UnWritten

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  He cleared his throat. Guess I wasn’t the only one who felt the sexual energy ramp up.

  “So, uh, where is the restaurant?” I had to shake myself a little bit before I could give him directions.

  The place was on the top floor of a building and the rickety stairs that led upward gave the impression it was a dive.

  But then we were greeted by a woman in a crisp white shirt and black skirt who asked if we had a reservation. I’d made one, so I told her my name and she led us through a shiny mahogany door and into the restaurant. Normally I didn’t go for modern décor, but the white, slate and brass colors blended together and made the place feel less like a spaceship and more like a futuristic home.

  “Impressive,” Declan said, his hand on my back as we followed the hostess through the maze of white tables. As usual, the place was busy even though it didn’t look like it from the outside. They definitely thrived on being exclusive. The only people who found their way here were locals and those who’d heard by word of mouth.

  I already knew what I wanted to order, but I looked at the menu anyway to see if they’d added anything new.

  “Let you in on a secret,” I said, leaning over the table to get closer to Declan. He leaned forward and before I knew what was happening, he planted a kiss on my lips.

  “I’m sorry, what were you saying? I got distracted,” he said. I bit my lip and tasted his mouth.

  “Um, I was going to say that I never order an entrée here. I just get a million appetizers. But that was before you kiss ambushed me.”

  He arched one pale eyebrow. “Am I in trouble now?”

  “So much trouble,” I said, narrowing my eyes so he would know I was serious. “No more kissing for you, mister.”

  He stuck his bottom lip out and it reminded me so much of something Drake would do, I laughed so loud I got angry glares from some of the other tables. This wasn’t the kind of place you had a barrel of laughs. Most of the talk was subdued and decorous. No laughing or smiling.

  “Are you pouting?” I asked as soon as I got my giggles under control.

  “Maybe.” His pout transformed into a smile and he reached for my hand across the table.

  “Have I also told you how much I enjoy being with you?”

  “Same here. It’s nice to talk to someone other than Raine or the imaginary people in my head. Oh my God, that makes me sound crazy. Ignore what I just said.” I picked up my menu again and hid my face with it.

  “No, no. Tell me about it. I want to know. What’s it like inside the mind of a writer?”

  “Are you really sure you want to know?”

  “Abso-bloody-lutely,” he said.

  Over fried calamari, grilled artichoke hearts, duck confit, polenta with mushrooms and an artisanal cheese plate, I told Declan what it was like to be a writer. He was silent as he listened, only making comments here and there.

  “Basically it’s like having a bunch of imaginary friends that won’t shut up. And as soon as we get one story finished, another comes along. I’ve just decided I have to live with it.”

  “That’s extraordinary. And fascinating. I wonder what your brain would show if they did a scan. Not that I’m suggesting you do that, or that there is anything abnormal about your brain. Bugger it.” He’d gotten flustered and it was so adorable, I wanted to ambush kiss him.

  Instead, I speared the last piece of calamari on my fork and popped it in my mouth.

  “You’re funny. I’m glad I’m not the only one who gets flustered.” His face was definitely red, made even more obvious by the fact that the rest of him was so pale.

  “I made the Brit blush. I win,” I said.

  “You’re just making it worse.” He copied my actions from earlier and picked up the wine list and covered his face with it.

  I snorted with laughter and three seconds later, a waitress came over to our table and told us to pipe down. She didn’t say it exactly like that, but the meaning was clear. We were disturbing the other diners with our ridiculousness.

  “I’m thinking we should do dessert after the other thing we’re doing tonight,” I said, almost slipping and ruining the surprise of the play.

  “I think that is a wise idea. I swear that woman behind you is going to leap out of her seat and stab me with that tiny salad fork and I’d rather not get blood all over the floor. I’m sure they frown upon that here.” That made me laugh again and Declan motioned for the check so we could get out of there before we did any more damage to the peace and quiet.

  “So, where are we going now?” Declan said as we got back into his car without further disturbing the patrons at the restaurant.

  “I’ll tell you. Turn left when you get to the stop sign.” He made an impatient noise.

  “Hey, I had to put up with you doing the same thing on our first date. Turnabout is fair play.” I was right and he knew it. “You lose, Mr. Bennet.”

  “Not fair, Blair. Not fair.”

  “Here?” Declan asked as we drove by the high school auditorium. Our town valued the arts so much they’d funded and built a theater that would put Broadway to shame, and it was separate from the rest of the school. I hadn’t gone to school here, but I wished I had.

  The parking lot was packed, and Declan was definitely confused when he pulled in, until he saw the giant banner advertising the show.

  “A high school play?”

  “Yeah,” I said, realizing what a stupid idea it was. Damn. I’d miscalculated. “We can do something else. It was just an idea.”

  “No, no. That’s not what I mean. I’ve never seen a high school play. We didn’t do things like that at the schools I went to.” He didn’t have to say more than that. I knew from the way he spoke, and from the dossier, that he’d gone to elite private schools where the only plays anyone would put on would be dramatic readings of Shakespeare or a long-dead romantic poet.

  “I would love to escort you to the play,” he said. His voice did all kinds of things to my body. Could an accent be an aphrodisiac? If so, his definitely fell into that category.

