The Gift
[AU] When April’s 28th birthday arrives, her roommates get her a very special present. But no one warned poor April she shouldn’t fall in love with the escort hired to deflower her.
[First Chapter / Previous Chapter]
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Chapter Two – Coke Cap
Coming here was massive mistake. And I had come to that nonnegotiable conclusion in less than two minutes, which should really say something.
The thing was, though, that this wasn't because of any of my initial fears and objections. Nothing close to those, actually. I didn't regret my decision to join him to dinner because this was all a huge lie and I wanted nothing to do with it, or because it stood against every single Christian value, or because 'what would my father think of me if he saw me right now?', or because dinner was in the deal which actually meant I was doing exactly what those stupid pieces of… of crap that were supposed to be my friends had planned for me tonight and I had no idea if it was even legal or not. All those were perfectly good reasons to stop me from coming here, but all of those seemed to just vanish the second I looked into his eyes, the second he smiled at me, the second he took my hand and lead me through the restaurant's door. Instead, there was this tiny bitty fact that lead me to believe this decision of mine was a horrible, horrible mistake.
The fact that all I could think of as he was sitting across me on the other side of the table was how much I wanted to kiss him.
Yep. Told you I was going insane.
Was I really the one at blame though? Yes, would be your answer since you haven't seen him. But having him here in front of me, I should assure you that I wasn't. Not fully, at least. The largest part of the blame went to him and him only.
I had been so occupied by staring into those ocean eyes of his like a moron that I never even noticed what he was wearing until he started removing them. Not his eyes, his clothes. And not all of them, in a public space like this that's called exhibition not prostitution. Or escorting, whatever. The only piece of clothing he did remove was a black jacket he had been wearing, revealing a dark grey shirt from underneath, which just so happened to highlight every single muscle of his upper body perfectly.
I heard him clear his throat, and my eyes flew back to his face, only to notice he wore that cocky smirk of his again. "See anything you like?"
My entire face flushed red and I quickly looked down at the menu in my hands. Well, of course he had caught me gawking. "Um, yes actually, this… swooiy… uh…" I squinted trying to make out what on earth the first thing in the catalog was but soon realized it made absolutely no sense. "Is there a catalog in English?" I asked instead. "My Italian is a bit rusty."
His mouth twitched in a weird way and he quickly brought his hand up, pressing his fist against it. Once it finally left his mouth, his expression was mostly under control again, apart from his eyes. The complete and utter amusement in them gave him away. He began leaning towards me then, closer that he had ever been before, until his face was just a foot away from mine. Obviously I began freaking out, and just when I was about to ask him what on earth he was doing, his long fingers got hold of the menu I was holding and with a single move he turned it upside down.
Well that makes sense.
"Maybe this will help." He whispered with a kind smile, and the small distance between our faces made it so that I got to smell him for the first time. And his scent, just like the rest of him, was intoxicating. It represented freshly cut timber, like the damp forest after a rainy day; he smelt heavenly, like fresh-scented pine and honey. And instantly his aroma felt like a drug to me. I wanted more. I needed more.
My body instinctively leaned closer as my arm shot upwards to tug on the collar of his shirt and keep him there. Fortunately my mind took over just in time and changed my hand's curse, making it land on my neck instead -my racing heartbeat pounding against my palm. "Right." I muttered. "Thanks."
"Anytime." He somehow still managed not to chuckle as his body straightened up again.
I glanced back down at the menu, my eyes searching for anything I felt like eating, but my mind not nearly comprehending the words. All I could think of was how light the color of his eyes seemed as he had leaned close to me. So light that I really couldn't decide if they were green or blue after all. Outside I would have sworn they were mainly green, but under the dim light of the single lantern placed on our table –right next to the single white rose I had put in a glass of water- they looked completely blue.
"So, what did you decide on?" he asked me after a while.
I pursed my lips. "I think blue." I said calmly, and once I actually realized what exactly I had let out of my stupid mouth I felt all the color drain from my face. "UH, no! That's not what- I didn't-" I shook my head and quickly I held the menu even higher to hide my face behind it, although the hiding I really needed right now would be in a cave up the mountain where nobody would ever see me ever again. "I haven't decided yet." I mumbled, wincing now that he couldn't see me and mentally kicked my self's ass.
I heard him starting to cough, and even though it was so clear he was masking up his laughter to coughing, I actually did appreciate the effort… with the tiny bit of my mind that wasn't dying of shame. The coughs came for quite a long time before he finally calmed down but the amusement in his voice was more than clear when he spoke again. "Any thoughts on drinks, then?"
