isn’t doing anything to alleviate the situation.

  Honestly, I am a little disappointed. Where is the loud and playful Damien Etheridge when highly needed? I want him to appear and just knock this deafening silence away. This is the best time to annoy me with his mischievous remarks.

  When we finally reach home, his car pulls up right in front of our gate. I quickly loosen my seatbelt and open the door before Damien could walk out of the driver seat and open the door for me. Yes, I’m a little flushed and dazed after what happened in his library, but I am not completely incapacitated.

  “Thank you for the ride home,” I utter in one quick sentence without even meeting his eyes.

  “Angel?” His voice has this power to seize attention. He goes on, “We can’t always be like this. I understand you, believe me, I do. And I won’t force you to accept changes right away, but always remember that nothing in this world can make me stay away from you. And I hope you do the same for me.”

  It’s crystal clear. Damien wants to be part of my life, and he wants me to let him in.

  His footsteps close in on me, and the hair on my arms stand as his touch rest on my elbow. He spins me around so I face him eye to eye.

  “You know I like you, and I want you.” His eyes undoubtedly speak of that. “I always fight for what I want, Angel. I will fight for you even if you keep on sending me away. I know I’ve been an ass, a terrible one, but I won’t be that ass anymore just for you. You’re different, and you deserve none of that craziness. Here’s the truth…” he trails off and breathes deeply.

  “I’ve only been doing those things because I want you to see me, feel me, or even acknowledge the fact that I am totally head-over-heels for you. Please don’t ask me how it happened because I honestly don’t know. It’s a surreal thing, but I can’t make it stop. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop liking you. I can’t stop falling for you. I just can’t, and please don’t cut this pleasure of liking you, Angel. Please be a little considerate of me. I can wait. Just tell me when you’re ready to open that door for me, I will be waiting.” He bends a little and pecks my cheek.

  “So how’s your day at Damien’s house?” Mom asks while tailing me from behind as I climb up the stairs. By the sound of her voice, she must be nothing but thrilled for all the reason I know.

  “It was fine,” I answer wryly, with no intention of disclosing a thing to her. “We’re almost done.”

  “Wow, that’s great!” She places her hands against the door when I try to close it on her face. “You and him make a really good partner.”

  “He’s almost done even before I was there, Mom.”

  “Then Damien must be really intelligent.”

  “He is.” I sigh. “Now, can I go to bed?”

  “Of course, sweetie.” She smiles at me before I close the door. She must know something at the back of her mind. Mom wouldn’t just let me go like that. She’s super adamant, but today, she let me off the hook so easily.

  Horror strikes me when I see twelve missed calls flashing on the screen of my phone. Five came from Mom and seven from Ray. There are sixteen text messages too, and the majority came from Ray. He must be fuming with anger and craze-driven by curiosity at the moment.

  Taking a deep breath, I call Ray back.

  “Angel?” His voice is as loud as a trumpet.

  “I’m sorry, Ray. I didn’t have the time to check on my ph—”

  “Your mother called me many times asking me if I can reach you by call,” he interjects. She’s worried that you’re not answering your phone. She said you were with Damien… in his house!”

  “I was. Haynes, remember?”

  “Yes, but how much of an effort is it to answer a phone call, Angel?” He sounds really pissed.

  “We were so busy, we lost track of time.” I didn’t have to say I fell asleep and Damien carried me to the couch, and when I woke up it was already late with Damien sleeping beside me. And most especially not the part where I kissed him.

  “Heartless! You don’t know how I distraught I was when I found out Damien’s going to your house to pick you up. Now, that’s definitely a development,” he blabbers. “Of course, I expect you won’t single out one detail, will you? I definitely need to know what happened.”

  Climbing on the bed, I bury myself under the blanket and let the fire within me dissipate. Apparently, the ghost of Damien’s words and touch still haunts me, and whatever way I try to get rid of it, I seem to fail. Probably because I know I am the reason for my own downfall.

