Fiona was enjoying herself, and hadn’t even noticed Nicole out on the lawn. Fontenot had. He hid it well, but I saw him walking to the window periodically, contemplating a way to talk to her without causing a scene.
While we cut our cake and took pictures, he saw his opportunity and slipped out the door. Fiona had completely commandeered my party, making it all about her. I kept waiting for her to thank my parents or me, but the words never came out of her mouth. The joint cake was “her cake.” The combined decorations were “her decorations.”
I took a breath and told myself to ride it out. This wasn’t who she was, but who’d she’d become. My Fiona was stuck back in time, still nervous and shy, unsure of her abilities. A few years ago, this Fiona took her place. I’d never see the girl I’d loved and needed again. Our time was coming to an end.
I was dutifully opening presents, reading every card and word of encouragement. My parents opted to give me a check instead of a present, as did most of my other guests. Only a few presents littered the table.
One was from Marlowe, a brand new set of brushes and paints. Another was from Nicole. Since she was outside, and I wanted to keep her there, I quietly opened it, and found coasters with crude words and pictures plastered on them. Chuckling, I discreetly put them back in the bag. She and Fontenot might just be meant for each other.
The last bag was unlabeled. Inside was a neatly wrapped picture frame. Once the tissue paper was discarded, I flipped the frame over and gasped.
It was a picture of one of my paintings. On a wall. In an art gallery.
Paul came to my side, placing a hand at my waist. “Catherine got it into her friend’s show,” he said. “She wanted to tell you, but I told her to keep it a surprise. It’s not a big showing, but hardly any local artists were picked.”
“Paul,” I said, tears filling my eyes. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. This was amazing. The greatest gift anyone could give me. I put the picture down and didn’t care about anyone standing around me. I kissed him. Paul let me, but felt uncomfortable with my family’s eyes boring into us.
My father loudly cleared his throat, and I pulled away. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“It was nothing,” he said with his lopsided grin. That smile nestled into my heart. So shy and vulnerable. It was my smile—the one he gave only to me.
“It was everything,” I said. This time, he kissed me. Just a small peck on the tip of my nose, but he quickly pulled away, eying my father across the room.
“What’s this?” Fiona said, picking up the picture.
“Paul’s present to me. He got one of my paintings into a gallery.”
She frowned. “Which gallery?”
I didn’t even know and looked to Paul for clarification.
“It’s at the Gordon Gallery. Over on Highland across from the wildlife museum.”
Her lips pulled to the side in an annoyed purse. “Mmph. Well, it’s okay, I guess.” She put the picture down and stepped away. Under her breath I heard the words, “At least I get into galleries on my own.”
Too distracted with my joyful bliss, I didn’t notice her walking towards the front door until it was too late.
“Paul,” I frantically whispered. “Nicole’s out there.”
“Okay?”
“And Fiona’s going out there, too!”
“I don’t understand.”
I huffed and went after her, forgetting I’d never even told Paul about Fontenot’s interest in Nicole.
Cautiously, I surveyed the lawn, looking for any signs of an altercation. But there wasn’t one. Fiona stood stoically on the edge of the porch, looking out into the driveway. Nicole was getting into her car, the door open and Fontenot resting against it. They were smiling at each other, their laughter echoing back to us.
“Why is she here?” she asked when I stood beside her.
For some reason, I’d never envisioned this outcome—Fiona, visibly hurt, asking me why I’d invited Nicole to my graduation party. I felt selfish and mean.
Ready to confess all my knowledge of them, I took a breath, but Fiona inhaled, sharp and painful. My eyes went back to the driveway.
Nicole had placed a hand on Fontenot’s shoulder, a friendly gesture, but it had Fiona seeing red. She stormed off the porch and marched over. Quickly, I followed her.
“What the fuck?” she yelled, and Fontenot took a protective stance in front of Nicole.
“Chill the hell out Fiona,” he said. “I’m just talking to her.”
“Back up bitch,” she said to Nicole, who pulled a confused face.
“Umm…who are you?”
“I’m his girlfriend!”
“Oh, please,” Fontenot muttered.
“Okay…” Nicole said. “Well, we’re just talking. Take it down a notch.”
“Take it down a notch?” Fiona said. I saw the aggressive set of her arms and readied myself to stand between them. I was half a second too late and Fiona lunged at her. The car door and Fontenot did a good job of keeping Nicole protected, but Fiona was able to land at least one good scratch. The obscenities flowing out of her mouth made my face heat with embarrassment. Children were here—some of them looking directly at us.
I grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Stop it,” I said under my breath. “You look like a crazy person.”
Nicole was holding her cheek, rubbing the sting out, but then decided the whole thing was too much trouble. “I’m out of here,” she said. “Fontenot, you’ve been cool to hang out with, but don’t call me again.”
I had Fiona by the arms, her curses still freely flowing, but she saw the exchange between Nicole and Fontenot.
“Wait,” he pleaded, looking visibly distressed. “Let me come by tonight.”
“Asshole!” Fiona screamed.
Nicole had looked thoughtful until Fiona’s ear-piercing screech rang across the lawn. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Looks like you still need to get your shit together.”