I sighed, and finally lowered down the catalog, after forcing the wincing away from my characteristics. Most of it, that is. "I don't drink alcohol."
That seemed to snap him out of his amused state. "Really?" he asked, his tone curious. "Why not?"
I dared a glance up his face, but nothing but curiosity emerged from his expression. This reaction surprised me, if not confused me. Every time I told someone I didn't want to drink alcohol I was met with weird looks and raised eyebrows. I had got called a prude, a nerd, a party popper and all sorts of other lovely adjectives. And even though I knew he wouldn't call me any of those names, I still expected to find at least a trace of mocking of some short in his voice. Yet, there was none.
Man, he was good. They should give him an Emmy or something.
"I… I just don't like the taste." I told him the same excuse I told everyone, but the second I did a wave of guilt washed over me, leaving icy trails inside my veins. I frowned. I was not a good liar, but I had learned the hard way that some things were better kept to myself and that only. The things I had come up with to tell people instead of the truth when the matter presented itself, though, seemed by now as if they were some good old poems that I had learned by heart, and after telling them so many times I never even felt bad anymore. I sure didn't own this stranger anything, not along personal information, but yet lying to him felt so wrong for some reason, and I felt so guilty doing so.
He seemed to consider that for a second before he nodded. "Well, I sure get where you're coming from. It tastes pretty bitter." He said with a small wince, and I let out a little surprised huff. I couldn't believe my ears. "What?" he asked in response.
I shook my head. "I just… I didn't expect you to agree with me." I admitted.
"Why not?"
I shrugged. "You just seem like the kind of guy that would appreciate a glass of champagne. Or, well, more than one."
He grinned. "Well, you know that assuming things about people isn't very nice." He pointed out. "But I have to admit that I do enjoy champagne -with the right company. I am generally more of a beer guy, though."
…Beer? "Seriously?" I completely failed to make the connection. I expected champagne and exotic cocktails but beer? That was so… so ordinary.
"Seriously. And since we are all about assumptions…" he trailed off, bringing his hand up his face so that he could rub his chin in a gesture of thought. "Hmm, let's see… I assume you are the kind of girl that enjoys orangeade." He said, confidence in his voice.
I smiled. "Nope, but close."
He raised his eyebrows. "Lemonade?"
"No."
"Coke."
I shook my head. "Only on special occasions, but generally no."
He frowned. "Sprite?"
"Almost there."
He groaned. "What else is there?"
He sounded so desperate that I couldn't help but giggle. "I like sparkling water."
His expression immediately changed, from playfully frustrated to… Well, I don't know what it was. He seemed impressed. But not fully impressed, there was something else too as he was staring into my eyes. Some… warmth in his look.
"What?" I asked in advance. "Lots of people like sparkling water."
He blinked and looked away, as if snapping out of whatever it was that suddenly got into him. "No, yeah, I know, it's just…" he mumbled and then closed his eyes and smiled to himself. When he opened them again, he looked back at me, and I frowned confused. "You have a really lovely laughter, April." He explained.
As soon as the words left his mouth I felt my cheeks inevitably growing hot. I watched his eyes lay on my cheeks a moment too long, before suddenly looking up to the waitress that was now standing beside us.
"Hello." She said with a kind smile. "I am Katie and I will be your waitress for tonight. What would you like to drink?"
He looked back at me. "Is this a special occasion?"
I impossibly blushed even deeper, and I didn't even know what on earth he was asking me. Well, why not? I nodded.
"Two cokes, please." He said and the waitress nodded and walked away.
Oh, right. I guess I did mention drinking coke only on special occasions. "You didn't have to get one too just because I did." I pointed out. "You could have just gotten yourself a… a beer." It was still hard to imagine him drinking a beer. It was like wearing your pajamas at a gala. I just couldn't make the connection.
"Drinking alone when accompanied by a lovely lady? Now that's just rude."
"Well thank God I am not a lovely lady, then." I said with a huff.
"You are not?" he questioned, quirking one eyebrow. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
His eyes narrowed playfully. "Is there something else under that pretty dress of yours that I should be aware of?"
Under my dress? What on earth was he…
Oh.
OH.
"What?! No! What are you- why would you even… no! I'm a… I'm a girl, like, everywhere, and down there I-" Oh. GOD.
