Hoverfly Girl

by Parker Wren

  “So every day, when I would come home from work, I would go and water the plant. It was looking good, and I thought—hey—why not get some more plants for the place? Well, I mention this to Emily, and then she had this look on her face.”

  “Okay,” I said. “What kind of look?”

  “Well, she looks me in the eye, all serious, almost with concern, and says, ‘Grayson. That’s a fake plant. You’ve been watering a fake plant this whole time.’”

  I burst out laughing.

  “Shut up!” Grayson said teasingly. “It’s not really that funny.”

  Now I could tell that Grayson was, in fact, still embarrassed by his story. For some reason, this made me laugh even harder.

  Grayson put his forehead on the table.

  “Last time I ever tell you anything embarrassing,” he said.

  “Oh, come on,” I said, still catching my breath from the laughter. “That wasn’t that bad at all. That’s a funny story. You have to admit it.”

  “Alright, I guess it’s a little bit funny,” Grayson said with a smile, and I knew he had told me the story exactly for that reason. Even if he was still embarrassed by it.

  As we left the restaurant, I pointed at the fake orchids in the windowsill. “Those are looking a little dry, I think they might need some water—”

  Grayson grabbed me at my sides and tickled me.

  I doubled over. “Okay! Okay! I won’t make fun of your blind thumb anymore!”

  “Good,” said Grayson, and he put his arm over my shoulder as we walked back to the car.

  We still hadn’t kissed today, and the uncertainty of what would happen over the next minutes and hours thrilled me with excitement and nervousness.

  When we pulled up to the house, we sat for a moment, looking at it.

  “It’s going to seem so big without them here,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Grayson replied.

  When we got out of the car, Grayson reached out his hand. I took it.

  “Let’s go out back,” he said.

  I felt my heart pounding rapidly in my chest.

  “It looks like it might storm,” I said as dark clouds approached over the water.

  “I think you’re right,” Grayson said, looking towards the sky. The salty sea air was electric.

  He pulled me next to the deck, into a hidden nook beside the outside shower.

  Suddenly, he pulled me close to him and he started kissing me. We didn’t speak, but him kissing me was acknowledgment of what had happened the previous night at dinner. He still wanted me. This was real.

  His arms were strong around my waist as he pushed me up against the back of the house. Our kissing became more intense, and—again—I was overwhelmed, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth and tongue on mine, savoring his minty taste, memorizing the feel of his body pressed against me.

  He pulled his mouth away and he began kissing me on the cheek, then the neck, slowly making his way down to my collar bone.

  I didn’t want him to stop, but my cautious mind kicked in. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” I said in a weak voice, not really believing my own words. “Someone could see us.”

  Grayson stopped kissing my neck and brought his face inches from mine. I could feel his soft breath on my skin.

  “No one will see us,” he said, his voice quiet and deep.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said, even though I still felt very exposed in the backyard. What if a neighbor decided to wander along our beach?

  “So don’t worry,” Grayson whispered in my ear.

  I let my paranoia wash away. Grayson was an easy distraction from that. We began kissing again, and this time he traced his fingers along the bare skin of my arm before sliding his hands under my shirt. I didn’t stop him, but let his fingertips and hands slowly find their way. My skin was electrified. Everywhere on my skin that his fingers or lips touched felt warm.

  I looked over my right shoulder. The sky was darkening. I could hear the seagulls and feel the breeze on my bare skin, but everything else around us was still.

  Grayson brought his mouth back to mine, kissed me hard, then swept his lips to my neck again. He grabbed my hands with his left hand and put them over my head against the wall. His fingers interlocked with mine. Then his right hand wandered to my thigh, just under my skirt. My skin jumped as his fingers traced higher and higher up my leg. I let him go further, and I closed my eyes as my head rested against the wall.

  I was giddy with anticipation, thinking that I couldn’t take it anymore, but I pulled my arms away from the wall and stopped him. He paused from kissing my neck and looked at me.