Nicole closed her door and drove away. Only then did I let Fiona go. She pushed my chest causing me to stumble. Paul caught me, and then immediately put me behind him.
“What the hell is happening?” Paul asked.
“Why did you invite her?” Fiona asked Fontenot, tears filling her eyes.
“I didn’t!” he said. “But who cares if I did, because, this, you and I, it’s done. Over. We agreed it was just for fun. Well, this shit ain’t fun anymore.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, suddenly distraught as Fontenot walked to his car.
“I’m gonna try and talk to Nicole,” he said.
I shut my eyes for an extra-long time. It made sense now. At least I thought it did. Fontenot was in love with her. In his own twisted way. Fiona truly had been just a toy to him. She didn’t see it yet and ran to him, ready to beg and plead.
“No,” he said, waving her away. “I’m done.” Without letting her say a word, he got in his car and sped away.
Fiona turned back to me, malice in her eyes. “You invited her,” she accused. “What the fuck? We’re supposed to be friends.”
“She’s my friend, too,” I responded meekly, guilt washing over me. “I’m sorry. I…I should have told you.” Most of my guests were politely ignoring us, but this conversation still should be held in private. “Let’s go inside,” I suggested.
“Fuck you, you spoiled little cun—”
The derogatory slur never made it out of her mouth. Paul grabbed her by the arm, and was immediately in her face. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he said through gritted teeth. Even I shivered, not expecting him to sound so intimidating.
“Whatever,” she huffed and threw his hand away. “But your little princess is a conniving bitch.”
He let that insult go and Fiona stormed past me. A heavy weight pressed into my shoulders. I was a horrible person, too concerned with knocking her down a peg to see how bad this would make her feel.
“This is my fault,” I said.
“Did
you know this would happen?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Not exactly. But I knew it wouldn’t be pretty.”
He sighed and looked down at me. Was it disappointment in his eyes? When I touched his waist, I half expected him to pull away, but he didn’t.
“It’s better she knows,” he said, putting an arm around me. “You could have handled it differently, but it’s done now.” He leaned in close, putting his mouth at my ear. “Between you and me, she deserved it.”
“Does she?” I asked, not sure if I believed him.
“I’ll tell you about it later.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
FIONA LEFT IN A huff and most of her friends joined her, giving me mean scowls as they departed. I tried to push it out of my mind and enjoy the rest of my party, but it was difficult.
My parents acted oblivious to the ordeal, but were no strangers to quarrels being exchanged on their front lawn. Just last year, Marlowe, Lucas, and his ex, Candace, had a heated argument during my father’s birthday celebration. At least I hadn’t invited her today.
But after Lucas cut her out of his life, she cut herself out of mine, wanting nothing to do with me. It was probably a good thing. Candace had a flair for the dramatics and was always finding ways to sabotage my brother’s happiness.
He and Marlowe were cuddling on my parent’s couch, their faces close. The smiles between them were loving and sweet. It took Marlowe stepping into his life to show him he deserved someone better than Candace. Maybe Nicole would help Fontenot. Maybe she’d teach him not to be such a douche, but that was unlikely.
It was getting late, and I was ready to leave. Paul had promised I’d have him for the entire weekend. Eager to hold him to it, I found him in the kitchen talking to my father. Their conversation was going well and I hated to disturb them, but I was tired and wanting nothing more than to curl into bed with him.
I cleared my throat, smiling at both of them.
“Hey,” Paul said walking over to me.
“Are you ready to leave?”
“Whatever you want,” he said.
I nodded. We said our goodbyes and my father held me for an extra-long time. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered, his eyes glistening as he pulled away.
“Thank you.” I kissed him on the cheek and left before he made me emotional.
In his car, Paul put a hand on my leg, resting it high on my thigh. I sighed at the intimate touch. “You look amazing in this dress,” he said. “Do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you all day?”
It was funny really. What would he have done if we were alone anyway? If his no sex rule was still in play, it wouldn’t have been much more than this. Wanting to toy with him, I took his hand and pushed it further up my leg. His inhale was sharp, but he only responded with a firm squeeze before releasing me.
“Tease,” I said.
He chuckled. “I’m trying to drive. My hand up your dress is too much of a distraction.”
“True. Dad seems to be opening up a little.”
Paul tilted his head. “Maybe. He just found out how old I am. Can’t say he was happy to hear it.”
“Oh, please. I’m positive he’s that much older than my mother. Or close at least. He’s being a hypocrite.”
“Still.”
“Does it bother you that I’m so much younger?”
He smiled sweetly. “No, Pretty. It doesn’t bother me.”
I grinned. “Your present was amazing. Thank you again.”
“It wasn’t hard to get it into the show. Catherine thinks more people will want to buy your work now.”
It was a pleasant thought, but my mind drifted to Fiona. I was grateful I didn’t have to be home with her tonight. “What did you want to tell me?” I asked. “About Fiona. Why did she deserve this today?”
He took a deep breath, working out how to say it.
“Well, it…uh…it happened a few days after I met her.”