I looked around and found more than a few sets of eyes looking at me with amusement. Because obviously I had been yelling and I could bet everyone in the restaurant had hear my perky voice. Please let the earth open up and swallow me this is too much. "I'm a girl." I repeated in a whisper, my face red as a tomato.
And he was laughing. That… that bastard was laughing! "Quit laughing, it's not funny!"
He bit his lip, nostrils flaring and shoulders shaking. I was tempted to actually get up and hit his shoulder, but that's when the waitress came back with our drinks. "Have you decided on what you will order?"
I grabbed the menu and read the first thing in the catalog. "I'll take a Chicken a La Creme." I said and she nodded and wrote it down on a little notepad before looking towards him.
"Lasagna for me, thank you." He managed to say through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving mine.
The waitress wrote that down too and walked away, and I clenched my fists, trying not to do something stupid. "Why on earth would you ask me that?" I hissed.
He held his hands up the air in defense. "You are the one that said you weren't a lovely lady."
I all but growled. "Well, yeah, obviously I didn't mean I'm not a girl!"
"Well, that would be the only way your statement would make sense to me."
Ha. Yeah, right. I grabbed my coke and tried to open the bottle. "Okay, you don't have to do that."
"I'm not doing anything." He exclaimed with an innocent expression.
I rolled my eyes. "Really, just… stop, alright? I don't like it." I mumbled. The coke had the kind of lid that needed a bottle opener to open, and so obviously it didn't want to come out. I scanned the table for an opener but there wasn't one, so I just struggled with the lid, putting all my strength in the action.
"Stop what?"
"Jackson…" I realized that this was the first time I had ever spoken his name out loud. He had a very nice name, I had to admit. A name would like to get used to saying. But never would, obviously. At least, not linked to the person sitting across from me. I sighed. "Look, I know I agreed to dinner but that doesn't at all mean I agreed to…" I paused and closed my eyes. "I don't want you to be my… escort. Or whatever. I know they paid you for that, and I know that's the only reason you are here right now, but I just…" I opened my eyes again, and look down at the bottle in my hands. The stupid thing wouldn't open no matter how hard I tried. "I don't want you to try to make me feel good." I continued. "I don't want you to do or say things in order to make me feel… in a certain way. You don't have to, and it just makes me feel worse for agreeing to even this, so please just stop. I don't want for tonight to be 'my night', and I don't want you to be mine. I want you to just…" I lifted my gaze, locking it with his. "Be you. Be honest. Or, you know, don't be if you don't want to be, you don't have to. Do whatever you want. Just don't pretend for me." I pleaded, emphasizing the last words.
His eyes were on mine the entire time I was speaking, staring at them with intensity. He didn't speak, and neither did I, and for a long moment we just stared into each other's eyes. It was such a bizarre feeling, to look into somebody's eyes for so long. This was yet another first for me, and I couldn't help but notice his intense gaze didn't make me feel awkward at all, like I had expected. Instead, it made me feel important. After a while he finally looked down at the table and took his own coke in his hands. I watched as he delicately raised his left sleeve and pressed the bottle against the inside of his forearm. He then proceeded to twist it, and with a small popping sound the bottle snapped open.
How the... I shook my head and I looked down at my hands with a sigh. This whole situation was so messed up. And basically, wasn't what I just asked him also what I wanted? By asking him to not do what I wanted, wasn't I asking him to do what I wanted too?
Man, I wasn't even making sense anymore.
I sighed and decided to attempt to open the bottle once again. I shut my eyes tight and held my breath, and using all of my strength I tried to twist the cap with my palm. A few struggling sounds came out of my mouth but I didn't give up, until I felt something warm against my hand. My eyes snapped open to see his fingers against my skin, brushing it softly. I looked up at his eyes again, their all-too-familiar warmth fully returned. "Let me help."
I handed him the bottle and watched as he placed the cap against his forearm again, putting on it what seemed like just a tiny bit of pressure, and in no time he held the open coke up for me to take.
"Thank you." I mumbled as I took the bottle in my hands.
"You're welcome." He said with a crooked smile and raised his own coke up in the air. "Let's make a toast."
I blinked. "A toast?" What could the two of us possibly have to toast to?
He shrugged. "Why not? Don't you have anything you'd like to toast to?"
Here's to not regretting tonight –highly unlikely.
I snorted and he raised an eyebrow at me in response. "Uh no, I can't think of anything." I patched it up.
