Waking Rory

by Elizabeth Jeannel

  The crowd had all but disappeared when she let out a long sigh and let go of my arm, sitting up. She held onto my hand, though, which I had to admit fit far too perfectly in mine for reason. I stood, pulling us up the aisle toward the exit.

  “Even, wait,” Rory breathed, grabbing my upper arm and pulling me to a stop. I was glad there was no one behind us.

  “Yeah?” I turned; she was fidgeting with the hem of her shirt again. That nervous tick of hers.

  “I am not ready to leave because…er…” She sighed, looking up at me for a moment, then back down at our entwined hands.

  “Because?”

  She swallowed audibly before looking back up at me again. No, not at me. At my lips, distinctively at my lips. There was a brief pause before her eyes drifted up to mine.

  I could have been wrong. I could totally have been seeing things. If that were the case, she had every right to stop me, or slap me, or whatever she saw fit. But I took that brief glance at my lips as an invitation.

  Her hand slipped from mine as I took a step toward her and slipped one hand around her waist, and the other at the nape of her neck. A gasp slipped from her lips, and I paused just long enough for her to pull away, say no, shove me off. But she didn’t.

  So, I kissed her, pulling her closer to me until there was no space between us. I heard a soft moan as she kissed me back. Her hands wrapped around my waist, and I felt them lock together. For one short moment, the world was ours, spinning into eternity. I didn’t care about where we were or where we had to be.

  Until I heard a male voice echoing toward us in French. Cue record scratch. We pulled away, both of us turning toward the sound of the voice. The lights had come back on, and he was in to clean up. Last showing of the night, it looked like from the sheer number of lights overhead.

  Rory giggled softly, covering her mouth, and took my hand. We headed toward the exit, Rory offering a soft apology over her shoulder before we were both laughing again. I couldn’t decide if the look on his face was because of the time, the fact that we’d just lingered in the theater, or that we were both girls, and I didn’t quite care.

  We were halfway to the car, where Henry had likely dozed off, when I pulled her back to me. She was still grinning, and when I looked down at her, her face grew suddenly serious. I pulled her to me and kissed her again. This time, it was the clearing of a throat that pulled us apart.

  The clearing of Henry’s throat.

  I looked up to find him standing by the open rear door. My throat was dry. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. If Nash found out about this… ugh, if Nash found out about me. I swallowed hard, struggling to find my voice.

  “Henry, I—”

  “It’s getting late, Even.” He smiled softly. No edge. No tension. He didn’t seem to mind the lateness for himself, but rather, he had a protective stance he seemed to develop whenever he took us places where he couldn’t follow and play bodyguard.

  I nodded, letting go of Rory’s hand as we rushed over toward the car.

  “Please don’t tell Nash about this,” I whispered to him just after Rory had climbed in.

  “I’m not sure it’s my place to.” He nodded, gently ushering for me to climb in.

  I did, sliding all the way over to where Rory was seated. I offered her a smile, which she returned, blushing as she did so. Her hand reached for mine, and I took it, feeling far more comfortable doing so than I should have. This wasn’t built to last, and I knew it.

  Chapter 19

  I started to live for the nights when Rory needed me, the ones where she’d find me before I went to bed, or when she slipped into my room in the night. She quieted my dreams. There was a rather specific comfort about her that kept all of my pain at bay, and it was terrifying.

  I hated depending on other people. When you depend on people, it’s easy to be hurt when they’re gone. Depending on others means the moment they leave, there’s a hole where they should be, and I had enough holes as it was.

  I didn’t say so, though, and I never turned her away. Despite knowing it would get me hurt, despite knowing I’d grow unreasonably attached, it was ridiculously hard to say no to something that just felt right.

  “Even, are you awake?” Her velvet voice called into the night.

  I was now. “Mhmmm.”

  “No, you are not.”

  She rolled over, facing away from me.

  “Yes, I am.” I sighed, pulling her closer to me. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded wordlessly.

  “Why are you awake, then?” I was awake now. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but until I was sure she was actually okay, there was no going back to sleep.

  “The dreams again.” She rolled back over in my arms.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  She stiffened. I thought she might pull away, rush from the room, shut me out. Maybe it was because I was holding her, I didn’t know. She sighed instead.

  “No, I…” She reached up and touched my face so softly it gave me goosebumps. “I only wanted this.”

  Her lips met mine, and then I was really awake.

  I felt my stomach get all fluttery as her hands wrapped around my face, pulling me in with no protest from me. I was careful to place my arms on her waist as she continued to caress my tongue with her own. She inched her way on top of me, and I was struggling with any logical means of stopping her.

  My heart was racing like it did any time she kissed me, especially as those kisses made their way across my jawline and down my neck to my collarbone. My breath became ragged as her hands brushed against my bare skin. She was making it harder and harder to say no, but I just wasn’t ready.

  She didn’t seem to mind just doing this, whatever this was. This kissing, cuddling, touching around the clothing thing she did when there was something serious she didn’t want to talk about. It was a distraction. I knew that. And I fell for it every time.

