by Mingua, Wren
“So, you never told me how the situation resolved itself,” David said. “When that guy broke into your house... how did you get him out?”
“Oh, uhhh...” Miranda chewed on her lip for a few seconds. How could she possibly explain Algar's presence in the house? “We, uh, well... do you remember that guy I was out with the other day?”
“The one who ate spaghetti with his hands?”
“Oh geez. You noticed that?!” Miranda clutched her head in her hands and sighed. She didn't know why she was surprised, since David was only a few tables away, and it was impossible not to notice Algar's saucy fingers. “Well... his name's Algar. He was staying here at the time, so--”
“He was spending the night with you?” David sawed off a bite of his chicken and shoved it into his mouth. Was she wrong to think he looked a bit irritated?
“No, he wasn't spending the night with me. He's... well, he's homeless.”
“You have some homeless guy living with you?”
“I-it's not as weird as it sounds,” Miranda insisted. “He had nowhere else to go, and Lily, being the silly girl that she is, wanted to take him in. I think Lily has a crush on him... and he probably has a crush on Lily. That's what I think, anyway, so--”
“Wow,” David interrupted. “Your Chicken Parmesan is amazing!”
“Thanks.”
He shoveled another large bite into his mouth. As soon as he finished swallowing, he asked, “So this Algar guy is seeing your sister?”
“Not quite. Well... maybe. It might lead to that. The other day, he almost beat the crap out of her boyfriend, so--”
“Oh really?” David's perfect brown eyebrow was raised. “It sounds like a soap opera over here.”
“Yeah, really. Maybe you should come by more often. It'd be like... free entertainment, like some sort of twisted reality show,” Miranda said with a grin. “You know, David...”
Before she could finish her thought, the doctor blurted, “I want to kiss you.”
“K-kiss me?” She silently cursed herself for stuttering.
“I do. I want to kiss you. I know it's probably wrong, but I've wanted to kiss you for a long, long time,” he went on. “You have... perfect lips.”
“And you have a perfect everything, as we've already pointed out,” she said, winking.
David rolled his eyes at her and pressed, “So, will you let me kiss you?”
“I... will. Yeah. I think I'd like that.” Miranda held a hand over her nose and mouth and breathed into her palm, testing the smell of her breath. “Right after I finish eating... and right after I brush my teeth. There's nothing worse than pasta breath.”
Pasta breath!? Did she really just say that?! When it came to handsome men, she really had no sense whatsoever.
David smiled at her again: his warm, perfect, dimpled smile. “It won't matter if we both have pasta breath.”
“Well then... let us commence with the kissing!” As soon as she spoke, Miranda wanted to laugh at the stupidity of her sentence. “But, uh... we should wait until we finish eating, I guess. We wouldn't want the food to get cold...”
She really was hopeless, wasn't she?
* * *
When the last bite was consumed, they didn't waste time. They relocated to the living room and crashed on the couch together. David pulled her close, extremely close, until she was practically sitting on his lap. She knew they were moving awfully fast for a first date, but it wasn't like they didn't know each other. They had a lot of history together. He had seen her at her worst, crying her jaundiced eyes out as she retched into a bucket. If she couldn't trust David, who could she possibly trust?
Algar.
Why did HIS name enter her mind? As David leaned in for a kiss, and Miranda closed her eyes, Algar's face was the only thing she could see. It was like a cruel joke. This was supposed to be the best moment of her life, but all she could think about was Algar the Scar.
“W-wait.” His mouth was only an inch away from hers when she stopped him. “Maybe we shouldn't.”
“But I really want to kiss you,” David whispered.
“I know. And I want to kiss you too. I do. But maybe we should just...”
David closed the gap between their mouths. When his lips found hers, he coiled his hand around the back of her head. He pulled her onto his lap, explored her with his tongue, and it felt so good that Miranda's reservations melted away. She relaxed in his arms and returned his kisses.
