Authors: Kylie Kaemke
“Why are you going to stay? It’s not like you even know anyone here…” I can’t tell yet how I feel about him being here when Malcolm gets back. On the one hand I don’t want to have to explain Simon to Malcolm, but on the other hand I want Simon to be as jealous as possible, and seeing Malcolm in all his perfect glory he will definitely feel envy.
“Well, I know you, don’t I?” He gives me the big puppy dog eyes and I can feel myself beginning to melt. I need to get away from him before he has me completely under his spell again.
“Do as you please.” I scold, being as distant and uncaring as possible. “I need to go mingle with my guests.” I leave him standing there like a lost child as he scans the room. He’s most likely searching for Adam or Suzette, but he won’t find them. They had important wedding stuff to conduct, as the maid of honor I should really be with them,
but they couldn’t get out of their appointment with the dress designer who is booked solid for the next six months, and I obviously wasn’t getting out of my own birthday party. We agreed that it was okay to spend this one apart, and I would be with Suzette when the dress was ready for her to try on; so that’s something at least. The wedding is in two months already so everything is a little rushed. They just said they can’t wait to get married and want to do it this summer. No one argued.
****
Most of the guests have begun to leave. It’s roughly quarter to nine now and the only stragglers left are a couple close friends of mother's, the few cousins that are staying in the house, and Simon; who is now chatting up my youngest cousin Cassandra
Hopsfield. We aren’t too close since her father, Dennis, doesn’t really like our family too much. I’m not too thrilled about the two of them talking. She’s always been a boy-stealer. But I shake it off because that really shouldn’t bother me at all, he’s not mine.
Simon spots me from across the room as I stare at the ornate grandfather clock against the wall behind him. He puts his hand up to Cassie signaling for her to stop and his lips move mumbling something I cannot hear as he starts to move toward me. She doesn’t look pleased as she crosses her thin ar
ms and scowls in my direction.
“He’s late isn’t he…
well, looks like you’ll just have to spend the evening with me then.” He says smugly.
“He’s not late it’s not even nine yet.” I spit back. He looks me up and down. His gaze on me feels electric and
I can feel my knees weakening.
“So… what kind of date is this exactly?” He asks. At some point during the evening I slipped away to shower and change my clothes. I figured even though I have no intentions of being with Malcolm I didn’t need to let Simon know that;
so I got all dolled up to spite of him. I teased my hair, made up my face, and threw on my skimpiest leopard print bikini – which if you ask me looks more like lingerie – and just a sheer long black beach shirt that stops right before my knees. I feel silly with his eyes on me now and realize that I probably went a little overboard.
“We’re taking a romantic stroll along the beach, if you must know.” I say, distracted by the thought that I might have enough time to change if I run up to my room now. But as quickly as I think it
Malcolm walks through the door.
His attire has also changed. He ditched his suit for a pair of worn-out jeans, and a button
ed down short sleeved Catalina blue shirt – unbuttoned at the top to expose his curly light brown chest hair – very handsome.
To fit in with my charade to make Simon jealous I excitedly skip over to Malcolm, throwing my arms around his neck and giving him a pe
ck on his freshly shaved cheek.
“Malcolm!” I shriek in my annoying bratty girl voice. I’m going to make myself sick. I can’t believe how I’m acting. If I wasn’t putting on a show I would barely be able to speak to him, let alone touch him. I need to tone it down, but
it's as if my ‘on’ switch has been pressed by this spiteful version of myself and there is no turning it off.
“Well hello. It’s nice to see you again too.” Malcolm exclaims looking at me in shock. I sense that he can tell that I’m putting on some sort of foolish act, but he just
smiles and shakes it off. “Are you ready to go then?” He wonders, looking me up and down in the same electrifying way that Simon had just done; then I remember Simon.
“Yeah yea, let’s go.” I grab his arm and try to pull him back through the doorway as fast as I can, but I’m not quick enough.
