“Love you too. And Alec, thank you again for tonight. Honestly, it was amazing.” I try to ease some of the guilt I know he feels for bailing on me.
“You're more than welcome, baby girl. Get home safe.” He ends the call before I have a chance to say goodbye.
Shaking my head, I toss my phone into the passenger seat and focus on the road in front of me.
The further I get from the venue, the fewer cars there are around me. Driving through the dark, quiet night, I am sure of only two things...
One, I have to be the absolute worst sister in the world for keeping Alec in the dark about what’s been happening between me and Zayne, especially after everything he’s done for me.
And two, seven o'clock tomorrow cannot possibly come soon enough...
Chapter Thirteen
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? You can't wear that!” Emma leans her small frame against the doorway of my bedroom, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“What's wrong with it?” I ask, looking at my black lace skirt and silver sequenced tank in the floor length mirror in front of me.
“You look like you are heading to one of your grunge bars.” She laughs, shaking her head at me.
“Grunge bars, Em? Really?” I grimace, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “I think it looks okay.” I turn my attention back to my reflection.
“It looks fine, just not appropriate for a date with the man that you are completely gaga for. You should be shooting for unforgettable, not okay. Wait right there.” She quickly backs out of my doorway and disappears down the hall.
I think Emma was more excited than me when I told her about my date with Zayne. “I'm really rooting for the two of you,” she had said last night while we lay in my bed after I’d filled her in on everything that had taken place. “You two are gonna show the world that fairytales exist.” I couldn't help but laugh at that comment.
I can't help but feel like maybe this whole thing is just one monumental mistake. And I keep making it over and over again. Isn't that the very definition of insanity? Doing something over and over again and expecting a different result?
It's like I'm an alcoholic and Zayne is the hardest liquor around. No matter how many times I tell myself I'm going to stop, once I see the bottle, I can't resist taking a sip. And taking a sip leads to me drinking the whole damn thing.
I expected Emma to try to talk me out of it, after the whole debacle with him sleeping with Ashley and all. But she was nothing but supportive. I think she really wants this to work out for me so she’s ignoring all the warning signs. I guess that makes two of us.
Reappearing moments later, Em crosses the distance of my room and tosses a scrap of black material at me. “Here, try this.” She shoos me away from the mirror.
“What is this?” I hold up the small scrap of fabric in front of me.
“It's a dress, Grace. Now shut up and try it on.”
Quickly slipping out of my original outfit, I hesitantly step into Emma's black dress. It takes me a good two minutes to pry the material onto my body and by the time I get it into place, I'm quite certain that it is restricting my ability to breathe normally.
“Em, you can't be serious. If I eat a carrot you'll be able to see it,” I say, gesturing to how tight the dress is.
“Oh don't be ridiculous.” She swipes her hand through the air as she makes her way toward me. Grabbing the front of the strapless dress, she twists it to the side and then pushes my boobs together.
“Hey!” I exclaim, swatting at her hand.
“What? You want everything to be in the proper place, don't you?” She laughs at my expression and then continues to fiddle with the material. “Now look.” She turns me toward the mirror, grabbing the hem of the dress to fix the bottom right as I catch sight of myself.
“Wow.” I’m completely caught off guard by my appearance. The dress is tight, most definitely, but not in a way that looks like it’s too small or anything. Actually, it hugs to every curve I have perfectly and accents my round hips. Ending about three inches above my knee, it's the perfect length too. Short enough to be sexy but not so short that it's slutty.
“Told ya,” Emma chimes from behind me, nodding her head in approval. “Am I good or am I good?”
“You're good,” I admit, running my hands along the smooth material.
“I have a necklace that will go perfectly with this. Hang on.” She disappears again.
Reaching up, my fingers settle on the silver compass that Kyle bought me. I have not been able to take it off since Ian sent it to me a few weeks ago and the thought of doing so leaves me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Taking it off isn't a betrayal, Grace,” Emma says from behind me, reading my thoughts as she catches sight of me gripping the charm in my hand. “It's okay to wear a different necklace for one night.”
Nodding, I reach around and unclasp the chain, leaning over to lay it on the top of my dresser. Stepping up behind me, Em drapes a black lace choker around my neck and secures the clasp before handing me a pair of black drop earrings.
I pull out my silver hoops and put Emma's in their place, taking another look in the mirror once my jewelry is in place.
“You look amazing!” Emma sings from behind me. “But...”
“What now?” I whine, turning to face her.
“It's just, well... This dress would look even better if you wore your hair down.” She eyes my stylishly messy up-do.
“Let me guess, the makeup is too light too?” I gesture to my face where nothing but a light layer of mascara and eyeliner have been applied.
“Are you kidding? No way. Your makeup is perfect.”
“I'm sorry... come again? Did I just hear you say that my makeup is perfect? I'm pretty sure those are words you have never uttered before in your entire life.”
“Oh shut up. I’m not that bad.” She grabs my hand, pulling me out of the room behind her. “Now your hair on the other hand.” She laughs, glancing back at me with an innocent smile.