  “But I’m standing up,” I said, staring into his brown eyes, which were harder to see now as the sky became even darker. “My legs are feeling weak enough as it is.”

  Grayson let my arms drop from above my head. With his left hand, he cupped my face and turned my gaze back to him. This smile was something I hadn’t seen on him before. It was an intense, knowing, sexy smile. “Shush,” he whispered. “Just don’t think about it.”

  He went back to kissing my neck, his right hand wandered further, higher. I rolled my head back against the siding of the house again. I closed my eyes and bit my lip as he touched me, allowing my breath to become heavier and more ragged, feeling my heart beat louder in my chest. My legs were starting to turn to jello as I struggled to keep myself standing.

  Grayson now wrapped his left arm around my waist and held me tightly against the wall.. I touched his chest with the palms of my hands, wanting to feel his body too, to touch every inch of his tall, sturdy frame. My hands slid to his waist, and I slipped my fingers under his shirt and traced the skin just above his belt. He let me, but after a moment he gently pushed my hands away, so I brought them up and again rested my palms on his chest, thinking about the next time, when I would succeed in unbuttoning his jeans.

  I closed my eyes and let him overpower me. He was no longer kissing my neck, and I could feel his eyes on me, watching me. I kept my eyes closed and focused on the sensations, trying not to think too much. I could hear the sounds of the waves crashing louder in my ears. My brow was furrowed, and I bit my lip again, suppressing the noise building in my throat. I opened my eyes slightly, wanting to see him. And I was right: He was watching me.

  As the warmth spread throughout my body, I started to cry out, but he pressed his mouth on mine at that moment, and my body tensed into his and gave in to him completely. He held my waist strongly, not letting me fall.

  Grayson pulled his mouth away, and I let out a deep sigh as I opened my eyes. He was smiling again, a crooked grin on his face.

  I didn’t know what to do in that moment, so I just stayed where I was and let the shudders slowly leave my body. He kissed me once again, deeply, letting me recover. He then let go of my waist and stepped back.

  My legs felt cramped, but I was able to regain my composure. He stood just inches from me as I straightened my shirt and skirt. He was now standing up straight with his hands in his pockets, his eyes no longer in my line of sight.

  I could feel the blush still present in my neck and cheeks, but was determined to appear collected.

  “Well,” I said, feeling tongue-tied.

  “Well,” he said. Then touching my face again and kissed me.

  We stood there for another minute, just kissing, and as we kissed, we felt large droplets of rain on our skin. We kept kissing, though, until the rain came down more heavily. Grayson finally broke away from our kiss, grabbed my hand firmly, and led me back into the house.

  I still wanted more with him, but I also wanted to linger over and savor each moment with Grayson. I also knew that I couldn’t be with him physically—not fully—until I told him the truth. And I would. Soon.

  We curled up together on the couch, wrapped in blankets, and watched the rain. I looped my hands through his large ones and traced the veins on his fingers. We studied each other’s faces and smiled and talked about a little bit of everything.
At one point, I lay on his chest and drifted as he stroked my hair with his fingertips. The small movements of the hair on my scalp made me feel high.

  As the afternoon drifted into evening, I dreaded the conversation I needed to have with Grayson. I could feel the weight of it growing on my chest. Grayson noticed my sadness and asked what was wrong.

  I forced a smile. “Nothing,” I lied. “Can we eat? I’m starving.”

  “Sure,” Grayson said. “The rain has stopped. Want to start a fire in the fire pit? We can eat out back.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said, but I was really thinking about how awful it would be when I revealed the truth to Grayson.

  CHAPTER 37

  Grayson had made chicken parmesan while I had put together a caprese salad. We sat close together by the fire and devoured our food.

  “Ariel,” Grayson said, once we had finished eating. He took my hands into his. “I know we haven’t talked really, about… well, anything…”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay, really.”

