His Town

by Ellie Danes

  But I was nervous to take those few steps downstairs, walk down the long corridor of apartment doors and open the door to my father’s apartment. I was nervous about who would be on the other side when I walked through the door.

  I was nervous to re-live telling my Dad that I was seeing Ian all over again. I was nervous how he and Ben were going to react, and damn it all, I was actually pretty nervous about how I was going to react.

  I wondered if I’d bring up Ben’s bullshit deal, and the fact that I wanted to punch him in the face for it. I wondered if I would blame my dad — which honestly, I sort of did — and I wondered if I would yell and scream like a stupid teenager throwing a tantrum and make matters worse.

  I wondered how it was all going to go.

  I wondered about it so much so that I was starting to feel nauseous about it all. My stomach fluttered and jolted about like mutant butterflies were wreaking havoc inside, and I couldn’t help but laugh at myself for how quickly my mood had shifted.

  It was crazy, really.

  I had awoken to the feeling of peacefulness, with two large arms wrapped around me, and now I was starting to freak out. Out of nowhere, and all of a sudden. I sighed, Ian’s small movements and heavy breaths bringing me back to the moment.

  I smiled.

  I wondered how his arm, which was still wrapped around me from underneath me, wasn’t asleep and dying from loss of circulation.

  I felt his chest against my back, and felt his beating heart thud against my back. I could hear it tickle my ear and tick almost like a clock as it started to almost lull me back to sleep.

  My eyes were getting heavy. I knew I wanted to fall back asleep, nestled safely and warmly in his arms — but my mind wouldn’t let me. The nagging butterflies in the pit of my stomach wouldn’t cease their attack, and all of a sudden I felt another bout of nausea roll up my entire body.

  Goddammit.

  I had too much going on to ever be able to go back to sleep, whether I wanted to or not.

  A deep, heavy-winded sigh came out of Ian and blew hotly over my bare shoulders.

  I tried to fight the urge to turn around and watch him sleep. I didn’t want to be a creep, but I didn’t have the will to fight myself for too long. I turned my body over, carefully as to not hurt his arm, and faced him.

  I glanced at his beautiful, peacefully asleep face and smiled.

  He was too gorgeous for words. My eyes rolled lower to his exposed torso and I couldn’t help but bite my lip, wanting nothing more than another round. I moved slowly and silently in his arms to lay my head closer to his.

  I wanted more. But I also didn’t want to wake him up. He looked so peaceful; so at rest. For probably the first time in a long time.

  I moved my gaze back to his face, to keep my whirling arousal at bay, and studied the tiniest of lines on his forehead, they weren't from age. He was young and beautiful, as everything else reflected perfectly. I could only imagine that it was from worry or stress. I sighed. Probably job related. Which only echoed my decision to let him keep sleeping.

  His eyelashes were thick and long, lying gently across his smooth-looking skin.

  I couldn’t believe how childlike he looked as he rested; innocent, and sweet.

  I almost felt like I was intruding in on him, but somehow, I still felt no shame. None at all, actually. He was hot.

  And not only that, but he was mine.

  And this time, I felt like he was really mine.

  I wanted to savor every glance of him; soak it in for all that it was worth.

  The more I looked at him, the more I felt like I wanted to see more of him. I didn’t even know how I had slipped so far; I didn’t know how I had let myself fall for him this much. But I had. Damn it, I had.

  Hell, I wasn’t even sure I knew just how much until I looked at him sleeping, peacefully, his arms still wrapped around both sides of me as I continued to glue my eyes to his face.

  He wrinkled his nose and lifted his eyebrows, before reaching an arm out to me and pulling me close to his chest. I smiled again, a silent breath of laughter escaping my lips as they turned upwards. I almost thought he was awake for a moment. My eyes squinted, as if honing in on him to gather secretive information. I tensed, hoping that I hadn’t woken him up, as I waited for him to stir one more time.

  But he didn’t.