“Yeah, yeah. Do your thing.” I sigh, plopping down on the closed toilet seat after she pushes me inside the bathroom.
The next thirty minutes are spent letting Emma curl, tease, and spray every square inch of my hair. But I have to admit, it looks amazing once she's done. I may give her a lot of crap when it comes to how particular she is with appearance, but let's be honest, she knows her stuff.
By six-thirty, I’m an absolute ball of nerves, pacing the living room, wondering what the hell I was thinking agreeing to this. It's one thing to be around each other and have instinct take over. It's quite another to plan to spend time together and try to fight that instinct.
In what world does a person agree to go on a date with a man like Zayne rather than taking him to bed and having their way with him? He's not the type of man that you date. He's not a man that you talk to, share secrets with, get to know on an intimate level. No, he's a man you fuck. A man you fuck and then a man you get the hell away from. So why the hell am I not running?
“Would you sit down already? You're making me nervous.” Carver laughs at me from the couch. Normally Emma is my sanity but given that she had to leave for work a few minutes ago, Carver has had to step into that role. And let's just say, he's not near as good as Em. Mainly because he's male.
“This is a mistake. What was I thinking? Carver, I can't do this. Oh god, I can't do this,” I say, more to myself than to him.
Continuing to pace and not really paying attention to where I’m going, I turn and run smack into Carver's firm chest. I jump, not realizing he had gotten up from the couch. He places his hands on my upper arms as I peer up to find him smiling at me, maybe even on the border of flat out laughing at my ridiculousness.
“Stop moving,” he instructs and I immediately stop the restless movement in my legs. “Now, take a deep breath.” I do. “And let it out.” Once again, I comply. “Now look at me.” He waits until I meet his eyes before he continues. “Do you like him?�
�
“You know the answer to that.”
“Do you want a chance to be with him?” he asks it in a different way.
“Again, you already know the answer.”
“Answer the question, Gracie. Do you want to be with him?”
“Yes,” I say, irritated. “What's your point?”
“You feeling this way has nothing to do with the fact that you don't want to go out with him and everything to do with the fact that you do. This is how everyone feels about going on a date with someone they really like. It's completely normal to be freaking out. It means you really like him.”
“I don't just like him, Carv,” I admit, trying hard to fight down the sudden urge I have to run to the bathroom and be sick.
“Then focus on that. You've spent time with him before. Maybe not on an official date, but it doesn't matter what you call it. At the end of the day, this is just another moment. Another fraction of time that you get to spend exploring your feelings for this person.”
I can't help but peer up at Carver with a look of sheer disbelief. Certainly, this is Emma somehow linking into Carver and giving me the talk that she would have given me if she were here.
“Did Em coach you through this?” I ask, not able to contain the laughter that riddles my words.
“Please, that girl has nothing on me.” We both start laughing.
Once we both regain our composure, he asks, “Feel better?”
“Much.” I nod.
“Good, now you better get down there.” He glances past me to the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. Following his line of sight, I see that I have less than ten minutes until Zayne is scheduled to arrive.
“I guess so.” I move past him to grab my clutch purse and cell phone off the kitchen counter. “Wish me luck.” I turn back toward Carver who quickly makes his way to me.
“You don't need luck, Gracie. He would be a complete fool to let a girl like you walk away again but if it makes you feel better, good luck.”
“Thank you, Carv.” I wrap my arms around his lean waist, squeezing tightly before letting him go. “Love you.”
“Be safe... And Gracie,” he calls after me as I head toward the front door. “Have fun. You deserve it.”
“I will.” I pull open the front door, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway of our apartment building.
Deciding to take the stairs since I still have a few minutes, I make my way to the end of the hall and enter the stairwell on my left. Going down five flights of stairs proves more difficult than I originally thought, given the four inch stilettos that Emma insisted I wear. By the time I reach the bottom, my feet feel like I just finished walking down a gravel road barefoot.
Pushing my way outside, I’m fully prepared to wait for Zayne to arrive, so when I glance up and see him standing against his black sports car, body clad in a black tailor-made suit, arms crossed over his chest, I damn near take a nose dive down the front steps.
There is no way that a man as beautiful as the one in front of me exists. And even more so, there is no way said man is here for me. Moments like this don’t happen for girls like me... Do they?
But as I approach the man that literally takes my breath away, all I can think is that maybe, just maybe, these moments do exist. Perfect little pieces of time that remind us why life is worth living.
“REMEMBER, NO PEEKING.” Zayne lets out a light laugh as he leads me down the sidewalk toward an unknown destination.
“How can I peek, you've had your hands over my eyes the entire time? I don't even know where we are,” I remind him, not at all complaining about the fact that for the last two minutes I have been impossibly close to Zayne as he makes every attempt to block me from seeing whatever it is he's up to.
I can't help the giddiness coursing through me or the bubble of nervousness that lies deep in my stomach. All part of being on a date, I remind myself. Although I’m not one hundred percent convinced that's the case.
I'm sure most people get some level of anxiety from dating and while I may be completely inexperienced in the matter, I’m almost certain that it doesn't even come close to the panic and sheer bliss that I feel in this moment.