  He shook his head. “No, I mean, I just want to tell you something. I mean, we need to figure out more immediate things, like whether we are going to spend the week together here… but, I just wanted to let you know…”

  I knew I should tell him now. I had to tell him.

  But I was selfish, and I wanted to know what he had to say first.

  My hands still in his, he looked up at me. “I just want to tell you that I know we haven’t known each other for very long. But I really like you. I just didn’t want you to think that I only see you as a fling and nothing else. If that’s what you want, I can be okay with that, but it’s just… I see potential. So I had to tell you that. That even while I don’t know what’s going to happen, I’m… into you. And I want to explore that. If—if you do.”

  I felt a burst of happiness and relief for a brief moment before my dark thoughts took over.

  “Grayson,” I said. “I feel completely the same way. I am… I just… I think you are amazing.”

  I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I started crying.

  Grayson had a look of concern on his face. “What is it?” he asked. “Please, Ariel,” he pleaded. “You can tell me.”

  I tried to stifle the crying, but the tears kept flowing. “You shouldn’t feel bad for me right now. I’m a terrible person.”

  “I’m sure that is not true,” Grayson said, rubbing my back.

  “No,” I said, looking Grayson in the eyes. “You don’t understand. Once I tell you what I’m about to tell you, you are going to hate me.”

  “Not possible,” he said, but I could detect the doubt in his voice.

  I stood up and wiped sand off of my pants.

  “Grayson,” I said. “I’ll tell you the worst part first, okay? But then you have to promise to listen to the whole story.”

  Grayson nodded, saying nothing. His eyes were fixed on me. The fire created shadows on his face that shifted. I could no longer read his expression.

  I took a deep breath and swallowed.

  “I was never Dom’s girlfriend. I was sent here to spy on Henry.”

  There was silence. I expected Grayson to get up, to start pacing, or at least make some expression of shock. Instead, he said nothing as he stared at me.

  “Go on,” he said, his voice cold.

  I had lost him. I had lost Grayson. The feeling was like a punch in the gut. But I also knew that I deserved it. I deserved it the way that any person who has lied to someone they care about deserves it.

  I deserved neither sympathy nor pity.

  I told Grayson the whole story. I started from the beginning—when Manuel approached me, my poorly-thought rationale for going through with it, everything with Dom, my guilt about investigating Henry. I explained how Dom and I were convinced of Henry’s innocence and were trying to prove it to Manuel, but it wasn’t easy. I told Grayson about breaking into Henry’s office and computer.

  Grayson’s face contorted into something resembling disgust and embarrassment. “I can’t fucking believe you people.”

  I sat down and nodded. “I know,” I said. “I thought if I could just show that Henry had nothing to do with it, then I could be done with it. And I am now, Grayson,” I said, turning to him. My voice was pleading, desperate, and I hated myself for it. Grayson shouldn’t even have to hear my pleas.

  “I have never lied to you about anything else. I know you have no reason to believe me since I told you a lot of lies, but it’s true. Every moment that you and I have had together—that’s been real. All of it.”

  Grayson stood up, repulsed by my presence. “I find that hard to believe. Wasn’t I a target too? Henry’s best friend? I’m sure you were trying to work me, too.”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I’m sure I was supposed to. But no.”

  I fought back the tears that were building again behind my eyes. The lump in my throat was so large that I struggled to swallow.

  “I knew,” Grayson said finally.

  I turned to him in shock. “What?”

  He paced around to the side of the fire, hands in his pockets. “Well, I didn’t know all of this, but I knew something. Suspected something. The night that those guys showed up—put a gun to your head—I heard you, Ariel. I heard you tell them that you were ‘here for Henry.’” That was right after I had called the cops and was running down the stairs.

  “I didn’t know what you meant at the time. I thought maybe you were just trying to get these guys away from you, but it was such an odd thing to say. I started to wonder if they were right—if you had been up to something—so you knew the only approach would be to convince them that you were on Henry’s side.”