  Maybe I needed it, too. The distraction, the touch, the feeling of being wanted and needed. I knew even then it wouldn’t last forever. I knew it was temporary, but so were all the other highs I chased so religiously.

  Chapter 20

  Nash had been gone three and a half weeks. I didn’t care to text him. He hadn’t really checked up with me. He was having Autumn do it, and Henry saw me every day, too. Both of them would report back, so I had resolved to not tell them anything I didn’t have to.

  I didn’t know when Nash would be back, or why he was gone so long, but I was determined to keep my word. Stay out of trouble, do well at the internship, and even though falling in love with Rory wasn’t really on the agenda, I guess I was determined to do that, too.

  One day, things began to change.

  “Even,” Elaine said as she reached my tiny desk. “I have an important vendor meeting that has been rescheduled today, do you think you could take over for me at the committee meeting?”

  “Take over for you…” I breathed. “As in run it? As in, I’d be in charge?”

  “Yes, I know it’s short notice, but—”

  “I’m just an intern.”

  “And you’re the best intern. You’re the only person I trust to know what they’re doing on this. Please?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” I forced a smile, only reassured when Rory put her hand on mine as Elaine was walking away.

  “You’ll do great.” Rory smiled.

  The crazy part is I did do great. I’d only met a couple members in the committee, mostly because as much as they were called a “committee,” they were really just a bunch of McCoy executives who had to approve all of Elaine’s financial and design decisions and concur as a group the choices were right.

  No one seemed surprised to see me. I wasn’t exactly the face of McCoy Enterprises, but anyone who worked there knew my face and my name. I didn’t even have to speak French during the meeting, and nothing was vetoed.

  In fact, they loved our take on following the green initiative.

  At some point after that, I sto
pped being an intern. I mean, technically, I was still an intern, but Elaine stopped asking me to do things, and started having me make the decisions. I’d missed how it happened, but it felt like the roles were reversed. I was calling the shots. And somehow, it wasn’t as nerve-wracking as it should have been.

  Rory was still helping with all the plans. She was with me every day, at least when she wasn’t off chatting with Madam Caron.

  I didn’t have any experience planning a gala, but Rory did. It was a little crazy how much her opinion had begun influencing my decisions.

  “I just love parties.” Rory sighed, as we walked through an aisle of fabric table cloths we were trying to choose from. There were too many, plain and simple.

  “Oh yeah? Did you have a lot of them?”

  “Not a lot, but…” She paused, eyeing a white silk cloth pressed with flower designs. “When we did, they were grand like this.”

  I bit my lip, thinking through what I wanted to say carefully. I didn’t want to ask the wrong thing or make the wrong comment. This was the most she had talked about her life before the tower.

  “Did you have a fancy party planner like Elaine bringing them to life?” I asked finally.

  “No, it was my job.” She smiled.

  “What? Really?”

  She nodded. “One of the few things I was allowed. One of the few things that brought me joy, even though Airard was always there, always my dancing partner.”

  “How long had you been…” I sucked in a breath. “Nevermind.”

  “Betrothed? Since birth.”

  A silence set over us. I didn’t have a good response to that.

  “I really hated him,” she said finally. “I hated who he was. I hated the idea of him. I was never going to even like him, much less love him.”

  “And I’m guessing you didn’t have much of a choice.” I sighed.

  She shook her head for a moment before her eyes lit up and she dashed off, grabbing a sage green table cloth in front of us.

  “This is the one.” She grinned.

  Chapter 21

  The gala was one month away, and while I was happy with my notion to wear an off-the-rack gown from whatever department store was available in this part of the world, Rory was apparently not. After seeing the designer gowns several of the other girls were flaunting around the office, including Madam Caron, Rory had her heart set on something similar. I hated parties like this, but as it turned out, they were kind of her thing. Big shocker there.

  So, despite all the teeth-pulling, I followed Rory into a relatively small boutique Autumn had suggested. It wasn’t custom designer; with only three weeks, there was no time for custom anything. But it was definitely still designer.

  There was lace and tulle in every direction, and in far more colors than I ever could have imagined fabric could come in. Gowns of so many sizes, shapes, and cuts. Mirrors lined the back near a narrow set of fitting rooms. Rory was in heaven, and this was my nightmare.

  Rory went first, mostly because she was picky, but also because I thought it would be nice for us to match. Finding something that went with whatever she picked would be much easier, more so because I genuinely didn’t care what my dress looked like. But if my past shopping experiences with her told me anything, it was that we’d be here all day. Literally.

  Still, the smile on her face made it worth it. Even as she tried on probably the fiftieth dress. It turns out every color is her color. Me, personally? I like her in blue. Stupid fairy can keep her pink.

  “What about this one?” she asked, doing the best turn she could muster in the mermaid style dress she’d donned.

  “I think if you can barely turn or walk, you’re going to have trouble dancing.” I grinned. “But other than that, it looks great.”

  She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Why don’t you pick something, then?”

  Someone’s getting hangry. I didn’t say that. Instead, I got up and started eyeing the racks while she slipped back into the dressing room. It took me less than two minutes to find the perfect dress. I handed it to one of the associates before sitting back down.