  I sighed again, frustrated that I actually had to move, and quietly shifted my body to the edge of the bed. I was trying to make as little movement over the large pillow-top bed as I could. I didn’t want to wake him.

  Luckily, though, it seemed because it was so form fitting, that he didn’t even feel it as I lifted myself off his arm and rolled off the bed. My feet touched the floor and I walked quietly out the bedroom door. I was still naked, and the cool air of the penthouse surrounded me, causing a tingling chill to roll up and down my back.

  I always hated having trouble sleeping. When I was younger, I remembered going to the kitchen for a late-night snack and having to move quietly as to not disturb my brother and sister or even Dad, who stayed up late working anyway.

  Some things never change.

  I exited the room as quietly as I could and made my way down the hall. I couldn’t help but look around at all the gorgeous things in the penthouse this time; to actually take in the surroundings and see where he called home.

  It was almost always somewhat vast and dark when I walked through it, now being no exception, but yet, somehow, it still was inviting.

  I felt a sort of calm wash over me at the small, almost muted amount of light that shined through the open concept suite as soon as I exited the hallway. I only remembered vaguely what it looked like when I passionately flung myself through the front door, just hours before.

  I smirked, realizing that the soft glow shining throughout the entire suite, came from a single source; the lamp in the living room. And then I realized that was probably the only light I’d ever seen on when I was inside.

  I mean, I was too distracted to notice much else, in all reality, but I was pretty sure that was the only light-level I’d ever seen on in the house except for when the sun was out and shining through the large wall-to-wall windows.

  Each footstep I made was deliberately soft as I continued my slow walk through the suite. I was starting to finally notice the things that surrounded me; the things that surrounded him each and every day. Abstract drawings and paintings caught my eye.

  “Wow,” I whispered stunned at the fact that he was an art-guy.

  I wondered if he or his dad had bought the art, because based on everything I was seeing, it seemed fitting.

  I smiled, hoping that I would get the real tour soon, so that I could ask about all of his stuff and where it came from. But in the meantime, I needed to go home. I needed to put my nerves to bed.

  I moved over to the kitchen, and searched drawer after drawer until I found a small notepad of paper and a pen. I knew I had to write some sort of letter; a note explaining why I wasn’t in bed with him, tangled up beautifully in the sheets.

  I didn’t want him to think that I was just leaving out of nowhere, or that I was upset. Because I wasn’t.

  I just didn’t want to wander about his place by myself for the next couple hours like some weirdo. I didn’t want to wait around until he woke up. Mostly because I would be bored out of my mind, but also because I really wanted him to sleep. And I wanted to go back to my Dad’s and figure out what to do, no matter how scared I was.

  I jotted down a quick, simple note: “Went downstairs to my Dad’s. Text me when you get up. I’ll see you soon,” complete with a little winky face and an XO.

  It seemed so odd. So unnatural really. But I didn’t want to risk texting him and waking him up so I just left it there, right on top of the marble countertop of his kitchen island before I hurriedly rushed around the penthouse, gathering up my clothes.

  Most were in his bedroom, and I had to fight every single fiber telling me to fulfill the incredible urg
e I had to get back in bed and have my way with him. With as silent of a groan as I could muster, I walked out and back down the hall, putting on garments as I went.

  I barely remembered anything on the way to Dad’s apartment. All I remembered was getting pissed off when My key got stuck and then clicked like a damn machine gun going off when it finally worked

  It seemed like every time I wanted to be quiet, the opposite ended up happening.

  It would have been a damned miracle if I hadn’t woken everyone up.

  It was late. Well, early, actually. Early in the morning hours. It was still dark. I knew everyone would be pissed if I woke them up at this hour. Not that I had ever had the experience.

  I was never out this late, and I couldn’t believe I was starting now — just weeks before I was supposed to move out and across the country.

  It wasn’t like me.