  I couldn’t believe what Grayson was telling me. “Why didn’t you say anything? Out me to Henry or to his dad? Why were you still… normal with me?

  Grayson shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess because I didn’t know the whole story. I ran through all sorts of crazy theories. Maybe you had been sent by John’s father to protect Henry or to look after me, for some bizarre reason. I couldn’t put all the pieces together. I only knew that, for some reason, I trusted that you did have Henry’s best interest in mind. And, I kept wondering if, maybe, you had just said that to the guy so he would get the gun out of your face.

  “But when I started putting together the stuff with Dom—well, when you first told me about, uh, how you felt about me—I guess I thought you were just looking for something outside of your relationship. It wasn’t until I saw you and Dom at the bar—him kissing that girl—that I started to wonder. Maybe it was Dom, maybe he was the one who I needed to watch out for, and you were just the girl along for the ride.

  “I didn’t know, Ariel. And I guess I should have asked more questions. But I liked you, so I think I convinced myself that my suspicions were all in my head. Even with what I suspected, I had no idea the extent that you…violated Henry’s life and then reported it back to someone.” Grayson shook his head. “What if what you did gets Henry thrown in prison? Did you ever think of that?” His eyes were sharply pointed on mine.

  I let the tears roll down my cheeks again. “I was told that wouldn’t be the case, and since we didn’t find anything—”

  “Excuses, Ariel.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Ariel, you are so smart, but…”

  I gave a pathetic laugh. “Yeah,” I said. “And I make a terrible spy. Confessing everything like this.”

  Grayson shook his head. “No, you know what I mean.”

  I sat down on the blanket, my legs tucked under me, and looked up at him. “You have to understand, the whole purpose of this was for the greater good. At least that’s how it was sold to me. To track down money that belongs to innocent people—innocent people that John stole from. I never wanted to destroy anyone’s life. I thought—naively, I know—that the whole point behind this ‘mission’ or whatever you want to call it, was to help people.”

  Grayson shook his
head. “It doesn’t matter, Ariel. The ends don’t justify the means. I know, a lot of people think they do. But I don’t. John is a criminal. I know that, Henry knows that, and soon the whole world will know that. But spying on Henry like that? Pretending to be our friend? That was wrong.”

  I didn’t say anything for a minute. I didn’t want to argue with Grayson’s worldview right now.

  “I know you probably won’t forgive me,” I finally said. “But… can I just explain one more thing? Please.”

  Grayson sat down next to me. “Okay.”

  I drew circles in the sand with my finger as I spoke. It was time to be honest with both Grayson and myself. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me or give another excuse because everything you said was right. But the reason that I did this,” I said carefully, “the real reason—not the silly excuses I tell myself—was because… of my parents.”

  Grayson nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Because of your mother being kidnapped when you were young?”

  “Kind of,” I said. “So, the story I told you, everything is true. The only thing I didn’t tell you was what my parents did for a living. I said that my dad was a lawyer, and that was his cover, but he wasn’t. He was a field agent. You know, kind of like a spy. For the CIA.”

  Grayson looked at me, incredulous. “What?”

  I nodded. “I know, it probably sounds crazy. And I’ve never been allowed to tell anyone, besides my Aunt Sarah, although I’m not sure if she was allowed to know either. But, well, screw it. My father has been dead for ten years.

  “My mom was an American field agent; my dad was British. They met when they worked together on a mission. When my mom and brother were taken, my father was never the same person again. He let the CIA to move us to Boston, quit the agency business altogether, but he never stopped being paranoid that the same people who took my mom and Oli would come back for us.”

  “Did he have a reason to be suspicious?” Grayson asked.

  I laid down on the blanket and stared up at the stars. “I don’t know,” I said. “That’s the problem. When you’re a kid, you believe everything your parents say. And combine that with the fact that he could be right—I only have an inkling of the kinds of missions he and my mom did when they were in Europe—his paranoia very well could have been valid. Perhaps we did need to protect ourselves.