Miranda was too wrapped up in their make out session to notice the front door had opened. In fact, she didn't even realize they weren't alone until she was tumbling off of David's lap. Algar had his fist coiled around the doctor's collar, and he was dragging him off the couch with furious force.
Algar shoved the doctor to the ground, toward the door. When Miranda realized what was happening, she leapt from the couch and ran to Algar's side. “Algar?! What are you doing?!”
“He had no right!” Algar screamed. Panicked, Dr. Mooney started crawling toward the door, so Algar gave him a kick to help him along. “He had no right kissin' you like that!”
“And you have no right to act like this!” Miranda squealed. “You're unbelievable!” In the corner of her eye, she saw Lily mouthing the word sorry. “David! Wait! David!”
But David was already on his feet, dashing toward his car. Algar slammed the door and locked it, ensuring the doctor couldn't return.
“Algar!” Miranda grabbed his shirt and gave him a shake. “Are you insane? Wait, don't answer that. I KNOW you're insane!”
“That bloke was all over you!” Algar grumbled. “He had no right!”
“So that gives you a right to toss him to the ground and throw him out the door?!” Miranda put her hands on her hips as she railed at him. “In case you've forgotten, this is my house!”
“In case you have forgotten, I saved you last night!”
“I'm a big girl!” Miranda countered. “I can kiss whomever I want!” She grabbed David's coat from the chair and stomped to the door. She had hoped to return it to him, but he was already pulling out of the driveway. “Thanks for ruining my night, Algar. Thanks for ruining my LIFE!”
More infuriated than ever, Miranda ran outside and slammed the door behind her.
When she was gone, Algar looked over at Lily and smirked. “What a pussy!” he shouted.
“Yeah, really!” In spite of her sister's ruined night, Lily was grinning. “He didn't even try to put up a fight!”
“A bloody pansy...” Algar reiterated, shaking his head with disbelief.
A few moments of silence elapsed, after which Lily said, “Maybe you should go after her? Tell her how you feel?”
“Maybe I should,” Algar agreed. “But... maybe I should give 'er a few minutes to cool off, yeah? If I go out there now, I'm thinking she might flog me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Several minutes later, which Algar thought was an adequate cooling period, he found Miranda sitting at the end of the driveway, where Dr. Mooney's car had recently been parked. Her shoulders were slumped, her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her lips had sagged into a permanent frown.
“Hey, Angel,” he greeted her as jovially as ever.
She looked up at him, glaring at him over her shoulder. “Algar... don't start.”
“Are you angry?” After enduring another few seconds of Miranda's scowl, Algar had his answer. “I suppose you are...”
“Do you know how long it's been since I've been on a date?! Four years!” Miranda exclaimed. “Four years, I've been alone. Four years, I've been without the companionship of a man.” She rolled her eyes. “I don't even know why I'd miss a man's companionship, since most of you are buffoons!”
“I suppose you're referring to me?”
“But David? He was different!” Miranda went on. “He was handsome and classy and well-spoken. He was a gentleman living in a world of pigs... and then you had to ruin it!” Miranda dragged a hand over her face and groaned into her palm. �
�Do you think he'll ever want to come back here again? I think not!”
“You could do better than him, Love. He was the one squealing like a pig.”
“Maybe he panicked? Maybe he's not used to having brutes attacking him for no apparent reason?!”
Algar sat beside her in the driveway, so Miranda scooted away. “I just couldn't stand to see ye kissin' him,” Algar exclaimed. “And... as it happens, it's been quite some time since I'd been with a lady. Not quite four years, but--”
“When you consider the way you smelled when I first met you? It's no surprise.” Miranda followed up her comment with a playful shove. “Anyway, Algar, the bottom line is... it's nice that you're protective of me and Lily, but you can't keep brutalizing our boyfriends!”
“That man... is 'e your boyfriend?”
“Well... no. But he might have been my boyfriend if you hadn't frightened him off for good!”
“Then I'm glad I frightened him off.”