"Well then…" he trailed off, rubbing his jaw in thought. He frowned then, his eyebrows joined together in an expression I could only describe as an 'angry face', but I was sure he was just thinking and not at all pissed. Still, a wave of satisfaction washed over me at the sight, as I quickly realized he had actually dropped the charming attitude for a second there. That face sure wasn't purposed for charming me. Instead, it was real. And, I had to admit, so damn cute. I bit down on my lower lip to hold back a wide grin.
His 'angry face' gave its place to a short of an embarrassed look, and he rubbed his neck with his hand. "Uh, you know, I actually can't think of a toast that's not dirty right now, and I think you probably wouldn't appreciate something like that." He admitted truthfully.
He looked like a dog that had just peed on the carpet and I had to chuckle loudly at the view. "Yeah, probably not." I agreed. "Cheers?" I offered while grinning.
I noticed his eyes laid on my lips for a moment before he grinned back. "Cheers." He said and raised his coke a bit higher before bringing it to his mouth and taking a few sips. Only when I mimicked his movements did I realize how truly thirsty I had been for some reason, and almost finished up the entire bottle.
"But it's not like I'm into that kind of stuff." He clarified suddenly, as if he was afraid I had misunderstood him. "It's just that the people I usually acquaint with seem to enjoy them a lot so I have memorized quite a few." He stated and slightly shook his head. "But you are clearly nothing like those people." He added with certainty, as if he had known me my whole life instead of a few minutes.
Well, it was true. He probably hanged out with all short of rich sexy women and hot guys with the most expensive cars, who had enormous pool parties every weekend with huge amounts of alcohol and God knows what other substances, went to work with helicopters and lived in a house as big as freaking Seattle. And then there was me, a living and breathing potato that couldn't even afford a place of her own and had to live with her two stupid, supposedly best friends who left her alone with some random… handsome… cute… and kind… and funny- escort, in the middle of nowhere, without a second thought.
Oh, had I mentioned that already? Good.
"Yeah." I exclaimed with a sigh and took another sip of my coke. "I guess I'm definitely nothing like them."
He nodded in agreement. "Definitely not. And I'm so glad that that's the case."
Har, har. Right. And here I thought he had actually dropped the act. "Didn't I just ask you to stop doing that?"
"I thought you asked me to be honest."
I rolled my eyes. "Come on now, really?"
"Didn't you want me to stop pretending?"
"Exactly."
"Well, I'm supposed to do anything you want, so I did."
I groaned. "No! That's exactly what I don't want you to do!"
He frowned. "You don't want me to do what you want?"
"Yes!"
"So I shouldn't stop pretending is what you're saying."
"No!"
"Oh, so I should stop pretending we're just having dinner and treat you like I was paid to do." He concluded. I could see in his eyes that he was playing with me. He knew pretty damn well what I meant.
I groaned. "No, that's not-"
"But if that's what you want then I should probably keep pretending since I'm supposed to do what you don't want, right?"
Okay, he was insane. I huffed. "You don't-"
"So I should not do what you want because if I did I would be doing what you didn't want me to do and that's what you want so I shouldn't do it?"
"Jackson!" I giggled and reached over the table to playfully hit his arm. I knew it sounded weird but I also knew he got it. "Stop! You know what I mean."
He chuckled. "I do, but it just happens you look so cute when you get frustrated and I couldn't help myself."
I buried my head in my hands, hiding yet another blush. "Seriously now?!" Why couldn't he just stop with the stupid lying already?
"Okay, here's what's gonna happen." he said, ignoring me. "The two of us, we are going to make a deal."
I sighed and peeked at him through my fingers. "What kind of deal?" I asked, although my body was too busy reacting to the way he said 'the two of us'. And by reacting I mean the usual heart-racing, stomach-flattering stuff that I had been certain only happened in romantic movies and books until tonight.
"Be open-minded though, okay?" he said, narrowing his eyes cautiously at me.
I'm having dinner with an escort, I think that's just as open-minded as you can get.
"Ouch." He said wincing and only then did I realize I had actually spoken that last part out loud.
"Shoot. Sorry, I didn't really mean that, I-"
He held up his hand, cutting me off. "Hey, no, it's fair enough. And true. You can't apologize for speaking the truth."
"You can if it's rude to speak it." I disagreed.
He seemed to consider that for a moment. "Well, maybe. I guess you can't tell someone their baby is ugly, even though it looks more like a monkey than a human." He remarked and I chortled. "But still this wasn't rude. You just thought of it and said it. And that must be a great accomplishment for you, come think of it. I assume you are not the kind of person that is easy to win over and get to open up. It sure as hell has been hard for me so far."