  One single crazy act exposed everything about me, and now he’s got his eyes on me, his expectations raising the mental and emotional pressure and the truth threatening to make me surrender completely. Most of all, the way he reacted to what I said was so unlikely. He wasn’t killing me with his naughty and arrogant tirades. He was sweet, romantic, and gentle… so unlikely that I even thought for a second if he wasn’t really the Damien Etheridge I know.

  Even though I missed the devilish Damien, the ‘new and reformed’ him still gets on my nerves in a spine-chilling and emotionally twisting way. This is even deadlier, I guess. If he goes on like this, acting like a knight in love, there’s no way I’d be able to resist his oozing charm. I’m afraid I’m on my way to doom.

  “It’s all paperwork, Rye,” I lie.

  “Well, that’s boring!”

  “And exhausting too!” I remark.

  “But I think you’re hiding something from me.”

  Lying on my back, I gulp for air.

  “I’m not dumb, Angel. Come on, spill it out.”

  “Ray, you’ll be the first one to know if ever there is progress.”

  “And there wasn’t? This is so unlike you,” he says. “You want me to tell you what I think? I think you’re lying. I know you very well, Angel Mohr. When Damien gets into you, you complain. When you get in trouble with him, you complain. You complain when it’s about that man. Now, tell me, where is that part now?”

  “I don’t complain all the time.”

  “Tell me one time you didn’t!”

  I honestly couldn’t think of anything.

  “Can we talk about this at work tomorrow? I’m already sleepy. I’m half-awake now.” I manage to form a reserved smile.

  “Then tomorrow it is!”

  But I don’t intend to sleep yet. I don’t even think I could doze off after thoughts of him swarm in my head.

  What got into me to even do it?

  Now I lost all my courage to tell my best friend about it.

  I begin to wonder about Damien being serious with what he told me. I’m just not used to this side of him. I don’t even know how to handle his good side. What I am afraid most is when I become too relaxed, I’d find out I’m already on the same page of the book as he is.

  That would be a lot of trouble.

  The next day, Damien comes again to pick me up. There aren’t many questions from Mom and Dad, so I am relieved that I won’t have to lie all over again. We stay in his house for the rest of the morning, polishing what needs to be polished in the research paper. I’m not sur
prised when he showed me the complete draft once we arrived in the library. Perhaps, when I got home last night, Damien finished off everything.

  “Haynes wants to see the results this afternoon. He’s expecting us in his office, Angel,” he says.

  The earlier I get out of this, the better, I thought.

  By four in the afternoon, the project is as real as a printed manuscript in leather binding. Haynes looks at the manuscript with tears threatening to burst out of his eyes anytime. However, I seem to notice a little doubt in them. He’s asked Damien to get a copy of a certain thesis paper in the library as quickly as he could because he wants to check if we weren’t plagiarizing someone else’s work.

  Damn this old man! Damien looked really pissed before he left for the library, and with that look on his face, I know he wanted to punch Haynes in the face.

  “Didn’t think you’d finish this in two days. A job worth a year completed in two days, I’d laugh hard when this turns out to be a joke.” Haynes leans against the back of his swivel chair, his fingers interlaced together, smirking and glaring at me.

  “Sorry for bluntly answering you, sir, but it is too unfair to us if you quickly judge it and say we plagiarized. You haven’t entirely read the paper, you judged it right away.” I don’t think it’s fair to put Damien’s brilliance into the trash. He’s worked for this day and night.

  “I will have time for that,” he says in his guttural voice. “At this moment, I feel you’ve failed me. It’s just too sad to see you two fail when I expected a lot more from you.”

  It sounds like the deal is off. I wish Damien comes back now so he can rescue both our future. Maybe he can smooth talk Haynes, and all will be well.

  “If you’re not content with that one, we can always revise it, Mr. Haynes. There’s plenty of time,” I answer, my eyes straight on the door, anticipating Damien’s appearance.

  He chuckles, shaking his head while massaging his forehead with his fingertips.

  “Damien and I can work at it again. It’ll be ready by next week in time for graduation,” I continue.