Starry Eyed Inside

by Rochelle Allison

  "Yeah, back there. But don't change the subject."

  A rich, ruby red bandage dress caught my eye. "This would look pretty against your hair," I murmured, gently plucking it from the rack.

  Teigan held it to her body, nodding. "Okay, this is nice! I'll try it on. Anyway, back to Skyler. You're still making the poor guy wait?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, Teigan. 'Poor guy' he is not. He gets plenty of action."

  Which he totally did. Letting him touch me that one Wednesday night had completely changed the nature of our making out. We still touched and kissed, but things progressed rather quickly, and now we used our mouths to make each other come.

  "Yeah, I guess he does." Teigan snickered. She loved details, and if I'd had enough of her silly rum n' coke, I usually ended up giving them to her. "So you're going to seduce him on Christmas Eve."

  "More like give in to him. To us."

  "You're such a romantic," she groaned. "We need to find you a Cinderella dress."

  "Ew, Teigan, no."

  "What about that one?"

  Strapless and short, the dress was pink and gray with a flouncy, flared skirt. A deep pink sash with an off-center bow cinched the middle. Normally, I wasn't a huge lover of pink, but this dress was sexy and sweet.

  Teigan smirked at my expression. “Oh, yeah. That's the one.”

  “I don't know,” I said, peeking at the price tag. I'd have to work overtime to pay for it.

  But Teigan had already snagged the sales associate lurking nearby. "Excuse me, my friend would like to try this one on. Please."

  Fifteen minutes later, I left with my dream dress and rather substantial hole in my checking account.

  Connect the Dots

  There was something soothing about the mindlessness of kneading dough, and I often found myself in la-la land while working alongside my mother. At the moment, we were making sourdough bread for Christmas morning, just two days away.

  "You just about done, there?" Mom asked.

  Snapping out of my reverie, I glanced at my hands. “Uh, yeah.”

  She motioned for me to let go of the dough and then took over. What my mother lacked in culinary skill she more than made up for in baking. She'd spent most of winter break joyously slaving away, making cookies and Amish friendship bread to give as gifts.

  While she got the loaves in the oven, I hurriedly wiped down the counters and loaded the dishwasher. Niki and I needed to make a last-minute run to the mall and I was still covered in flour.

  "Thanks, honey," Mom said, yawning against the back of her hand.

  "No problem. You should go take a nap."

  "As soon as these are out of the oven, I will,” she promised. “Are you still picking up Niki?”

  “Yeah, I'm gonna get ready now and go."

  "Be careful out there," she said. "People are crazy at this time of year."

  I loved the holidays, unabashedly. At the bookstore, I heard it all—both the excitement and the cynicism—and while a part of me understood the latter, I most definitely felt the former. Christmas had always been a special time for my family, full of warmth and food and togetherness. Really good vibes. I knew it wasn't that way for everyone, and in that regard I felt lucky.

  "What about this one?" Niki shoved her wrist underneath my nose.

  I grimaced, caught between a sneeze and a headache. Talk about sensory overload—if I smelled one more lotion, I'd hurl. “They all smell like yogurt.” Looked like it, too.

  “Rory.”

  “For you or Luz?"

  "Me!” She wrinkled her nose. “I already bought Mama's perfume; she wears the same stuff year in and year out."

  I took another sniff. “This kinda smells like the first one you picked out."

  "Really?" Niki held both bottles of lotion in her hand, her eyes flickering from one to the other.

  "Just get both," I suggested, desperate. "They're on sale, anyway."

  "I already bought three. This is just an extra."

  We'd been at the mall for about two hours. Body Love was supposed to be our last stop, but we'd been there for a small eternity because Niki couldn't decide between passion fruit mango and mango guava. "My feet hurt, Nik. I'm gonna go sit at Barry's awhile.”

  She mock-gasped. “Isn't that consorting with the competition?”

  Barry's was the mall bookstore. Like the Imaginarium, there was a small coffee bar inside, so I grabbed a latte and had a seat.

  "Can't stay away from bookstores, huh?"

  I'd have known that voice anywhere. Tristan stood in front of me, wearing the same gray hoodie he'd worn the night we met. It had faded a lot since then. My heart squeezed.