"Well, you know that assuming things about people isn't very nice." I quoted him, and he grinned widely in response. "But I have to admit that you assume correct. Although I really am not giving you a hard time, that's just an exaggeration."
He pursed his lips. "True. I bet you give others a much harder one, huh?"
I nodded. "Yeah… I don't talk to people." I admitted. "Like, ever. I don't start conversations unless it's absolutely necessary, and I just pretty much suck at social interactions. I have two good friends, the ones behind all this, and then their boyfriends are pretty cool too, but that's it. Although now that I mentioned it, even that might change after what they did to me tonight." I grumbled while raising my coke to my lips, only to realize that it was in fact already empty. He didn't miss the frown of mine that followed, and immediately looked for the waitress and ordered two more cokes.
It wasn't until then that I realized we had been here for less than an hour and I had talked to him more than I had ever talked to most of my colleagues all those years we had been working together. This was very unusual for me, to actually have a lively conversation with someone I had just met. In fact, I thought tonight was the only exception to the rule. This guy ahead of me, this guy of all those decent and kind guys that the girls had attempted to set me up with, this guy had to be the guy that made me laugh, made me blush, made my heart race and my stomach flatter. This guy had to be the guy that I wanted to get to know and spend time with. God, I wanted to spend time with the guy that I would never see again after tonight, how ironic was that? And worse yet, having him here in front of me, the dim light of the paper lantern painting dark shadows across his face, ocean blue eyes gleaming with delight as his lips were curled into a charming grin, wide enough for his white, perfect teeth to shine under them, all I wanted to do was lean closer and kiss him.
And that fact scared me to death.
"Don't be too mad at them though, okay?" he said, interrupting my thoughts.
I blinked. "Sorry, what?"
"Your friends. Don't beat them up for this too much. They seemed like they really cared for you, I'm sure they didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable in any way."
"I know, I know…" I let out with a sigh. "They just wanted me to lighten up and have some fun or whatever… And truth is I have been kind of too uptight, and I do know that I have to work on that aspect… But still, I can't believe that they made me do this. They were supposed to know me, to know how I feel about this stuff… And not only did they arrange all these without even asking me, but they basically abandoned me here against my will. They just left. I mean, how could they do this to me?"
It felt like my words hovered in the air, as silence fell between us. The switch of the mood was so sudden that I had to look up at him, confusion written all over my characteristics. And then I saw his face, and I froze. It was empty. I had never even begun to imagine someone's face could actually not express the slightest bit of emotion, but as I was looking at him right now, the emptiness of his expression had a shiver running down my spine. Confused, I then seeked for answers inside his eyes. And those eyes of his… they were a completely different story. They were like ice, transparent. I looked at them and I could see that the ice was like frozen tears. His fears, sadness, weakness, everything was trapped in those eyes. And they suddenly looked so cold, like his stare could freeze the whole world in a moment.
I had touched a soft spot. I played back my last words in my head.
They abandoned me.
They just left.
Oh, no.
His parents? Probably. To get a reaction like this with a single mention, the roots had to be tracing back to his childhood. Or some other pretty dramatic event closely after. I gulped. "I'm sorry." I mattered, and I hoped he could hear the change in my voice as well. "I'm really sorry, Jackson."
At the sound of his name he looked up at me, his eyes still cold. Detached. "For what?" he asked, the corners of his lips twisting upwards, in what looked more like a grimace than a smile. "There's nothing to be sorry for."
Well, yeah. Obviously he wouldn't want to talk about it. And of course I wouldn't pressure him, although I was rather curious as to what could have earned such reaction from him.
The unison of his hands was placed on the table, fingers tangling and untangling in a rhythmic motion. I didn't think about it much when I leaned closer and reached for it, softly brushing my fingers against his skin. I felt him immediately tense against my touch, his fingers freezing for a brief second. Then, he let out a sigh and untangled his fingers, opening his palms to hold my hand inside his own.
We didn't speak. We didn't move. The only things moving were our hands, caressing each other softly. He was looking down at them, and so was I. I traced my finger against the lines of his palm as his thumb played with my knuckles, and noticed how beautifully the colors of our skins blended together.
A long while passed before I dared a glance at his eyes, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me when I saw the warmth in them had finally returned. "Your hands are cold." He mumbled softly, breaking the silence. I noticed the left corner of his lips slightly twisted upwards and I mimicked him.
