by D. C. Ruins
"Yes, it was," Drew said. "And he took me to Elements before that."
"Hmm," her father said, jotting more figures. "In my day that's the sort of thing you did when you wanted something more than a kiss from a girl. You better not be kissin' him either," he added sternly, pointing the eraser end of his pencil at her.
"John!" she said, exasperatedly. "I am a grown woman, you know."
"What's that mean to me?" her father demanded.
"Nothing, John," Drew said, shaking her head. "What he did was a nice gesture. A nice surprise for me."
"Yeah, it was," her father mumbled under his breath.
Drew cleared her throat again. "I asked Heath if he would come to the trial."
Her father was quiet for a long time, then sighed. "Your mother told me you told him what happened," he said. "And that he was a nice guy about it."
"Of course he was," Drew said quietly. "Because he's a nice guy. I really like him, John."
"I know, honey," her father replied, and set his pencil down, turning to face her and folding his arms over his chest. "I know you do. But he's the first guy you've been involved with in a long time, and what happened to you only happened a year ago. I just want to make sure you're bein' careful with yourself where men are concerned. I don't want any guys lookin' at you, knowin' what you've been through, and takin' advantage of that because they see you as some vulnerable, easy little target."
Drew winced a little, but she knew her father only meant well. "I know, Daddy," she said softly. "But Heath's not like that. If I haven't learned anything else over the past year, I have learned to trust my instincts. And yeah, I'm a little scared. But my instincts tell me he's a great guy. And I think you know that, too."
Mr. Carnevale harrumphed and looked away. "Yeah. I think he's a good guy. But he could be the best guy in the world and he still wouldn't be good enough for my princess."
Drew smiled. "Well, you're my dad," she said. "That's what you're supposed to think."
Mr. Carnevale sighed again and lifted his hands in the air in surrender. "Okay, okay. You want him at the trial, he comes to the trial."
That was the easy part. Drew bit her lip. "You know that tournament he's training for, Smackdown? He told you about it on Sunday?"
"Yes, Samuel," her father said in his absent tone again, going back to his figures.
"It's in Buffalo."
"Mm-hmm."
"He asked me to go with him. And his family."
Mr. Carnevale snapped his head up. "And you told him no." It was not a question.
Drew fidgeted, feeling suddenly like she was fourteen again. "I told him I would think about it," she replied. "And I am thinking about it."
"What's there to think about?" her father demanded. He leaned past Drew toward the kitchen. "Carmela!" he called.
"Aw, come on, John," Drew said, sighing. "You don't have to bring Mom –"
"What is it, Joe?" Mrs. Carnevale said, coming out of the kitchen. She looked between Drew and her father. "What's going on?"
"Drew's new boyfriend has asked her to travel to Buffalo with him," Mr. Carnevale said, folding his arms. "To that fight of his."
"Okay, first of all, he's not my boyfriend," Drew said, lifting a hand.
"Yet," Bunz's voice floated in from the kitchen. Drew ignored her.
"Second, he has a name—Heath, who you both met and told me you liked, especially you, Mom," Drew pointed at her mother. "Third, I asked him to come to the trial for moral support, and he asked me to come to the tournament for moral support for him. That's all."
"But, Drew, out of town?" Mrs. Carnevale said, frowning with worry. "You would feel comfortable with that?"
"Yes," Drew said firmly, although she still wasn't totally sure. "He would never let anything happen to me. I'll be fine."
"What about the trial?" her father asked. "Will you even make it back in time?"
"Yes, of course," Drew replied. "It's only seven hours from Buffalo to the city and we'll have all day on Sunday to get there."
Mrs. Carnevale looked at her husband. "We can't tell her what to do," she reminded him gently. "She is an adult."
"Thanks, Mom," Drew said.
"You shut up," her father said, pointing at her. "I don't like it. I want to talk to this Heath myself."
"John, come on," Drew said. "I'm not a teenager."