“Algar...” Miranda felt a tear slip down her cheek, which was more surprising than anything. It had been so long since she had cried, Miranda was starting to wonder if her tear ducts were all dried up. She used to cry all the time, during her lonely nights in the hospital. She wiped the remnants of the tear with the back of her hand and turned away from him.
“Are you crying, Angel?”
“Miranda,” she corrected him. “My name is Miranda. You never call me by my name!”
“Very well. Are you crying, Miranda?”
“Actually... no. It doesn't sound right.” With her thumb, Miranda squashed another tear before it could roll down her cheek. “You should call me Angel. Or Love. Whatever. It's what I'm used to hearing.”
“Well then... why are you crying, Love?” Algar draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.
“I dunno. It's everything... and nothing. I wouldn't expect you to understand.”
“Try me. I'm not a bad listener.” With a grin, he added, “for a pirate.”
“I guess... I'm just sad about all kinds of stuff,” Miranda said with a shrug. “You, David, the fact that my novel sucks. I've been replaying last night's attack in my head, and it's making me paranoid... like I'm afraid it'll happen again. I think about how I had cancer, how I almost died, and it makes me feel sorry for myself. And the fact that Lily was my bone marrow match... it means she basically saved my life, which is a debt I'll never be able to repay.” Miranda stole a glance at Algar, who looked confused. If he was really from the 17th century, she was sure he could only understand half of what she was saying. “It's just... I bottle up everything inside me and I try to play it cool, but everything eats away at me. I have so much on my mind, but I feel like my thoughts would be a burden on people... so I keep them to myself.”
“You can talk to me, Love,” Algar offered.
“That's nice of you, Algar, but I don't want to burden you either,” Miranda said. “I'm sure you have it way worse than me, but you never complain. You were dumped in the middle of nowhere, in a strange place. I mean... that's assuming you're telling me the truth about that.” Miranda tilted in Algar's direction—and eventually laid her head on his shoulder. “Anyway, it probably isn't a good idea to date the doctor. I've been trying to forget about those days at the hospital, and seeing his face would be a constant reminder. So maybe it's a good thing you went apeshit on him.”
All of a sudden, a large droplet hammered Miranda's nose, and it wasn't a tear. When the second raindrop landed on her arm, followed by a third, she rose from the ground and dusted herself off.
“Where are you going?” Algar asked.
“Inside. If you haven't noticed, it's starting to rain, so--”
Algar jumped up and seized Miranda's wrists. “And you think a spot of rain if going to hurt you?”
“No. But I don't want to get my wig wet, so I need to go.”
“Wig,” Algar repeated with a snort. “Why do you even wear the blasted thing? It isn't necessary.”
“It is necessary,” Miranda protested. “It makes me feel better about myself.”
“Well, you bloody well don't need it.” Algar lifted the wig off of Miranda's head and held it behind his back, which had her shrieking at him. But he was used to hearing her shriek at him, so it had little effect.
“Algar!” Miranda squealed. “Give it back!”
“No. I won't.” To prove his point, Algar tucked her wig in the pocket of his jeans. Then he trickled his fingers through her super-short locks, which was quite possibly the softest thing he had ever touched. “I think yer gorgeous like this. You're a bit on the skinny side, of course, but that's nothing we can't fix.”
“Algar!” She stomped her foot as she repeated his name. “Give me back my wig!” She held out her hand and snapped her fingers a few times.
“What'll happen if I don't give it back? “
“I'll be pissed!”
“You don't need it!” Algar tapped her nose with his index finger. “You're adorable like this. Like an adorable wee pixie.”
The rain started to pick up, so much so that it made Miranda's eyelashes flutter. “Algar... I will count to three!” she threatened him. “And if you don't give me back my wig on the count of three, I will seriously do you some bodily harm!”
“You're not getting it back.”
“One.”
“You're even more adorable when you're angry.”
“Two.”
“It's raining a lot harder now, innit?”