"Your hands are warm." I said in contrast. They really were. In fact, every single time he had touched me I had noticed that his hands felt so warm and soft against my skin.
And that was when the waitress appeared, so I quickly pulled my hand away and straightened my body, leaving her enough space to set down a couple of cokes in front of each one of us, as well as a steamy plate.
"Thank you." we both said at the same time and exchanged a little smile before looking away.
Once the waitress was gone, I took a moment to examine my plate. There were three large chicken fillets in the middle, above which was poured a great amount of milk cream mixed with chopped mushrooms. On each corner was also some rice, lettuce, tomatoes and potatoes and I had to admit that the decoration was amazing. It looked really delicious.
I heard a popping sound and looked up, just in time to see a little red cap falling from the inside of his forearm. His sleeve was pulled upwards again, and I could clearly see the veins of his arm popping out. I bit my lip and grabbed my own coke, holding it up to him. "I have no idea how on earth you can do that."
He looked at my hand for a moment before he shook his head. "No, you do it."
I huffed. "Yeah right, there's no way I will ever be able to do this."
"You won't know unless you try."
I huffed. "I never had you as the cheesy-motto type."
He flashed me a crooked smile, his eyes deep into mine. "People can surprise you." He exclaimed, and it sure seemed like there was a double meaning in that sentence of his but I didn't think much of it.
Instead I broke our gaze to look down at the bottle in my hands and frown. "I'm not nearly strong enough to open this." I complained.
"But it doesn't need strength. Just the right technique." He said, and placed the cap back on his coke. "Here, I show you. Place the bottle on you forearm like this." He instructed, pressing the cap against his skin. My dress had no sleeves, so I copied his movement at once. "Good. Now's the tricky part."
I gulped. "There's a tricky part?"
He smirked and winked at me. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you got this."
Sweetheart.
From deep inside my chest, through every cell of my body, the warmth took over every cell of my being, leaving me numb in the sweetest of ways.
"Okay, so if you just twist it as it is, it's gonna be hell of a lot painful." He noted, but I was too busy replaying that single word inside my head to actually react any other way but by grinning like an idiot. "But, if you press it hard against your arm and then twist it…" he trailed off and executed the act, making a popping sound with his lips.
Sweetheart.
Okay, stop, that's enough.
"…Can't we just ask that waitress for an opener?" I couldn't believe they hadn't brought us one in the first place.
"No. Now, come on." He urged me on, pulling down his sleeve and taking a sip from his coke.
I looked down at my positioned hands and gulped. If someone had told me this morning that tonight I would be tutored on how to open up a coke with my forearm by an escort in a fancy restaurant in the middle of nowhere I would have shut them in a madhouse to rot.
With a deep breath, I pressed the bottle on my arm with all of my strength, and then slowly twisted it against it.
The piercing pain shot up fast. "Ouch!" I shrieked and the bottle almost fell from my hand.
"Are you okay?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
I sighed. "Told you I couldn't do it."
He shook his head. "Of course you can. You just need some practice."
"Practice on opening bottles?" I asked amused. "You do realize how crazy that sounds right?"
"Not crazier than 'I want you to not do what I want, so you shouldn't do what I want but you also shouldn't do what I don't want because then you'll be doing what I want and-"
"Okay, okay, I got it." I cut him off. "And I don't talk like that." The voice he had used to mimic me had been too high and pierced it was annoying.
"No. No you don't." he agreed. "Okay, just one more try, and then if you can't do it I'll open it for you. Sounds good?"
I glared at him. Why was he making my life so sweetly difficult? "Fine." I grumbled and placed the bottle against my forearm again.
"Hold it more vertically. And twist it very quickly." He instructed.
"Okay coach." He chuckled.
With another deep breath I shut my eyes closed and repeated my earliest movements, but when I came to the twisting part I moved my hand as quickly as I could.
And then I heard a popping sound.
When I opened my eyes back up, I saw the cap falling to my lap, the smell of freshly opened coke reaching my nostrils. I picked up the cap baffled, noticing it had a little white spot on one side, and I looked up at Jackson opened mouthed. He was wearing an enormous, proud smile. "I did it?" I asked in shock.
"Damn right you did."
It was so stupid and childish to get excited about something so small like this, but at the realization of my accomplishment I felt pure joy bubbling up inside my chest, the excitement racing through my veins. "Yes!" I cheered, throwing my hands up in the air.
But when my stupid, clumsy self realized I was still holding an open bottle of coke in my palm, it was already too late. A good amount of liquid left the opening and landed right on top of him. But like, everywhere.