Already I felt angry tension rising up my neck. He didn’t have to finish that thought. I already knew what she’d done. “Yeah…”
“She, umm, she propositioned me.”
“How?” I asked, unable to hide my frustration.
His hand came back to my leg as he continued. “That morning I’d waited for you in your kitchen, she asked me where I worked. I told her, not thinking anything of it, but then she just showed up one day. Came right into my office and said you were at work and the apartment was empty.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because! I didn’t go with her. I didn’t even consider it, and it seemed like she was just being cruel and jealous. She wanted to hurt you and I refused to let her. I don’t care what Fontenot or you did to her. She deserves everything she got today. There hasn’t been a time I’ve seen her that she hasn’t made some raunchy pass at me. She’s the fucked up friend, not the other way around.”
It wasn’t like I hadn’t expected this. I even knew she was doing it some of the time. She wasn’t subtle. “It only makes me feel a little better,” I said. “She’s been this way for years, and I knew she would do it with you, too. I’m just glad you didn’t take her up on it.”
Paul shook his head. “Pretty…she is nothing compared to you. There is no way I’d toss you aside for a something like that.”
I took a frustrated breath. “Hopefully, I’ll find another place to live. But I have to get a job first.”
“You’ll find one,” he said. “I know you will.”
I wished I had his confidence.
It was dark when we made it to his house and my body heated as we climbed the stairs. What his mind was thinking was anybody’s guess, but I had only one thought in mine.
We were alone. All night. No work. No stress. Just him. And me.
As we walked into his room, he immediately began removing his tie and I walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge. I kicked off my shoes and hiked my dress up to my thighs.
Paul saw me in the mirror and stilled.
“Come here,” I told him, reaching a hand out. “I’ve missed you.”
He hesitated, but walked over. His hands settled on my legs but his eyes looked troubled, working out an inner turmoil. To calm him, I brought my mouth to his and fell into the kiss, letting everything else go. While our lips moved, I brought my hand to his shirt and delicately undid the buttons. I pulled the dress shirt down his arms and sighed when my hands reached into his undershirt to feel his stomach. I grazed up and down, needing to touch every inch of his skin.
He pulled me into him and forced me up the bed, laying his body flush with mine. The weight of him was sending me into a frenzy. Slow, calm breaths left me as I attempted to settle my impatient body.
His hand found the edge of my panties and toyed with them. It was teasing gesture, pulling them down my hip, but not completely off.
“Please,” I whispered. “I want you.”
His face was cautious, fighting some perceived battle between what he wanted and what he thought he should want. While he was still weak, I brought my hand to his pants and gave him a squeeze. So far, I’d only felt him, but was eager to know what he looked like. My mouth coaxed him, distracting him with tongue and lips as I deftly unbuckled his pants. Caught up in the moment, he kicked them off and grabbed my dress, pulling it over my head. Yes. Please. Yes. I hadn’t been wearing a bra and Paul buried his face into my chest.
Only one piece of clothing stood in our way.
Determined to have him, pent up and greedy, I rolled him over and straddled his waist. His thin boxers left little to the imagination and I slowly grinded against him. He held me close, raising his hips to meet me. The aggressive tug he had on my panties was sure to snap them, but he never followed through, unwilling to rid me of them. When I moved to take them off myself, he threw his hands up.
“Wait!” he said, out of breath. “Wait. Not yet, okay.”
This made no sense. He was always right there with me, but would pull back at the las
t second. “Why not? And don’t say that it’s because it will complicate things. What’s the real reason?”
“I just don’t understand why we can’t wait a little longer.” His hands rubbing up and down my waist were meant to be soothing.
I didn’t say anything. There was something else besides this desire to wait. His honest eyes couldn’t hide it. He was afraid of something. Growing uncomfortable under my stare, Paul continued.
“Baby, I do want you. It’s not that. It’s just…” He sighed, looking away from me. “What if I move, Mia? What if I leave?”
I sucked in a breath. “Are you?”
“Nothing is decided.” He leaned into me and put his forehead against mine. “I don’t know what will happen, but I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not like Fontenot. I can’t take that from you and then disappear.”
“Does that mean if you move, that we’ll…Are you thinking about breaking up with me?” My eyes watered at the thought.
“No! Not in the slightest. But so much is about to happen. For both of us. What if you have to move to find a job? What if I move to Florida? Would you come with me? Would I be able to come with you? I can’t stand the thought of leaving you. But I’m…I’m scared, Mia. Because I don’t have any answers, and I don’t want to be like him. You deserve so much better.”
“You aren’t like him,” I whispered. “You could never be like him. And I want you. I don’t care what might happen.”
“I do,” he said. “I can’t hurt you.”
“Then don’t.”
He released a pained breath. “This is new for me. I’ve never felt this…deeply for someone. It’s important to me that I do it right. Give me just a little longer. Please.”
I didn’t know how to feel. He was being sweet, thinking of my future heartache and possible pain, but he was also being ridiculous. No one ever knew what might happen. It felt like he was hanging our relationship on a few decisions. What was he really afraid of? Hurting me? Or being hurt?
“Do you want to be with me?”
“Of course, Pretty. I want to be with you.”
Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3) Page 11