  I think that was part of the appeal; part of the reason I felt so alive with him. Not that he made me someone I wasn’t. He didn’t. But that he got me out of the box I’d put myself in a long time ago. It was like he gave me the opportunity to broaden my scope on life — what I wanted; what I could do; what I would do.

  As soon as I pushed the door open, and closed it behind me, I noticed a dark silhouette standing by the living room entrance.

  “Claire?” I asked quietly, almost secretly terrified that it wasn’t her.

  I couldn’t see anything through the darkness of the room, and I was already on-edge. Of course my mind would start running on the hamster wheel of paranoia.

  My arm shook as I reached for the light switch. The figure wasn’t speaking. I struggled to find it — as my hand probably slapped and slid all around the light switch. I growled, completely frustrated and still somewhat afraid, before finally fingering it and flicking it upwards.

  It revealed the figure. Completely. And I breathed heavily a great sigh of relief. It was Claire. Half asleep, leaning against the doorway of the hall facing me. Her eyes were closed. I wondered if she hadn’t fallen back asleep.

  “Why the hell aren’t you speaking to me?” I growled, my heart still pounding heavily in my chest from the previous fear.

  “I…” she started, just before a large yawn came from her depths and echoed throughout the entire hall dramatically. She waved awkwardly at me, finishing the yawn. “Jesus… I’m half asleep,” she groaned groggily.

  “Um hi…Why the hell are you up then?” I asked almost suspiciously as I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “Well, I mean, all the noise you made at the door like some crazy person made me think I was about to be murdered…” she started, but I could tell her mind was partially still jumbled.

  “I woke you up?” I asked, feeling immediately terrible. I mean, it was only four in the morning.

  Her head dropped down as she nodded her head.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” I apologized. “Where’s Dad?”

  I could only hope and pray that I hadn’t woken him up too.

  “Uh, what the hell are you doing?” she asked, finally gaining the ability to wrap her head around the situation.

  I groaned, inwardly. I guess it was also clear that she was highly suspicious. Not that it was completely unmerited. I would have been suspicious too.

  “Where’s Dad?” I repeated. She was just looking at me like I was up to something; or that I had done something.

  “He had a late night and said he was just going to sleep at the office tonight…” she mumbled, just before taking a huge yawn. “Why are you not asleep? Did you just come home?”

  “I was out,” I said plainly, with hardly any emotion in my voice whatsoever.

  I still wasn’t even sure what I wanted to tell everyone; how I wanted to break it to them; how much I wanted to tell them — because in truth, even though I knew I wanted to make it work, I wasn’t sure how. I was still moving. We still had a lot of hurdles to jump over. I didn’t know what was going to happen; and I really didn’t feel like dealing with questions I wasn’t sure how to answer.

  So instead, I tried to walk past her, without saying much of anything else.

  She raised an eyebrow as I walked closer to her spot in the hall’s doorway. “Do I even want to know?” she asked, glancing at me up and down.

  “You need to go to bed,” I whispered, before gently pulling her off the wall, toward me.

  “I don’t want to,” she yawned.

  “Clearly!” I laughed. Her eyes were already half closed again.

  But then, before I knew it, her eyes shot open again. It was almost creepy. Like something out of a horror movie. I let go of her, and watched as she fell back against the wall, her eyes still wide and locked on me.

  “Holy creepy shit!” I shrieked, before taking a step back.

  She let out a strong puff of air as she seemed to struggle with whatever words it was that she wanted to say all of a sudden. It was like she was trying to wrap her mind around something; like she thinking so hard that she was stumbling over herself. It was like she didn’t know what was going on. She quickly opened her mouth to speak only to close it again. Over and over and over again.

  “Claire, holy shit you scared me, go to bed!” I groaned. It was almost painful watching her try and formulate a sentence.

  “I’m going to go to bed…” I groaned, wiping my eyes, as if I was the most tired I’d ever been. Part of me actually was.

  Little did I want to admit, though, that I was tired from an all evening sex-fest with the sexy upstairs neighbor and enemy to my father.