He blinked twice, coke dripping from his wet eyelids, his nose, his jaw…
And then came the freaking out. "Oh my God, Jackson, I'm so sorry!" I cried, instantly jumping up from my seat and sprinting over there to help him. How though, I had no idea. Stupid, clumsy self! "Are you okay? Oh no, I ruined your clothes didn't I? I'm so sorry! So, so, so sorry! I didn't mean to, just my stupid… Ugh, I'm sorry!" I grabbed a napkin and started mopping his face as quickly as I could. "I should have just let you open it anyways, I can't believe I was stupid enough to-"
"April! April, stop. It's fine, I'm okay, calm down. It's nothing." He assured me with a chuckle.
"No, it's not nothing, you're covered in coke!" I insisted, grabbing more napkins.
"I'm not covered in coke, it was just a couple of drops."
"No it wasn't, it was like half the bottle, and God, you must be so cold, you'll freeze to death! You'll get pneumonia and they'll have to put you on antibiotics for, like, ever and you'll have to stay in the hospital for tests for more than a week and they charge so much you have no idea."
He snorted. "How do you even know this stuff?"
"I'm a surgeon, okay, so just trust me, you'll freeze to death, that thing came straight from the freezer and you can't have it all over your body, you'll get sick!"
"April."
"And plus it's coke so it will stink so bad. Wait, not stink , like, it smells bad, I meant stick, like it's sticky, you know?"
"April-"
"Cause you could never stink, I mean, have you smelled yourself? You smell so incredibly-"
"April!" He grabbed my hand and spun me around, and before I could even begin to comprehend what was happening, I was sitting on his lap, his face inches away from mine. "Calm down." He muttered. "Really, it's okay."
I blinked and my rambling instantly stopped. I was on his lap. He was holding me, his hands were both around my waist now. My left side was entirely touching against his body, his chest, and my hands… my hands were still holding napkins against the sides of his face.
I am touching his face.
I let the napkins fall and bit my lip. "I'm sorry." I whispered softly, and began retrieving my hands, when his one hand came and took hold of my right one. Slowly, he brought our hands up his face again so that my palm was cupping his cheek.
"See?" he murmured. "Dry."
The second his hand fell down, letting my own alone on his cheek, I felt the utter urge to explore. To touch him. And when I looked into his eyes, I noticed they were darker than I had ever seen them. He was looking at me with such tension, and I had no idea what that meant, but it somehow made up my mind.
And so I let my fingers unfreeze from their spot and he instantly closed his eyes as they traced patterns down his jawline, up his temples, along his eyebrows, brushing against his eyelashes and then down his nose. "You have freckles?" I whispered in surprise, as I caressed the little dark marks on his skin softly.
He smiled but didn't respond, bringing my attention down to his lips. I bit my own, debating on whether I should let myself touch them or it would get us too far. He really seemed to be enjoying this too, though, and so at last I let my fingers go lower and lower, until they were at the corner of his mouth. And then slowly, I brushed them against his lips as softly as I possibly could.
They were so soft. Like literally, his lips felt like feathers and they were impossibly even warmer than his hands. And then he slightly opened his mouth and let out a breath, which –extremely warm too- tickled my fingers, making my entire body shiver in response. I felt the warm wisp of air hit against my face, and I inhaled in response.
And, God, I thought I had found heaven.
His breath smelled so fresh but sweet at the same time. It reminded me of late spring, the scent of flowers mixed up with watermelon and just a tiny bit of salty ocean breeze . But with a strong dose of coke too. And all I wanted was to just lean closer and breathe more in… I wanted more, I wanted…
I wanted to kiss him.
I needed to kiss him.
But… but he didn't want that too, did he? And I was not going to do anything with him because only I wanted to. I was not going to take advantage of him like that. He had to want it too.
I let my hand fall to my lap. My fingers suddenly felt too cold, but I ignored the feeling. I ignored all the feelings. The feeling of my blood burning as it run through m veins, the feeling of warmth crawling up my chest, the feeling of tension in my belly, and above all the feeling of my pulse pounding like crazy in between my legs. I knew what that last one meant, and I also knew I had to get away from him before I did something stupid.