“Hello there, I’m Simon.” He has his hand reaching out for a handshake, and Malcolm politely accepts it.
“Malcolm.” He replies and shakes Simon’s hand firmly, “nice to meet you Simon.” He finishes and looks to me for any explanation. I suppose I should say something rather than stand there just watching these two gorgeous men sh
ake hands as I become flushed.
“Oh, right. Malcolm, this is my
friend
from London. He was just in town for my birthday, he’ll be leaving now.” I glare at Simon. Trying to force him to take the hint and just leave.
“Well… actually I’m in town a little longer,” he goes on to correct me, “and Lu
cy, love, I’m not just a friend,” he turns to Malcolm and grins, “I’m her ex-lover.” I can feel my face turn bright red as he puts an emphasis on the word “lover”.
“Oh?” Malcolm responds l
ooking my way like a lost dog.
“Well, yes. But… that’s ancient history. Can we go now?” I plead quickly with Malcolm as I tug on his arm trying to move us out the door
.
“I guess if less than a year is ancient, then I suppose you’d be correct.” Simon pu
lls Malcom’s attention back in.
“A year huh?
Well you must not have been that good if she’s already seeing other guys.” I stare in awe at Malcolm’s boldness and Simon’s embarrassment. “Come on Lucy, let’s head out.” We leave Simon standing in the doorway speechless. Suddenly I am very in tune to Malcolm. Something about the way he was able to get Simon to shut up has my blood boiling in the best kind of ways. Is it being dramatic if I call him my hero?
Chapter 13
We walk on the beach in silence for a few moments, but luckily Malcolm is the first to break it.
“So, Simon huh?” Not the question I wanted to answer, but I suppose I owe him some sort of explanation.
“Yeah… I’m sorry about him. Really I am. Honestly though, he broke my heart a long time ago and I did not invite him here. He just showed up.” I reveal, hoping that it’s enough.
“I see. Well, if he broke your heart I won’t make you talk about him,” he offers. “But, if you’d like… I can break something of his to repay him for hurting you?”
Oh my… “Um, no… that’s not necessary.” I squeak. I’m shocked at his words and am unsure what exactly to make of them.
“You’re right.” He utters, and I’m washed with relief. “I should be thanking him for his stupidity. After all, if he didn’t leave you I wouldn’t have the chance to do this…” he stops me in my tracks and holds me by my shoulders. I stand there, planted in the sand, confused by his words. But then his anxious gaze burns into my eyes, his arms wrap around my neck and into my hair as he sweetly kisses me.
I’m taken back by his forwardness and I pull away in awe. Realizing he is probably feeling rejected by my actions, as he drops his arms and stares at me with a pained look, I try to rectify the situation.
“Oh… no… no no no. I um, I’m sorry. It’s okay, I was just shocked. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Stumbling over my words I try to explain to him that I wasn’t rejecting him. I liked the way he kissed me, but it was the first kiss since Simon, and was just stunned by it. He interrupts my stammering by attempting his endeavor one more time. This time I welcome it as his lips find mine. They are ambitious and absolute as they press into me so intensely.
His hands begin to move south and find a resting place in the small of my back as he pulls me up so he can kiss me deeper; his firm tongue has now found its way to meet mine and I feel like this is starting to be too much. I remember what my cousin, Kathleen, said about Malcolm being a womanizer and I have to cease this.
I pull away again, but not as fast this time. I place my palms on his chest, getting my fingers tangled in his soft hairs, and push back on him gently to signal I need a break.
“Sorry,” he mumbles looking down at my hands. “You, Lucy, you’re just so alluring I can’t help myself. I feel like I need to touch you every second or I’m going to die.” His words feel so sincere, but they confuse me.
Who exactly am I to him?
“But, you don’t even know me…?”
“Of course I know you.”
“Yeah, but I mean you don’t know me now… who I am today.”
“No, but I want to.” His words make my heart jump.