  “You would? You don’t think it’s dumb to the power of lame?” This time he snorted with laughter.

  “Even if the play was, you would never be dumb to the power of lame. Ever.” Aw, well. That was definitely nice to hear.

  When Declan said he was going to escort me, he meant it.

  “Good evening, madam. I’ve heard you are in need of an escort for the theater.” He exaggerated his accent, making it sound totally snooty.

  “Why yes, I believe I am. I’m waiting for Prince Harry, but he seems to be late. You’ll do.” I gave him my hand and he pulled me to my feet and rested my arm in the crook of his.

  “Ah, so you’re a fan of the redheaded prince,” he said as we walked toward the auditorium, avoiding potholes in the parking lot. I should have worn better shoes, but I wanted to be cute.

  “Who isn’t? I mean, no offense to William. I’m sure he’s lovely, but Harry has that something. That naughty twinkle in his eye.” Declan looked at me and I saw the same mischievous glint in his eyes.

  “Before you ask, yes, you have it too.”

  He pulled me closer and kissed the side of my head.

  “Good to know.”

  The play was actually better than I’d thought it would be, with most of the kids having good voices. They hadn’t messed around when it came to the production. The costumes were amazing, and the set wasn’t slapped together either. I found myself singing along with many of the songs and I couldn’t sit still for the dance numbers. Declan appeared to be entertained, laughing in the right parts and tapping his foot to the beat for some of the jauntier tunes.

  “Are you having a good time?” I asked during the short intermission as we strolled into the lobby in search of baked goods. We found a table overflowing with brownies and cupcakes and other confections.

  “I am. What would you like?” He motioned to the table and I wanted to say “everything”, but I picked a chocolate cupcak
e and a blondie.

  “What about you?” He held up a brownie and a chocolate chip cookie.

  “Abso-bloody-lutely.” We made our way out of the building to get some air and found a bench near the front of the school to sit on while we had our snacks.

  “So, is this your first live musical theater experience?” I asked as I bit into the cupcake. It was definitely made from a box, with canned frosting, but it was still damn delicious.

  “I have to say that it is, and it’s a lot better than I thought it would be. I had visions of people dressed as cats leaping about and singing to the moon.” I shuddered. I wouldn’t even talk about that musical. It was a blight on the rest of theater. It should be forgotten about and never spoken of.

  “Yeah, there are no cats in this one. Just a lot of dancing pioneers that think kidnapping is totes okay, as long as you’re in love and singing about it,” I said.

  “Yes, I did find the kidnapping part a little suspect. It’s quite terrible if you think about it.”

  “True, but it’s a musical. You’re not supposed to think about it too hard. You’re just supposed to enjoy it and feel happy afterwards. Oh, and wake up in the middle of the night singing the words to all the songs.” That was definitely going to happen to me tonight. Raine was going to kill me.

  Declan and I munched our snacks and talked more about the show, and how good the boy playing number one brother Adam was and how he definitely was headed for greatness.

  The rest of the show was magical, and I had to admit I shed a tear when Adam and Millie finally declared their love for one another and embraced.

  I was one of the first to my feet for the standing ovation and Declan popped up right after me, putting his fingers to his mouth and whistling. I’d always wished I could do that, but never figured out how.

  “Fabulous!” Declan yelled over the cheers. A wide smile adorned his face and I couldn’t help staring at his radiant features. So beautiful, that man.

  We waited for the crowd to disperse before we headed out to Declan’s car.

  “So,” I said, putting my seatbelt on.

  “So,” he echoed. “I’m not quite ready for the evening to be over yet. Would it be all right with you if we kept it going?” I could only nod. Oh yes, it was more than okay.

  This time I’d planned ahead of time and booked a room at a local hotel just in case.

  “Not that I was expecting anything,” I said as we rode up to our floor in the elevator. “I just wanted to be prepared.”

  “Believe me, I’m happy you’re prepared. Very happy indeed.” He squeezed my hand and I had the urge to jump him in the elevator, but the doors opened and he dragged me toward our room.

  “Tell me again how good at sex I am,” I said, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth as he pressed me against the wall just outside the room.

  “Very good,” he said into my mouth as he fiddled with the room key and shoved the door open. His expression suddenly changed like a traffic light flashing from green to red.

  “But, I’m not sure if I remember correctly now. I think you might have to refresh my memory a bit.” Oh, I knew what he was doing, but I was going to play along.

  “Well, first we need to get your clothes off,” I said, kneeling down to remove his shoes and socks, before rising so our bodies touched, chest to chest. His mouth descended on mine and started to devour me, drinking me in long gasping sips, as if he was dying of thirst.

  “Yes, it was something like that,” he said, pulling away suddenly. “But the next part is still hazy.” His hands dragged down my back and grasped my ass, squeezing and causing a flood of heat to race through me.

  “I think I can refresh your memory,” I said, running my hands down the front of his shirt and stroking his growing hardness.

  “Yes, I know what I need to do now.”

  “How could I have forgotten that?” he said a little while later as we lay in a lust soaked post-coital haze.