"The food is getting cold!" I suddenly blurted out and untangled his hands from my waist, jumped up from his lap and quickly made my way to my seat. I sat down, looking at my plate and focusing on my food as if it suddenly was the center of my universe and I had eyes for it and it only. I took a bite, barely tasting the food as my mind was running a thousand miles per hour. "Mmm, it's delicious!" I exclaimed without even knowing if I was lying or not, as I attacked my food like there was no tomorrow. A hard accomplishment by the way, since my stomach was already full. With butterflies.
I didn't dare look at him. How could I? I got carried away. God, I got carried away and I didn't even know how he felt about it. It might have felt horrible for him! Maybe the entire time I was enjoying myself and exploring his face he was praying for the moment I would let go off him to come as soon as possible. Maybe he couldn't wait to get out of here, away from me. Maybe I had touched him against his will… Oh dear Lord. That was sexual harassment! What did I just do?
"Why did you do that?" His voice was husky, low and rough. It made something inside me twist and turn, and the feeling was so intense I couldn't tell if it was good or bad anymore.
Oh, he was mad. He was mad, right? He hated me. I made him hate me.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"I just-" I cut myself off, tears threatening to leave my eyes. "I- I don't know, I got carried away and…" …and I had touched him against his will. I was a harasser. I was a monster. "I'm so, so sorry, Jackson, I never meant to-"
"No, no, I meant, why did you… Why did you walk away?"
Uh… What?
I blinked and my gaze flew to meet his. I was sure I heard him wrong. I mean, there was no other explanation, right?
"Why did you pull away, I was about to…" he paused. His eyes were still dark, but just a tiny bit lighter, and as they were looking into mine I saw something in them that I recognized pretty damn well. I had felt it so many times. "Am I really that bad?" he asked, the hurt of rejection clear in his voice.
I couldn't believe my ears. "What on earth are you talking about? You're… you're so…"
He shook his head. "Okay, you know what, it's fine, I get it. Don't hurt yourself. You don't feel the same way, it's fine."
I don't feel the-
What on earth…?
"Jackson, you got this all wrong, that's not why I-" I took a sharp breath. "I can't be near you, or I might…"
His eyes were on mine again, the tension in them eating me alive. I felt so many things. So many stupid, amazing things and I felt like I was going to burst any moment, like all those feelings were too much for my body to handle. And the thing was, I didn't want to hold back. I just wanted to touch him. To feel him. To kiss him.
I wanted him. All of him.
And what choice did I have but to tell him the truth?
"You know what I'm thinking about right now?" I asked him, slowly shaking my head. "Kissing you. Standing here looking at you, and all I want to do is kiss you."
At my pathetic words, I saw his clenched shoulders instantly relax. His entire body relaxed, but his expression didn't. He wore his 'angry face' again, his eyebrows joined together, his lips curved slightly downwards. "Then why… why didn't you?"
Why didn't I… kiss him? Were we really talking about the two of us, actually kissing? And did he really sound like he actually wanted that to happen, or was I making the whole thing up?
Acting, April. It's called acting.
Right. True.
Gosh, did I say Emmy? I meant a freaking Oscar. "Because you'd be pretending for me again." I said, as if explaining it to a child for the millionth time. It sure felt like that. "And I won't do anything unless you want me to, how many times do I have to-"
"Okay, okay, stop." He cut me off, holding up his hands. I stopped talking and just studied him for a moment. His lips were pressed together in a straight line, but there was something about those eyes of his that just… It seemed like he was frustrated but relieved at the same time, and I had no idea what to make out of that. "I really think it's time for that deal I mentioned earlier, remember that?"
I nodded, frowning. Now I was really curious to hear what that could possibly have to do with anything.
"Okay, here it goes. So as for my part…" he trailed off and his gaze met mine again I felt the anticipation building up inside my chest. "I am honest." He said, his lips curling into a small smile. "I am true. I don't pretend, I drop the act, I don't lie, I'm not a paid escort, I'm just… I am me." He concluded, and I just stood there staring like an idiot.
Was I hearing correctly? It seemed like I was hearing correctly. But then again I bet I wasn't, because this looked like the deal of a lifetime and yet I had no idea why he was possibly offering it to me. "You don't have to-"
"I want to." He said, slightly shaking his head. "Okay? This is what I want. I want to be true. I want to… I want to just be me with you."
I frowned. Now he really made no sense. What reason did he have to want that? With me? What did that even mean? He acted as if he actually… I don't know, felt something for me, and I mean, we all know how completely and utterly insane and irrational and impossible that was. "And what about my part of the deal?" I asked nonetheless, baffled.
"Oh, that's the hard part." He said with a sad smile. "You have to actually believe me."
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