Chapter 11 #2
A waiter arrives at our table with a bottle of champagne and six crystal glasses.
Denham flashes me a wink as he takes the bottle from the waiter.
Skilfully twisting and letting the cork out with a soft pop, he pours the champagne into the glasses.
He hands me the first one and purposefully brushes my fingers with his, before making sure everyone else has a drink in hand.
“I’d like to propose a toast.” Denham clears his throat before proceeding “To Arianna, new beginnings and a happy future.”
Everyone agrees and we chink glasses, then Lottie announces, “To my bestie. Thank god I got you back. All my other friends suck!” Everyone bursts with laughter.
It feels weird. Good weird. It’s surreal to be here, drinking a toast to what’s to come with my nearest and dearest and new friends that look set to be part of my future.
It’s a situation I never allowed myself to dream it could happen.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve held very little hope for the happiness of my future until now.
I’m overwhelmed and I feel my eyes start to gloss over.
For all of the days I’ve had that are worth forgetting, this is, without a doubt, one to remember.
I wipe away the stray tear that is sliding down my cheek, and it triggers a hug response from the women either side of me.
I’m squashed between them, their arms wrapped around me, and it’s the best feeling a girl could wish for.
“It’s just the beginning for you, Ari,” Lottie murmurs.
I nod in agreement. I hope so, I truly hope so.
I feel a foot against my leg under the table and look up to find a gentle smile from Denham.
I lift my foot to tangle with his and he breaks into a sexy grin.
I want to kiss him. I want to kiss his handsome face and tell him how happy he’s made me.
I’m not even sure if words could explain how I feel about what he’s done for me, not just this evening, but for the small time I’ve been here.
He’s healed some of the cracks. They may only be little cracks, but they’re healing nonetheless.
I realize I’ve been holding his gaze and the intensity of our exchange starts to pick up. Neither of us wants to look away, but it’s not appropriate for us to be looking at each other like this in company. He breaks first, pulling his shoulders up and downing the last of his champagne.
“Who would like more drinks?” he asks.
My mom loosens her grip around me and places a hand on Brent’s knee. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. King, but we really should be going. Leave you kids to your evening.”
“Please, no formalities. Call me Denham.”
“Thank you, Denham,” Mom says with a genuine warmth in her voice. “It’s been a wonderful evening.”
“It’s been my pleasure. You’re welcome here anytime, both of you.
” Denham dips his head toward both my mom and Brent, but I don’t miss the tightness in his smile when his eyes settle on Brent.
The pissing contest is obviously not over yet.
It’s touching that they both feel like they need to take care of me, but I need to learn to take care of myself first.
We say our goodbyes and, of course, there is a disagreement as to who will pay the bill—Brent or Denham. Both insisted, but Denham won. Brent only relented after insisting he return the favor sometime very soon, which I have no doubt that Denham will not allow him to do.
I’m reluctant to let them all go home, not being used to having them so close at hand, but knowing I can see any of them at any time is enough for me to be content with them leaving.
When we arrive back at the penthouse, Denham and I find ourselves in the same place as we were two nights ago. I’m backed into the door with Denham’s hands resting on my waist. I feel like a teenager on a first date, not knowing if the boy is going to kiss me or whether I should kiss him.
I should kiss him. I want to. I’ve wanted to all night.
It’s not like we haven’t shared kisses throughout the day, and we’ve both given them freely. Hell, we both shared a bed last night so kissing shouldn’t be awkward.
“Denham I—”
“Arianna—”
We’re both nervous for some strange reason and start to speak at the same time, halting each other in our tracks and breaking out into giggles.
“May I go first?” Denham asks. I nod. “Arianna, I know a lot of things have happened to you, and I know yesterday was hard for you. Hell, the last eight years of your life have been hard.” He pauses, seemingly trying to steer the direction onto a more positive path.
“I’m just trying to say that I know you have things to work out, but I’ve had an awesome day today and I really want to do it again soon, but only if you want to.
Don’t feel like you have to just because you’re staying here because our agreement still stands even if you don’t—”
“Denham …”
“Yes, Stunner?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
I give him no time to think or answer as I close the distance between us.
He meets me halfway, and our breath meets and mingles before he nudges my lip with his.
I need no encouragement to open up to him.
My tongue darts out to wet my lip and catches his at the same time.
It elicits a deep groan from his chest as he covers my mouth with his.
He kisses me with the fervor of a desperate man, and each time it’s like we’re kissing for the very first time, exploring each other like our lives depend on it and making every second count.
I’m pressed tight against the hardwood door, his hands tangled in my hair and mine in his.
His tongue sweeps the roof of my mouth and I think I’m going to melt.
This man can kiss.
Our breathing is hot and heavy, and the groans coming from my body are audible. I want more. Need more. Knowing we’ve already gone further than this is making me tremble with anticipation. I know it’s going to be good.
“I need you,” I whisper.
“And you’ll have me,” he answers, “but not yet. When you’re ready.”
“I’m ready. I am ready.” I try to put as much conviction into the words as I possibly can, but I know there’s a very small part of me that wants him for reassurance, for comfort.
“Ari, it’s too soon. Everything that’s happened, it’s too soon for you to make decisions like this. I don’t want you to regret it.”
I get it. I totally get it. But I’m also surer than anything that it’s something I wouldn’t regret.
“Let’s just get you properly settled, okay?” He cups my face with his hands and kisses my cheek gently. “Stop pouting, it’s taking every ounce of my self-control to do this but you need it, Ari.”
“Okay. I’ll sort things out and prove to you that I’m ready. It’s my mission.”