The thrill that comes with trying to fight something that you know you can't fight. A challenge to see how much I can take before I cave and end up in his bed. For as much as I want that to happen, I don't. I want to take things slow and enter into this knowing that it's not just about the sex but that he feels something too.
From the moment he opened the car door for me and his hand grazed the small of my back, I knew I was in big trouble. Now? Well, let's just say that feeling has only intensified on the twenty minute drive over.
I hear water lapping around us and while I knew we were close to the harbor, it isn’t until I hear my heels click against the wood of a dock that I realize just how close.
“You're not planning on killing me and hiding my body in the Hudson River, are you?” I laugh nervously when his body tightens against mine.
“I'm not a murderer, Grace. Besides, I certainly would not have put forth so much effort if all I was planning on doing was dumping you in a body of water.”
“So much effort?” I question, as his hands slip away from my face.
At first I think I’m seeing things and that the massive white yacht in front of me is simply my imagination. But when an older gentleman, who I would guess is in his sixties, wearing an all-white suit, steps onto the deck and greets Zayne by name, I realize the effort he was referring to.
“You rented a yacht?” I turn to him, my face surely displaying the amount of disbelief I feel.
“Technically, I borrowed it.” He grins. “A business associate of mine owns it.” He turns to the older gentleman. “Good evening, Sam. Is everything set?” he asks, grasping my elbow before gently guiding me onto the deck.
“We are ready when you are, sir,” Sam replies, giving Zayne a polite nod. “Shall I bring you some champagne?” he asks, looking to Zayne who gracefully climbs on board, then to me.
“Yes please,” I blurt, not waiting for his response. With the number of butterflies now swimming in my stomach, I would drink just about anything to take the edge off.
Laughing at my eagerness, Sam nods again, this time in my direction. “Coming right up, Miss.” He gives me a toothy grin before turning, disappearing into the cabin that sits in the center of the expansive deck.
I catch sight of stairs before the door latches closed behind Sam and Zayne pulls my attention back to him.
“She's beautiful, isn't she?” He takes my hand, leading me to the back of the boat that oversees the water. Releasing my hand, he leans against the smooth wood railing and looks out over the calm water that glitters with the setting sun.
“She?”
“The boat. Her name is Le réveil Beauté.” He runs his hand along the smooth wood railing. Catching my confused expression, he lets out an amused laugh. “It means Waking Beauty,” he clarifies, tucking away a strand of hair that blows across my face in the wind.
“Beautiful,” I mumble, completely numb to anything except the feel of his hand against my flesh, the smell of his cologne in my nostrils, and the look in his eyes.
“Very,” he agrees, slowly closing the gap between us as he leans his face down to mine.
Just as his lips brush mine, I hear footsteps heading across the deck and quickly pull away to see a smiling Sam making his way toward us, two champagne flutes on a small silver tray.
I flick my eyes to Zayne who seems both annoyed and slightly amused by the interruption. He gives me a wink and then turns toward Sam, who stops a foot from where we are standing and hands each of us a glass before lowering the tray to his side.
“Thank you, Sam. I think we should be heading out soon. We only have about an hour left of the sun,” he addresses the gray haired man professionally, not bothering to look over and see the shocked expression on my face.
I don't know why, but it never dawned on me that
we would be leaving. I mean, dinner on the deck of a yacht is not unheard of. I assumed that's what this was.
I turn toward him as Sam disappears from earshot, but before I have a chance to say anything, he chuckles lightly and clinks his glass with mine.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I repeat, my voice losing a bit of its volume under the intensity of his gaze. Before I do or say something that I will regret, I tip the glass back and drain the contents in one large gulp.
Zayne mirrors my actions and then takes my empty glass from me. Balancing both glasses in one hand, he reaches the other out for me to take.
“Where are we going?”
“You'll see.” He entwines his fingers with mine, leading me to the cabin in the middle. “Come on. Let me show you around.” He holds the door open and ushers me into a narrow stairwell.
Stepping past me, his body brushes up against mine, causing my breath to catch in my throat. He glances back and gives me a knowing smile before setting his sights forward.
I try to act unaffected and pretend that my body isn't being engulfed in the heat that his touch radiates through me. At this point, I'm not sure whose benefit it's for. Clearly this man knows how badly I want him.
Following him to the end of the staircase, he points to the left where there is a short hall and two white doors on either side.
“That's the kitchen and staff quarters.” He sets our empty glasses on a small round table next to one of the doors before taking my hand again, pulling me in the opposite direction down the short hall.
“Staff quarters? Like people actually stay here?”
“Of course they do. Think of it as a mini cruise ship. It has all the luxuries just personal sized. All of these are bedrooms.” He gestures to the three doors on the left as we pass. “And here.” He stops, pushing open a door on the right. “Is one of the bathrooms.”
I lean past him and peer inside, completely shocked that it looks like a normal bathroom you might find in an average apartment. I don't know what I was expecting, a toilet and standing shower tucked in a small closet sized room?
The Way Back Page 22