“Three!”
As soon as she shouted three, Algar lifted her off her feet and carried her away from the driveway. He carried her further away from the house, toward the middle of the lawn. She tried to pummel him with her fists, to deliver on her threat of bodily harm, but her blows were too feeble to make an impact.
“Algar, why are you carrying me into the grass?!” Miranda complained. “It's raining! For god's sake, we need to go insi--”
Algar bent toward her, silencing her with a kiss. He cupped her head in his hand, caressing her hair with uncharacteristic tenderness. Miranda couldn't believe she was actually letting him kiss her.
Even stranger was the fact that she wanted it to happen.
Miranda slipped her arms around the back of his neck. Her body sagged in his direction, as if she had melted. He lifted her a few inches off the ground as he continued kissing her. When his lips left her mouth, he trailed kisses along her jaw, across her neck, down her shoulder.
“Oh my god...” Miranda said aloud. His lips were plunging into her cleavage, but she couldn't bring herself to stop him, not when it felt so good. “I can't believe I'm kissing you.”
“But do you like it?”
“I--” Did she? If her racing pulse was any indication, it certainly seemed like she did!
“You like it,” Algar confidently deduced. “I know you do.”
Algar swept her into his arms and carried her into the house, like a groom carrying his bride. When Lily saw them passing through the living room, she was so utterly shocked and perplexed, the younger sister could have been knocked over with a feather. Algar carried Miranda all the way to the bedroom and set her on her feet.
As soon as he closed the door, she touched her hair and whispered, “You really like my hair?”
“Aye. I do.”
The tears were back in her eyes again. She tried to squint them away, but she couldn't. Algar brushed his thumb across her cheek and kissed her on the forehead.
“Shh...” he coaxed her. “Don't cry, Love. Why are you sad?”
“Not sad,” she corrected him. “I'm... happy, I guess.” And how weird was that? She never would have predicted that kissing Algar, and hearing his kind words, would make her happier than anything. Her heart was peppered with an array of strange emotions. Nothing made sense anymore.
“You know I fancy you, Miranda,” Algar said, purposefully over-pronouncing her name.
“You... you do?”
“Aye. I do. When I
wake up in the morning, all I want is to see your face,” Algar said. “I wouldn't even want to go home anymore. I'd miss you too much.”
“Aww...” Miranda laid a hand against his chest. “That's really sweet.”
“And you know what, Love?” Algar took a step backward and raked his eyes over her body, from her head to her toes. “I think we need to get you out of those wet clothes.”
“We do, do we?”
“Aye. I think we do.”
At this point, logic was a thing of the past. She lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. In an instant, Algar's eyes were glued to her black bra. That night, Miranda had intentionally worn her sexiest underwear, thinking that Dr. David might see them. She should have guessed it would be the pirate who would end up uncovering her treasures.
Since Miranda started removing her clothes, Algar assumed it was an invitation to follow suit. He tore off his shirt and immediately starting unfastening his pants.
“You don't waste time, do you?” Miranda quipped. As she watched him shuck off his clothes, she was possessed by a fit of giggles. There was something about the moment that felt so completely and utterly wrong—and yet so insanely right.
Miranda unzipped her jeans, hooked her thumbs in her belt loops, and started shimmying the pants over her thighs. By this time, Algar had already pulled off his underwear, and he was diving into the bed.
“I can't believe I'm going to have sex with you,” Miranda said with a giggle.
“I can't believe you just said you're going to have sex with me,” Algar fired back. He tucked his hand under his head and laid on the bed, splayed and naked. Unlike Miranda, he obviously wasn't shy about revealing his naked body.
“Well, here goes nothing! Are you ready?” She unhooked her bra and let the straps slide down her shoulders.
“Love... I was ready about three days ago.”
Miranda removed her bra and flung it aside. She stood at the foot of the bed, half-naked and blushing. Her breasts weren't exactly huge, but his goofy grin left no question as to whether he liked the view.