  Rory and the girl started muttering to each other in French after a moment. With the hushed tone, I could only pick out so many words, but if I was honest, I wasn’t paying much attention. Not until Rory poked out her head.

  “Pick something for yourself.” She smiled.

  That would be a trick. By some miracle, the only color they didn’t have was black, which was odd because everyone in this city wore black on a daily basis. The closest I could find was grey.

  I sighed, eyeing the dress like it was my enemy. Girly and dainty with lace and frills. There was nothing wrong with the two on principle, but neither described me. But it would match the one I picked for Rory, so I handed it to one of the other girls and awkwardly headed toward one of the other fitting rooms.

  As I stepped in, the girl followed to assist me with the dress. I sucked in a shallow breath. This was one of the biggest reasons I didn’t get fitted for dresses or go into these stupid shops. Getting undressed in front of anyone was physically painful. Having someone see my scars was the worst feeling.

  I mostly kept my back to her. Even with the mirror, it made me feel better. The girl didn’t comment. In fact, I didn’t even see her look at my scars, which was a relief. Instead, she focused on getting the gown in all its thin lacey glory off the hanger.

  Just as I’d gotten undressed, I heard Rory gasping from outside the room. Sneaky brat waited until I was in here to check herself out in the mirror. I should have seen that coming. The girl who was helping me only got me halfway in the dress before Rory was already back in the fitting room next to me.

  I eyed myself in the mirror in the dressing room for a moment. It looked great from a physical standpoint. Made my reasonably sized boobs pop, my waist look thinner than it actually was, and by some miracle, the pieces of lace on the sleeves covered my burn scars.

  “Would you like to see the larger mirror?” I turned in the dressing room, eyeing the back of the dress as best I could.

  I shook my head. “This is it.”

  The girl looked surprised.

  I sucked in a breath as I started to look at the tag, and then dropped it again. I didn’t want to know. Nash said dress to impress for this one. I didn’t need to know. Just get the stupid dress.

  “Even?” I heard Rory call. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” I called back, turning to the girl. “Can I take it off now?”

  She nodded hesitantly and helped me get the dress back off, turning to leave while I put my regular clothes on. She still didn’t seem to notice my scars. Either that or she was just very good at being polite. A+ customer service.

  “Did you find one?” Rory asked. She was back in the knee length floral print dress she’d donned that morning.

  I nodded. “You?”

  She rolled her eyes. She was getting too good at that. “Yes, the one you found was parfait.”

  “Will this be all together?” one of the girls asked as she hung the dresses back up into garment bags.

  I nodded, grabbing the card Autumn had given me that morning. Henry met us outside, and took the garment bags.

  “I’m going to take a wild guess.” I sighed as we climbed into the car. “You’re hungry?”

  She laughed. “Yes, actually.”

  Chapter 22

  Three weeks left to the gala. Nash was still MIA, with promises he would definitely be back in time for the gala. Autumn was on my case about telling him about Rory. Elaine and I were stressed over finalizing everything, but for the most part, things had gone off with few hiccups. Maybe it was the McCoy funds talking, I didn’t know.

  I was still doing everything I could to get Rory adjusted to the real world. When I wasn’t spending time kissing her, that is. I had mostly forgotten how limited my time in France was. Between the time I put into planning the gala, and all the time I was spending with Rory, I was too distracted.
>
  The summer was nearly over, and apparently all I’d really done was fall deeper and deeper for her. I just hadn’t really admitted it to myself yet.

  Everything was perfect. We had the house to ourselves, we had Henry taking us basically wherever we wanted, and we had each other. It felt like nothing could ruin how perfect life was. For the first time in a long time, I was just enjoying life.

  Much to my surprise, renting a couple bikes was not only cheap, but easy. Teaching Rory how to ride one would be a different story altogether. All the ways this could go horribly, horribly wrong were already running through my head, but she was beaming as I returned with them, and I couldn’t change my mind then.

  I hadn’t ridden a bike in years. Not since before the accident, when I rode a bike to school instead of a well-secured SUV.

  To be safe, I’d gotten both of us helmets, Henry had found knee and elbow pads, and I’d made her wear a pair of my jeans, which were too long, but would hopefully provide some sort of protection. I would have wrapped her in bubble wrap if I thought she could still pedal, but that was unlikely.

  We went to a large park where she could learn to ride on something softer than concrete. I found us a spot far from other people, trees, or playground equipment and parked our bikes. Henry was around here somewhere. Nash had him watching us a lot more closely these days.

  “Okay.” I sighed, biting my lip as I had Rory climb on. “It’s pretty simple. You just pedal, like this to go, squeeze this to stop.”

  She nodded, giving both of the break bars a squeeze. I’d have gotten her training wheels if they’d been available, but they weren’t.

  “But don’t just squeeze the front, it’s not fun.” I grinned.

  “Even, I don’t think this is a good idea,” She mumbled. “I changed my mind.”

  “You can do this. It’s easy. I’ll hold you up for balance. All you have to do is pedal.”