Her father stepped toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. "No," he said. "You're not a teenager. But I don't care how old you are. You're my daughter, and I wouldn't be all right with this even if you hadn't been attacked and almost killed last year. But since you were, I'm really not all right with this, and I want to talk to this boyfriend o' yours to make sure he doesn't get any funny ideas."
"Dad," Drew said exasperatedly.
"That's my condition," he said firmly. "I talk to your boyfriend."
Drew's face darkened. "He's not –"
Her father waved his hands. "All right, all right. He's not your boyfriend. I don't care. I still talk to him. Or no trip."
"Joe, we should go," her mother interjected. "We need to get to the bank and then I want you to take me to lunch. Drew—we'll bring you and Bunz back something to eat. And we'll see you on Sunday and maybe later and tomorrow too."
Drew sighed. "Mom, I won't be there on Sunday. Remember? I told you I'm goin' to his family's house for dinner."
Her mother stared at her. "You're not comin' on Sunday?" she demanded.
"Mom, I told you this already."
"I thought you meant Saturday, tomorrow!" she said. "Not Sunday. You can't miss Sunday!"
"I said Sunday, Mom," Drew said. "And what's the big deal? Sometimes Nik and Toni miss Sundays when they go to Vince's or Ryan's families."
"They're married," Mrs. Carnevale insisted. "That's totally different. You're a single girl, you belong with your mother at her house on Sunday!" She waved her hand, her other clutching at her heart. "Fine, fine. You go with them on Sunday. Forget about your mother. I'll be fine."
"Let's go, sweetie," Mr. Carnevale said, taking his wife by the arm and fixing Drew with a piercing stare. "You remember what I said," he said, his tone vaguely threatening. They left the café and as Bunz came out from the kitchen, Drew dramatically collapsed over the top of the counter.
Bunz was chewing a piece of the freshly baked Italian loaf she'd just made. "Well," she began, chomping on the crusty bread with her eyes wide. "I'd say that went about as well as you could hope for." She offered a piece to Drew, who grabbed it. It was perfect—hard and crusty on the outside, soft and fluffy on the inside.
"Yeah," Drew mumbled through a mouthful of bread. "I'm exhausted."
Chapter Twenty-Two
As the day wore on, Drew found herself unable to think of anything but the previous night. It had been so perfect, the way every date ought to be, and it was the sort of thing that she'd never really believed existed in the real world for people like her. But, it had happened.
And, as it had been doing most of the day during lulls, her mind turned to the couch. She could still feel his fingers moving against her, teasing her, touching her so perfectly and exactly how she never knew she liked to be touched, until her peak had burst out of her stronger than she could ever remember experiencing. She couldn't even really recall with any accuracy the last time she'd had an orgasm; it had been long before even the attack, although the attack had solidified the obsolescence of that part of her body. She never thought that she'd ever feel arousal or desire again; in fact, she assumed she would never have sex again for the rest of her life, never want it again. She'd healed physically, although that had taken months; she'd had to undergo a series of several surgeries, and the damage done from her attacker's body and his "toys", including her own kitchen knife, had caused the need for an impromptu hysterectomy at the ripe age of twenty-six. Mentally, she'd assumed not only would she never be intimate with anyone again but she would also never be with anyone ever again, and up until meeting Heath, she'd done just fin
e.
And then, he'd completely discombobulated her.
She thought about the idea of having sex with him. The thought, on a surface level, made her want to run screaming for the hills; not because of him—the overall idea of allowing anything to penetrate her again terrified her. But as she forced herself to envision it, using the context from last night, she wondered if it couldn't be as wonderful as people made it out to be. Her body instantly grew warm as she imagined his skin sliding against hers, his fingers working the magic she'd come to realize they were capable of, his lips moving against hers in the way she loved. She felt her skin flushing and tightening at the thought. Then, she imagined him gently parting her legs and settling in between them, and that large, hard bulge she'd felt through his pants last night moving against her core. Her stomach felt tight and tingly and her breath started to hitch a little faster. Then she imagined him moving into her, invading her most sensitive and most abused area with himself, and panic settled over her like a wave and her eyes flew open as her heart began to beat erratically and fear made her vision swim.