  I smiled up at him. "Hey, you."

  “How've you been?” he asked, his eyes shifting away before bouncing right back.

  Part of me wanted to give him a hug, but another part of me felt like it was still too soon. By the looks of how Tristan was standing, a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, maybe he felt the same.

  "I've been good," I said. "Busy. You?"

  "Busy.” He laughed then, and so did I, because wasn't that the truth. He was the busiest person I knew. "It's been all right, though. I'm heading out in about two weeks."

  "To England?" Duh, Rory. Where else?

  He nodded.

  "Wow," I said, biting my lip. "That was fast."

  "Not fast enough.” He chuckled, but it was rueful. He missed me, and that hurt worse than I thought it would. Looking away, I fingered the buttons on my phone. I still cared about Tristan, a lot. He'd been my first, and I was beginning to realize I'd always have love for him—even if it had evolved out of being in love.

  "Anyway, I just...I saw you here, and I thought I'd say hello, so... hi."

  "I'm so glad you did," I said, standing up. "I'm glad I got to see you before you left."

  "You too, Aurora.” His eyes swept over me. “You look good. Really good."

  I couldn't help it; I gave him a hug. He squeezed back for about a second and then let go, walking away before I could say anything else. My phone vibrated with a text; Niki was paying and would find me momentarily. When I looked up, Tristan had disappeared in to the crowd.

  Rattled, I dropped back into my chair. I had no regrets when it came to Tristan Becker—not the falling in love or out of it, but things were still messy. Not everything could be tied up with a neat bow.

  Niki found me minutes later, face flushed from rushing. "Ugh, the line in there was insane."

  "I know, I saw it before I left.” I stood, looping my bags through my arms. "So, you'll never guess who I saw."

  "Who?"

  "Tristan."

  Niki winced. "How did that go?"

  "A little awkward, but not all bad. I'm glad I got to see him before he left the country."

  "How'd he look?"

  I shrugged. "The same."

  She nodded, and we started walking toward the exit. "Do you think he still... like, misses you?"

  "Yeah, I do." I zipped my jacket, bracing myself for the cutting chill that had descended overnight. "I miss him, too. But whatever, you know? He'll probably have girls falling all over him over there."

  “They'll love his American accent.” She grinned, rubbing my back. “He'll be fine. He's doing what he's always wanted.”

  I needed to hear that. The icky feeling in the pit of my stomach dissolved. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. In fact...” Niki dug in to one of her shopping bags and tossed me a bottle of lotion. "I got you one, too."

  Unless I was about to eat it, I never wanted to see another cookie again. I stood and stretched, eyeing the piles of packages Mom and I'd just finished wrapping.

  "I'm going to bed," she said, already halfway to her bedroom. "Don't forget to lock up."

  "I won't. Night, Mom."

  "Night."

  Lights off and doors double-checked, I escaped to the sanctuary of my bedroom. Skyler had told me he was dropping Phoebe off at the movies,
and that he'd call me when he got home, so I assumed he was still caught up.

  I was in the tub when my phone rang from the bath mat. Wiping my hand on a towel, I snatched it up before it stopped ringing. “Hello, Skyler.”

  "Are you home?"

  "Yeah. I'm taking a bath."

  "That explains why you can't hear me at the window."

  I leaned forward to drain the water from the tub. "You could always call ahead, you know, like a normal person. I could just meet you at the door."

  "I like the illicit nature of sneaking in."

  "You just like reliving the glory days. Give me a minute; I'll be right out."

  My room was freezing: Dad always turned the heater off before going to bed. It made sense—Florida's winters were hardly brutal—but still. A little post-bath warmth would've been nice.

  "Looks like I had good timing," said Skyler, eyeing my towel as he climbed inside. Closing the window, he turned to me, running a finger down the droplets of water on my arm. "Naked and wet."

  "Not for long," I said, kissing him quickly. "Let me put something on; it's freezing."

  He yanked at my towel. "Nope."

  "My dad just went to sleep," I warned, not trying too hard to keep covered. He'd seen it all, anyway, bits and pieces here and there.

  "Don't you get tired of waiting?" he asked, pulling me to bed.