  “I have no idea. I definitely won’t forget it.” The sex had been just as potent as the first night. Maybe even more so. This casual thing seemed to be working in both our favors. As long as neither of us developed irreversible feelings, we were good.

  “You’re lovely in this light,” he said. We’d only turned on one lamp and the glow was almost like a candle.

  “You’re lovely in any light. You know, you’re downright pretty for a man.” He walked his fingers up and down my hip. “Does that emasculate you? To be called pretty?”

  “No. They called me that in school sometimes. Pretty Boy Bennet. I hated it at the time, but you can call me whatever you want, Blair.”

  “Good. Then I’m going to start calling you Pretty Boy Bennet when I climax.” He snorted. “Occupational hazard of being a romance writer. Being open about sex.”

  “That I don’t mind either. My wi—my ex, she was, ah, always uptight about that sort of thing. Sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about her at this particular moment.” His eyes traced my tattoos.

  “No, it’s okay. I’m not your girlfriend so I have no right to be offended. I don’t mind.” I honestly didn’t. I could tell he didn’t talk about her much to anyone, and had probably bottled a lot of feelings up. It wasn’t good to do that. I had Raine to be the person I shared all my innermost thoughts with and I didn’t think he had someone to do that for him. If I could fill that role, even temporarily, I’d do it.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes. Go ahead.” I moved closer to him and he lay his head next to mine. We were close enough to kiss, but we didn’t.

  “She was beautiful, of course, and my parents approved of her. She was everything they wanted for me, or at least she seemed that way on the surface. People rarely are who they show to the world. Except you. You’re exactly who you are, all the time.”

  I blushed at the praise.

  “Yeah, well, it isn’t easy being me in my family. It would have been much easier to go along to get along,” I said.

  “Easier, yes, but you didn’t choose the easy path.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  I shook my head.

  “No, absolutely not. I’d rather be less close with my family and be myself than the other way around. And you can’t hide who you are forever.”

  “No. No you can’t, which is what happened with her.” He couldn’t say her name. It didn’t matter, I knew what it was and he didn’t have to say it.

  “Did it start out okay at least?” I wanted to know that they’d had at least some happy moments together.

  He smiled, briefly. “It did. She was beautiful and charming and fun and we had a good time together. But then she got pregnant. She swore she was on the pill and we’d always used protection. I’ve never been able to prove it, but I think she may have let it happen. Or at least lied to me about preventing it.” Damn, that was even worse. Conceiving a child to keep your man? That was the lowest of the low.

  Declan continued. “She loved Drake at first, and we had some of our best days just after he was born. But she grew bored staying at home with him and she never did well on little sleep. Soon it was clear that we were over, but I tried to save us, for Drake. He deserved two parents. But then . . .” he trailed off and couldn’t finish. I kissed his shoulder.

  “You don’t have to tell me everything. I just want you to know that if you want to talk with me about this, you can. Anytime. Well, maybe not mid-coitus. But any other time.”

  He twirled some of my hair between his fingers.

  “Thank you, Blair. It feels good to talk to someone. I don’t really have anyone I feel comfortable discussing this with.” I felt like a bad person for bringing her up, but I had to know.

  “What about Ada?” I cringed just saying her name. “You seem like you’re close.” I was totally fishing and I felt terrible for it.

  “Ada?” he said as if he’d never given her a second thought. “No, no. She just works for me. It’s a bit awkward
, really. She’s a family friend and my father called in a favor and asked me to hire her. I really shouldn’t let him get away with so much. But his kind heart knows no bounds. Even when people don’t deserve it.” Ah, that was interesting. I didn’t know that he and Ada had connections.

  “Oh, well, she seems to enjoy her job.” This was a lie and we both knew it.

  “She enjoys pretending to play house. Believe me, I am fully aware of what she is trying to do and it won’t work,” he said. I knew he was smart.

  “But you just let her go ahead and think that? I mean, I’m not her biggest fan, but maybe it would be better to sever ties and call it good.” Declan sighed as if he’d thought the same thing a thousand times.

  “I would, but I don’t want to upset my father. We have a small circle of friends and even the smallest ripple will be felt for years and could affect his business. So I keep my mouth shut and try to send her as many hints as possible.”

  “Well buddy, I think you need to send more than hints. Because that girl thinks she’s going to be the next Mrs. Bennet.” I shuddered at the thought and so did Declan.

  “She’s not stupid. Not at all. She’ll figure it out. My other method of turning her off has been to introduce her to as many eligible men as possible. God, that woman is exhausting.” He rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache.

  “You poor thing, I had no idea.”

  “Don’t pity me too much. Some wouldn’t pity me at all. On the surface, I have everything,” he said.

  “Money isn’t everything.”

  “No, it isn’t,” he agreed. “Family is.”

  “Amen.”

  We spent some time talking of other things and then we both decided we were hungry, so we ordered room service.

  “Bugger, this means I need to put pants on,” he said after he hung up with the hotel kitchen.

  “You could answer the door naked. Give whoever brings the food a thrill. I’m sure you wouldn’t be the first one to do it.” He slipped out of bed and pulled his pants on, covering his marvelous backside. I grieved for the visual loss.