“Good girl. Now go and get some sleep.” He pushes off the door and frees me from being caged in-between his arms. He takes a key card from his back pocket and slides it in the door, pushing it open for me to enter. He tucks it back into his pocket and smirks at me.
“Just in case.”
I open my mouth to say something, but I have no response. I know he won’t misuse it or intrude when he’s not wanted. I trust him.
He enters, flicks all the lights on and checks the apartment. Seeming satisfied, he returns to me just inside the door and kisses my lips. It’s a firm kiss, but as platonic as he can make it. I can tell that he’s trying not to start anything again, but it’s hard to be near him and not feel charged.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Arianna. Go to bed.”
He leaves with his trademark dimple firmly in place.
I’m still smiling from the inside, and I don’t move even when the door is closed behind me.
Part of me expects him to come straight back in, but I know he has more willpower than this.
I listen out for the sound of Denham’s door closing, then I move away and head to bed.
I get undressed and slip on a tank and boy shorts before climbing between the luxurious ruby-red sheets.
I’m bone tired and sleep takes me quickly, but the night isn’t kind to me and my slumber doesn’t last nearly long enough.
A spectrum of feelings and emotions swirl in my head in such a jumble it’s hard to make sense of them all.
I toss and turn, trying to find some peace, but at 3am I finally give in and get up.
The bright moonlight lights my way to the kitchen and I can just about find my way around the cabinets.
I lift a glass from the top shelf but my hand catches on one of the other glasses as I take it out.
As I panic in the dark to try and catch it, the glass I was holding slips out of my fingertips and falls too.
“Shit.” I mutter.
Both glasses fall to the floor and smash into hundreds of little pieces all around me, the sound is deafening in the quiet of the night and it takes a few moments before it is still again. I can’t move. I have bare feet and with only the moonlight I can’t see where the glass lays.
Another loud bang makes me jump, and the front door flies open, bouncing back off the wall behind it.
“Arianna? Arianna!” Denham shouts frantically.
“Denham, be careful there’s glass everywhere.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” I call out to him.
He flicks on the lights. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?” he asks, walking toward me.
“I’m fine, I just wanted some water and the glasses fell.” I gesture to the floor covered in spiky shards.
“Don’t move,” he orders. He’s dressed in loose fitting lounger bottoms—nothing else. I watch as he starts to walk toward me, the muscles on his torso stretch and ripple as he moves.
“Denham, no! Your feet …”
He ignores my protests and navigates the large pieces of glass, but I don’t miss his body tensing as the smaller shards dig into his feet. He puts his arms around my back and dips before sweeping his other arm behind my knees and swinging my legs up, holding me close to him.
He walks back over the glass, being a little more careful now that he has me in his arms, and continues to carry me into the bedroom.
He places me down carefully in the middle of the bed and goes to the bathroom, closing the door without saying another word. He’s hurt, and it’s my fault. I give him a few minutes before I tap gently on the bathroom door.
“Denham … can I come in?” I don’t wait for an answer because I know he’ll tell me he’s fine even if he’s not. I crack open the door slowly and find him perched on the edge of the bathtub pulling tiny pieces of glass from one of his feet.
He looks up at me with a tight expression. “It’s fine, just give me a minute.”
“It’s not fine, you’re hurt. You’re bleeding.” I walk to the cabinet beneath the sink, knowing there’s a first aid kit there. I open it and pull out antiseptic wipes, then I rummage through my makeup bag and find tweezers.
I kneel down in front of him, taking his foot gently in my hand. “Here, let me.” I wince when I take a closer look at his foot. There are several nasty pieces lodged under his soft skin. “I’ll be as gentle as I can, okay?”
He nods and I watch him clench his teeth as I pinch one of the shards with my tweezers.
I pull gently, not knowing if it’s better to go slow, or get it over with quickly, but not wanting to cause any further damage also.
When the piece is out, I wipe his foot with the antiseptic, pressing down firmly to stem the bleeding.
He watches me intently, but I say nothing, not wanting him to stop me caring for him as he has for me.
After taking the last piece out and cleaning that too, I tidy everything away, then walk back to where he’s still sitting silently on the edge of the bath. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and bury my head in his neck.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
His arms slide around me and his fingers find their way under my tank to rest on my back. “Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything.”
“It’s my fault your feet are cut,” I whisper, feeling guilty.
“Don’t talk crazy, Arianna.”
“Then why are you mad?”
“You think I’m mad? Ari, I’m not mad.” He shakes his head softly.
“Then why the silent treatment?”
He shrugs. “No one other than my mom has ever cared for me like that. I don’t think anyone has ever wanted to.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I’m sad for him that no one has wanted to look after him the way he has me, but I’m also glad that no one else has done that too.
Selfishly, I want to be the only one who cares for him.
I want to tell him that I’d do it every day if he wants me too, but I don’t know where those thoughts are coming from and why.
He’s right. There is a whole tangle of things to think through, but I’m certain of one thing.
He makes everything easier just by being around.
I’m happy to let him take care of me, and I want to take care of him.
“Come on, Stunner, it’s the middle of the night and you need to rest.”
“Will you stay with me tonight?” I ask without hesitation.
“Will you sleep better if I stay?”
“Yes, the bed is too big when I’m on my own.”
I love having a huge, plush bed to myself, but after having slept with Denham wrapped around me last night, my bed feels cold and lonely without him.
Denham turns all the lights out and we climb into bed. I wriggle until my back is flush with his front, and his arm pulls me in close, his fingers lacing with mine. Our even breaths synchronize and we drift into a very peaceful sleep.