  “All the time.” I pushed him onto my bed and climbed astride, encouraged by the glint in his eye. “But it's worth it.”

  His hands settled on my hips, and we kissed until he began fiddling with my towel again.

  “We're not doing it here, with my parents like ten feet away.”

  He flicked his tongue at me, grinning.

  “Not doing that either,” I whispered, giving him one last kiss to hold him.

  "I got us a room," Skyler said, watching me hunt for clean pajamas. "For New Year's."

  "Okay," I said, rolling my eyes in amusement. "Where?"

  "The Inn at Tilton Place."

  “Ooh, I know where you're talking about!” I pulled on a t-shirt and turned around. “It's so classy looking.”

  "It's a bed and breakfast," he added, winking. The sex we'd never had, and wanted to, was our favorite inside joke.

  "Can't wait," I said, winking back. He thought he was so clever. Spending the night together could only mean one thing...little did he know I had big plans, myself. "I'm excited about tomorrow.”

  "Yeah, it should be fun. They always have a ton of free liquor and food at things like that."

  "And," I said pointedly, "I got a really nice dress."

  "Of course you did." He gave me a sidelong glance, smiling. "Can't wait to see you pretty in pink."

  "How'd you know I was wearing pink?" I huffed. "Did Teigan tell you?"

  "Please, Rory. You're the girliest girl I know.”

  "I am not!" I laughed, hitting him with a pillow.

  "I'm just messing with you." He chuckled. "Yes, Teigan told me. She wanted my tie to match your dress."

  "Oh." I nodded, liking that idea. “So did you get one?”

  “Yup.” He stood up, pulling me into a hug. “But I better go. Phoebe's movie gets out soon.”

  “Okay.”

  We kissed at the window, where he gave my butt a squeeze. I swatted him, but he only held tighter, burying his face in my neck. “Don't think I didn't see these lacy, little...pink...panties. They're pretty fucking girly, Rory.”

  And out the window he went, stealing another kiss.

  With the exception of military school photos, I'd never seen Skyler dressed up before.

  I stood like a goof in the doorway, taking in every aspect of how good he looked. His black suit fit like it was tailored, which it probably was, and his hair was long enough that he'd gelled it back like a 1920's playboy. My heart stuttered. His tie was a perfect match to my dress.

  He gazed appreciatively back; from the chignon Mom had twisted my hair into, to my dress, to the strappy, silver stilettos I'd borrowed from Teig. Putting his palm to my cheek, he dropped a kiss on the corner of my mouth. "You're perfect."

  "I love your suit.”

  "Thanks. It's probably the last time you'll see me in it."

  I laughed, punching his arm.

  My father emerged from the kitchen. “You two clean up well.”

  "Thanks, Mr. Shepherd, sir," Skyler said, shaking his hand. Mom had long given him permission to call her Jenny, but Dad had done no such thing. Typical.

  I indulged my mother's fussing and picture-taking for a few minutes before reminding her that we were going to be late if we didn't get going.

  "Call me if you drink too much," Dad grunted.

  “Um, okay?”

  "Just keeping it real," he said, smirking. Even my mom made a face at that one.

  "And that's our cue to leave," I said, shaking my head. "Bye, guys."

  Thanks to holiday traffic, getting to the party took longer than we anticipated. We wound slowly through the busy streets, listening to Christmas classics—my favorite; I loved Bing Crosby—and admiring the light displays. I texted Teigan once we hit the bridge, letting her know we were just a few minutes out.

  At the Marriott, Skyler relinquished his keys to the valet. "I really do like this," Skyler said, running his fingers down my arm as he looked at my dress. "A lot. What I really want to know is if it matches your pa—”

  "Finally!" Teigan cried, appearing at the door. "I can't even! It looks even better on!"

  "Thanks." I laughed, giving her a hug. "You look gorgeous."

  "I know, thanks." She smoothed the front of her dress. "You're not half bad yourself," she told Skyler.

  Rocco sauntered up with a cup in his hand, extra pep in his step. He and Teigan looked like they'd already gotten started. “Took you jokers long enough.”

  "Come on," said Teigan, pulling on me. "There's a live band."