She took a deep breath and blew it out hard through her mouth, automatically going to the relaxation techniques she'd been working on lately instead of her medication. She put her hands on her hips and frowned at the floor. Her body had been responding favorably until her mind got in the way, and it was disheartening. She knew on a physical level, she wanted to be with Heath that way; she didn't know how to make her mind fall in line with that.
At least, he hadn't done anything more than touch her, as he promised her that was all he'd wanted to do, and he had made it clear he wasn't looking for any sort of reciprocity either. As she began refilling the flavored syrups behind her on the counter, she wondered when the next time he would touch her like that would be, and at the thought, she began to feel a little throb deep inside her and her flesh suddenly tingled. She bit her lip, losing herself in how she felt. Suddenly she pulled her phone out of her pocket.
"Are you taking care of my mug?"
"Hello to you too. Yes. The mug is fine. I think. I'm not really sure, I left it alone at home."
"WHAT?!"
"Sorry. I had to come to work."
"I'll be needing it back from you as soon as possible. Obviously you can't be trusted with nice things."
"I think I saw about a thousand coffee mugs between your sink and your cupboard."
"That's beside the point; I want THAT ONE."
"You're welcome to come get it from me later."
"I think I will do that. When I get off work."
"I actually can't wait. If that's what it takes to get a visit from you…I think I'll keep your mug forever."
"Highly unlikely. And don't eat dinner. Talk to you soon!"
Drew smiled to herself at their humorous exchange. She knew she couldn't wait two full days to see Heath again. Hell, she couldn't even wait twelve hours to see Heath again. She wanted to see him, and she wanted to be alone with him.
***
Heath looked up from his desk when he heard knuckles rapping on the doorframe. He smiled when Drew stepped into his office. He'd just finished sparring with Rex and then Jameson half an hour before, and had used the locker room to take a shower and change into clean clothing in time for her visit. He knew she didn't really care about the mug, but even if she did, he was happy to see her regardless.
He rose from his chair to step around his desk and reached for her just as she set a large brown paper bag down. He perched on the edge of his desk and took her hand, pulling her to stand in between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his face into the side of her neck, reaching up to stroke her back lightly.
She laughed a little breathlessly, unaccustomed to his forward display of affection. Prior to the previous night, they had tiptoed a little around being affectionate toward each other, but the intimacy they'd shared the night before seemed to break yet another barrier. At any rate, barring any real discomfort she might feel, he didn't really care if it was too forward; he'd actually missed her throughout the day and the sight of her and being able to hug her now made him feel immensely peaceful.
He kissed the side of her neck and released her, looking calmly into her face as she flushed a little and dimpled at him.
"Now that's how you treat a girl," she teased lightly and he smirked.
"I do what I can," he replied. He glanced at the sack as he suddenly felt hunger pangs begin to assault him. Before he'd sparred with Rex and Jameson, he'd ran a few miles—he'd lost track after three—and then hit the weights, and the bags. He hadn't stopped to take a break and hadn't eaten since breakfast. He was starving. "What did you bring me?"
"A giant chicken and avocado wrap on a multigrain tortilla with lettuce and sprouts and some sort of low-calorie dressing," she replied.
"Now that's how you treat a man," he teased back.
She grinned. "I suppose it's the least I can do, after the supreme treatment I got last night." He knew she wasn't referring just to the dinner and the ballet by the way she averted her eyes shyly and blushed a little. She cleared her throat and reached for the sack. As she leaned past him he caught her chin in one hand and brought her face toward his to kiss her in her favorite way.
"I have a confession to make," she whispered as he pulled away slightly. Her eyes were still closed.
"Hm?" he asked absently, tracing his thumb over her bottom lip. "What's that?"
She flushed even deeper. "I've been thinking about kissing you all day." She was still whispering, and he knew that it was a stretch for her to say something like that, which made him believe her all the more and he felt flattered.