“Lucy, I know that it’s been over a decade since we last held hands on this beach,” he takes my hand in his. “But I can tell you that I’ve always had a crush on you. From back then when I thought all girls but you had cooties, and all through the years when your grandmother had been filling me in on your life every summer I’d visit. I feel like I know you better than anyone.”
All night this man has been stunning me, but this floors me. I don’t even know how to respond to his confessions. I have a mixture of guilt, confusion, and distrust; after all this could be a play to get me in bed. I can’t seem to find any words to speak so I just give him a puzzled look and wait for him to continue.
“Lucy Whitten, I feel like most of my life has been spent waiting for you to return, and trying to become a man worthy of your love.” All that runs through my mind is…
what?
“I’m not sure if traveling all over the world and sleeping with a bunch of hot bitches is the way to become worthy of my love… I mean, really?” My confusion is teetering towards anger. I suppose I should be flattered, but something seems so delusional about what he is saying that I’m becoming offended.
“Excuse me?” He is now the one being offended as he picks up on my attitude. “Yes, I travel a lot, and yes I keep a lot of female company… but I don’t sleep around.” He tries to convince me, but I don’t buy it. What man wouldn’t bang every super model he could?
“That’s not what the internet and magazines say.” I fight back, I’m not giving into him until I can actually believe him, and I so want to believe him. I would just die right here if what he was saying was true. I mean, I don’t think I’m anything special, but if he wants to go ahead and believe that I am then I’ll play along. If Kathleen hadn’t warned me about his whorish ways I would be melted into a soft puddle in the sand at his charming words. But I have to remain strong and remember it is an act. He wants something that I am not too eager to hand out these days.
“Well, the fact that you believe tabloids tells me that I may be wrong about you.” His words sting like a slap across my face, and I can’t help but think that he may be right. It’s their job to spread rumors and start scandals, I really am not the type to judge a person I don’t even know and I am suddenly appalled at myself for taking Kathleen’s advice to heart. Clearly she was jealous from the beginning and would have told me anything to get me to steer clear of him. I shake my head to clear my negative thoughts and think of a good enough apology to offer up.
“I… I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t be listening to what other people say. It’s just… it doesn’t make much sense for someone like you to be so interested in someone like me,” is the best I can offer. He stares back at me, smirking, but shaking his head left to right.
“Silly girl. There is no difference between the two of us. No ‘someone like me and someone like you’ we are just two people looking to be happy in life. For a few years now I have been waiting for the right chance to find you and tell you how I feel. I wanted to wait until you were done with high school, but then you left the country, and when you came back you were busy with school. The opportunity was never in my favor, so I patiently waited. I have made a lot of friends over the years, but nothing more.” He confesses. I feel a little silly standing here in front of a man that I just met, again, this afternoon – who seems to know so clearly that he has feelings for me – who claims he knows me so well through photos and stories offered up by my dear grandmother; and silly childhood moments. I am in awe and not much can be said on my part but a simple “Okay.”
“Okay,” he offers back. “Well… how about we lighten the mood a little. What do you say we put the mouthwatering bathing suit you’ve so graciously decided to wear to some use and take a little nighttime swim?” A swim would be nice, the water feels so inviting on my toes as the tide runs up the beach.
“You’re not wearing any trunks.” I point out.
“No, but I have boxers on… which are almost like trunks.” He smiles as he starts to unbutton his shirt; revealing a very well taken care of body. I stand frozen watching him undress until he is standing before me in nothing but a pair of all black boxers looking like one of the models they plaster on the sides of the Abercrombie and Fitch bags. He doesn’t hesitate at all when he comes in close, grabs the hem of my long shirt, and pulls it over my head so I’m only in my bikini. I feel naked and embarrassed as his eyes wander over every inch of my bare skin; which is a lot of inches I might add.
His demeanor towards me is very comfortable. Like he’s practiced being around me and isn’t afraid of anything I will do. It’s as if he already knows me so well that he is his true self and nothing more. He doesn’t feel the need to be guarded around me, or even to impress me for that matter. He’s just himself and nothing more.