  Her eyes closed as a sigh of defeat came out of her mouth.

  “Are you okay?” she asked out of nowhere.

  “Wow,” I whispered, sarcastically. “You can speak!”

  I moved over beside her and placed my hands on her shoulders, pulling her away from the wall once again. “Look, I’m not sure what’s happening but you should probably sleep,” I said again.

  She groaned and turned her head to look at me.

  “Will you just go to bed?” I asked, annoyed. Beyond annoyed, actually.

  “We haven’t talked…” she sighed.

  My head couldn’t really wrap around what she was saying, so instead of try to figure it out, I simply asked, “What about?”

  “About my day.”

  “What about your day?” I huffed, frustration probably clear in my voice.

  “You always ask how my day is, and today you weren’t here to talk about it…”

  “We saw each other earlier!” I snapped, accidentally. “I was at your school!”

  “But you didn’t have a chance to actually talk to me!” she said loudly, clearly awake now. She seemed to be angry all of a sudden, and immediately I felt bad for snapping.

  I was just tired.

  Exhausted, even. And I really just wanted to try and figure out what to do about Ian, Dad, BioResearch and MTS.

  “I just had a bad day and I needed you!” she yelled.

  “I wish Dad wouldn’t have left you alone…” I muttered.

  Claire looked at me annoyed. “You don't even know what happened,” she growled, angrily, before standing up straighter, and shaking me away.

  To say I was taken aback would have been an understatement.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, my eyes wide. I was wondering if I was so sleepy that I wasn’t quite wrapping my head around something. “What is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, groggily before resting her head in her folded arms. She was using them as a pillow. “Why do you always have to be so terrible about Dad? He works hard. He had to be at work and I’m not a toddler.”

  Those sounded like Dad’s words. Not hers. But it was strange. Really strange.

  She wasn’t usually the type to defend Dad at all, let alone, all of a sudden — completely out of nowhere. Where the hell was this coming from?

  “What is your deal?” I asked, cocking my brow. “You never stick up for Dad.”

&
nbsp; “I figure I need to look out for him,” he sighed. “You sure don’t.”

  I huffed. In major disbelief. I didn’t know what was happening. “You don’t look out for any of us…” she added.

  “E-excuse me?” I stammered out, completely befuddled.

  “You’re moving, and you’re not even coming home until late!” she yelled. “It’s like you don’t care if you see us at all until you leave!”

  I wanted to cry. I was too tired to fight. I was too tired to make sense of anything. I knew she was upset that I was moving but I thought we’d already talked through it. And the last time I’d seen her, she was perfectly fine, so I had no idea where any of this was coming from.

  “Claire!” I raised my voice over hers to stop her from saying anything else. “You really need to go to bed!”

  “I guess it’s my fault that you’re leaving!” she yelled.

  “It's not your fault Claire,” I sighed. “That’s not what I'm saying.”

  I got closer to her and pulled her to me wrapped my tired, and extremely heavy arms, around her small slender body and pulled her into a hug.

  “I don’t want to fight,” I whispered, pulling away.

  I tilted her chin up so that she would look at me.

  “So what happened to upset you? What did you want to talk to me about earlier?”

  “Just some bitch at school,” she said, now all of a sudden acting nonchalant.

  “What do you mean? Did you get into a fight?”

  “Wasn’t really a fight, per-se,” she muttered. “More like the bitch just completely assaulted my arms, and called me a psycho-case.”

  I was worried she’d had another fit that she wasn’t telling me about; or that even her counselor didn’t know about. “Did something happen for her to say stuff like that?”

  “No. I think it’s just getting around school that I cut myself in the bathroom,” she said sadly, her head falling to look at the floor.

  I groaned, half from frustration and half from exhaustion. I didn’t think I was going to have to think about anything more than finding out some sort of information for Ian and I to use to understand MTS and BioResearch’s lawsuit battle.