He leaned in again, cupping her jaw in his hand gently. "Is that right?" he murmured against her lips before kissing her deeply again. She grabbed at the front of his zip-up sweatshirt and enthusiastically returned his kiss, and after a while Heath completely forgot about his meal, his office, the fact that they were at the gym. The only thing that mattered right now was that she was pressed against him and that he was finally tasting the lips he'd been thinking about all day, too.
They were interrupted when Rex came barging into the small office, the door flying open. Drew tore her lips from him and jumped a foot in his arms. Heath remained where he was, only lifting his eyes to glare at Rex.
"Oh, sorry, man!" Rex exclaimed with a grin, sounding anything but.
"The next time you come in here without knocking first, you get demoted to human punching bag," Heath said. "What the hell do you want?"
Rex still had the little shit-eating grin on his face when he handed Heath a flat cardboard envelope. "Here," he said. "This was just couriered over for you." He handed off the envelope and stepped back, fixing Drew with a wider grin. "Nice Asian flush there, Carnevale," he commented.
"Rex, get the hell out of here," Heath said. Rex snickered and backed out of the office, making a show of shutting the door gently. Heath shook his head after him and glanced over at Drew. She looked at him from under her lashes and dimpled.
"Forgot where we were for a minute," she teased.
He smirked. "Me, too." He looked down at the large envelope in his hand and tore off the perforated strip, tossing it onto his desk. He reached inside and withdrew a few sheets of paper, looking them over.
Drew folded her arms and shifted her weight as she watched him quietly flip through the sheets of paper. He could practically feel impatience radiating off her and glanced up at her.
"You doin' all right over there?" he asked.
"What's that?" she asked.
He smiled at her nosiness. "None of your business," he teased. She narrowed her eyes playfully then shrugged.
"You're probably right," she replied. "I am horribly nosy."
"No, it's fine," he reassured her. He held up the sheets. "This is my notarized tournament contract, my fight itinerary and my schedule of events."
"Oh, so you're all set then," she commented.
"Sort of," he said.
He folded his arms and glanced at her. "Just wondering if I'll have some company or not." His tone was teasing but his eyes slid over her in a way that made her tingly.
"About that," she said and he lifted his eyebrows at her. "Um. Well, I do want to go with you. I just had to think things through a little. For me, sometimes I can't just make a decision like a 'normal' person would. I have to think about everything—I mean, everything."
"I get it," he replied mildly. "And for the record, I don't look at you as abnormal."
She smiled. "Thanks," she said. "Anyway, here's the thing. My father will chain me to a chair in their apartment to keep me in Pittsburgh if he doesn't speak with you first." She rolled her eyes. "I know, I know. I'm twenty-seven. But you don't understand. I'm the baby of the family. My dad is Sicilian. He is extremely overprotective. I don't think that will ever change, even if I get married or something. He –"
Heath lifted a hand. "Drew, it's cool," he replied. "I was always intending to speak to your father anyway."
She was surprised. "You were?"
Heath lifted an eyebrow and nodded. "Yeah, of course. You think I'd take someone's daughter out of town without clearing it with them first? If I had a daughter, I would insist on the same thing. In fact, I probably wouldn't let her go anyway." He shrugged.
Drew was floored. "Wow. Well, okay." She beamed at him. "I guess that's settled then."
He looked at steadily. "Drew," he said in a tone that was almost stern. "Why do I get the feelin' that you're not bein' completely honest with me?"
"About what?" she asked, but she found herself unable to meet his eyes.
"About coming with me to Buffalo," he replied. "I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm really good at readin' people. And I can tell you're still not sure. Why don't you just talk to me about it and tell me what's on your mind?"
Drew thought about protesting, about telling him that no, she was fine, the trip sounded great, but she knew he would know she was not being honest and didn't want to seem like a liar. So, she let out a heavy sigh.
"Okay," she began. "Don't get me wrong. I do want to come and support you. I really do. It's just that I haven't been back to New York since I left, and I haven't traveled anywhere without my family. So I guess I'm just sort of scared of the idea that I'll be doing something all alone...without them. Which I know sounds really infantile."