  The party was just as I'd imagined, full of wealthy people our parents' age, dressed to the nines and acting like lushes. Pastries and hors d'oeuvres overflowed from fancy buffet tables, punctuated by sprigs of holly and poinsettia. The bar was epic, but because of our age, we were limited to stealing glasses of champagne whenever it passed by on a tray. Not that I minded: I loved champagne. I wanted to be lucid when I seduced Skyler, but dammit, that stuff tasted like happiness.

  Elodie and Jonathan introduced us to some of their friends, and for the rest of the evening, Teigan and I had older men asking us to dance, mostly for laughs. We danced with the boys, too, especially to the cozy, slow songs, but Skyler and Rocco were too goofy to be serious.

  By 11:00, I was all danced out. Switching gears, I sneaked over to the chocolate fondue I'd been visiting all night. I'd just eaten my weight in strawberries when Skyler joined me, stealing the last one off my plate. His carefully tamed hair had gone rogue again. “You ready to get out of here?”

  “Mhm.” I swallowed, wiping my hands on a cocktail napkin. “You?”

  His eyes took a brief detour to my cleavage. “Yeah, let's go.”

  Teigan spotted us coming and stood from her chair. She'd long taken off her shoes, complaining that they hurt her feet. I was about to do the same thing.

  "I think we're gonna go," I said, kissing her cheek.

  "Cool." She nodded, gesturing toward Rocco, who was deep in conversation with some old guy sporting a handlebar mustache. "Soon as he finishes up, we're leaving too."

  "'Kay."

  "Did you guys have fun?" she asked, giving Skyler a hug.

  "So much fun," I said. "I want chocolate fondue at my next birthday party.”

  "I'll keep that in mind," she said with a laugh. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

  Skyler drove leisurely back to Jensen Beach, one hand on my thigh, his thumb stroking back and forth. The streets were empty now, peaceful. We stopped at a light. "Am I bringing you home, or...?"

  "Not yet."

  He cut a sideways glance, smiling just enough to show a dimple. “So you're comin
g over?”

  “If that's all right,” I teased. “It's pretty late.”

  “I think I can handle it,” he said, squeezing my thigh.

  "I'm glad we came back here, actually," Skyler said, hanging his blazer on the couch. "I have something for you."

  “You knew all along we were coming back here,” I said, kicking off my shoes. “Don't lie.”

  “You got me all figured out, huh.” He tried to grab me, but I slipped past and down the hall, glancing back as I entered his bedroom.

  He joined me, loosening his tie. There was a predatory vibe beneath the playfulness, and I could only wonder what I looked like to him. Was there sex written on my face the way it was written on his? But before I could make any moves, he reached up onto one of his shelves and brought down a small, black velvet bag.

  Regardless of what it was, I knew I'd love it because it was from him. Trembling with nerves, the good kind, the best kind, I emptied the bag into my palm. It was a gold bracelet, delicate and lovely.

  "You don't really have any jewelry... none that I've seen, anyway, so... when I saw this, I thought it would be pretty on you..." he rambled, taking the bracelet from me and clasping it around my wrist.

  "I love it," I said, admiring how it shined even in the low light. "I love it. Thank you."

  "You sure it's okay? I—”

  I kissed him, tiptoeing so I could press as close as I wanted to, and he responded in kind, melting into me with a passion that set my already overheated body on fire. He tried to walk me over to the bed but I pulled away, pushing him onto it instead.

  He sat up on his elbows, head cocked as he watched me.

  "Happy Birthday, Skyler." I unzipped my dress, letting it fall to my feet with a quiet poof.

  Leaning forward, he guided me between his legs with a coy smile. “You know my birthday's in June.” His mouth closed around one nipple, and then the other, leaving them cold and wet and hard.

  Staring up at me, he got to work on unbuttoning his shirt. I leaned forward, kissing him and teasing him until he wrapped his hands around my waist and threw me onto the bed. "I love you," he whispered, covering me with his body, kissing me before I could respond. We kissed for a while, slow, open kisses that almost made it hard to breathe. I opened up a little more so he could really rest against me, but he slid his hand inside my underwear and touched me instead.