The Most Special Chosen

by Rachel De La Fuente

  When no ideas are forthcoming, I suggest he drive me home. On the way, I debate trying to change back into my pants in the car or keeping my skirt on and potentially listening to Shawn’s harping. He’s sure to notice the change in wardrobe, and will most likely comment on it. I catch Damien eyeing the hem of my skirt as we’re stopped at a light and decide to keep the skirt on.

  The decision stumps me. I’ve always been independent, but now I seem to be making my decisions based on Damien. And doing so without a second thought. We pull up to the townhouse and I make a mental note to analyze my behavior later.

  He helps me out of the car and retrieves the bag with my pants from the space between the seats. I unashamedly ogle his ass as he’s bent over. I really want to reach out and give it a squeeze. At my door, he pulls me close for a hug.

  “You don’t need to say goodbye yet. Would you like to come in for a drink? I have hot chocolate and coffee.”

  “That would be wonderful.” I lead him inside and greet Shawn.

  “Hi Lys!” he calls from the living room. “Home already? I wouldn’t have expected him to . . . ” He trails off as he sees I’m not alone. “Oh, hello, Damien,” he says much less cheerfully. “Guess you didn’t let her get away yet.”

  “I invited him in, Shawn.”

  “Of course. Well, I’ll be in my room, wouldn’t want to be in your way.” He closes his door behind him before I can answer. I shake my head sadly at his reaction.

  “I’m sorry, Shawn can be stupid sometimes. He’s a great guy once you get to know him though, really.”

  Damien’s arms circle my waist. “I am certain. He must be, to have your friendship.”

  Well that’s an odd response. I wouldn’t expect him to be so understanding.

  “So, do you want coffee or hot chocolate?”

  “I will have hot chocolate.”

  “Great!” As I get the drinks together, I decide I should bring up my behavior earlier, especially since he wants us to be exclusive. I don’t want him expecting too much.

  I set a mug in front of him and sit opposite him with my own. “Damien, um, about earlier today . . . I know I acted . . . um . . . ” Like a horny teenager. I can’t say that though. “Well, you know. But that’s not what I’m usually like, and I think I’d like to take things slow to make sure I don’t make any rash decisions. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

  There is a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes, but his answer is lighthearted. “Of course not, Chérie. I would never want you to do anything you are not comfortable with. We can go at whatever pace you would like.”

  I sigh, relieved. “Thanks. So, will I see you tomorrow?”

  He shakes his head, looking sad. “Unfortunately, I have a prior commitment with my family.”

  “Oh, that’s okay, I was just wondering.” My heart sinks as I wonder if my desire to go slow will see him pulling away. I don’t understand why I’m so affected; this is only our first date. But it’s like he’s addicting and I need to be around him.

  “Perhaps we can see each other during the week?” he asks hopefully.

  I grin, feeling suddenly shy. “I’d like that.” He finishes his drink and puts his mug in the sink.

  “I should probably be going, Elysabeth.” He speaks slowly, almost reluctantly.

  “Okay.” The sexual tension between us is almost visible, but I force myself to keep my cool. “I had a great time today. Thanks.”

  “You are most welcome, Chérie.” His words are soft and warm. “I hope to see you soon.” Respecting my wishes, he takes my hand and kisses it before I walk him to the door. Despite desperately wanting another of his searing kisses, I force myself to let him go with just a smile. I stare after his car until it’s out of sight before returning to the kitchen. Shawn’s waiting for me.

  “I don’t remember you wearing a skirt when you left.” His tone is deceptively calm.

  “I bought it at the market he took me to. Isn’t it cute?” I twirl around, hoping he’ll drop whatever’s coming next.

  “I bet if you bend over even an inch you’d be showing everyone your butt.” His voice is nearly monotone.

  “Shawn! That’s ridiculous!” I scoff. “It’s halfway down my thighs. What’s gotten into you?”

  “You act differently with him, Lys. You . . . ” He motions with his hands, like he’s trying to pick the right word out of the air. “Flaunt yourself.”

  “Flaunt myself? I don’t flaunt myself. I found a skirt I liked, and I bought it.”

  “Fine, whatever.” He turns to walk away, dismissing me, and my legendary temper flares up.

  “I’ll have you know he was a perfect gentleman!”

  He whirls around to face me again, eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that how they always start?” he spits out.

  “How dare you, Shawn?” I say, my voice dangerously low. “Damien isn’t Zane. He isn’t you!”

  Calm yourself.

  The voice is stronger, clearer even, and it surprises me from my anger.

  Despite the hurt that flares in his eyes, Shawn plods along with his argument. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Lys. I think you’re putting too much into this far too quickly.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, my anger returning.

  “This was only your first date,” he responds evenly. “Every other first date you’ve ever been on has been short and informal. A couple hours, tops. This time you were gone all day. And look at you!” His voice rises. “You’ve never worn anything like this. Let’s face it, you’re in a revealing interpretation of a gothic outfit.”

  My cheeks heat. “Shawn, there’s nothing wrong with wearing something different, revealing or otherwise.”

  His eyes narrow. “You’re right. But this isn’t about something different, is it? This is for him.” My entire face heats at being so easily read. “This is just another dip into your obsession, isn’t it?” he asks accusingly, eyes narrowed. “For all your interest in vampires, I’ve never seen you like this. What’s next, a leather trench coat? I know how much you want one. How about some f—”

  “STOP!” I shout, cutting him off. “You promised!”

  “I did, but I can see what you’re doing, even if you don’t. This isn’t right. It’s not fair to you or him!” Well, that’s surprising, I assumed he hated Damien, maybe I’m wrong.

  “I’m not doing anything!” I hate how whiny I sound. “It’s not what you think. He’s a great guy, and I really like him. I’m perfectly aware that he’s just as human as I am, thank you very much.”

  “Are you, Lys?” He eyes me over the top of his glasses, one eyebrow raised.

  “Yes, of course!”

  “So you’ve kept him out of those vampire fantasies of yours?” His tone is sharp and bites into me. I look away, unable to answer in the negative. “Just as I thought. If you let this keep going, one of you will get hurt.”

  I’m not willing to accept the truth to his words. “Look, this is ridiculous. I love you, Shawn, you’re like my brother, but stop giving me all this crap! I’m going to bed.”

  I stomp up the stairs to my room, trying desperately to let go of my anger before I say anything worse than I already have. I already dealt a rather low blow. He’d only gotten handsy with a girl once, in our freshman year of college, and it was only because he was drunk. I should apologize later.

  I’m really glad to see my book sitting on top of my bed where I left it. I need something to distract me. I flop down on my bed and continue reading right where I’d left off earlier.

  He groaned in desperation, sinking his teeth deep into her neck. She shuddered and cried out, body falling limp beneath him. His bite was pure ecstasy, surprising her. She had expected pain. He bit again and again, lower and lower down her neck. Each bite felt like the thrust of a man inside her. It was pure bliss.

  Oh, right, vampire book. I sigh and set my book aside, letting my imagination insert me and Damien in the scene. This is what Shawn’s worried a
bout. I shouldn’t be thinking about these things. Vampires don’t exist!

  I stand and walk over to my closet, opening the door and pulling aside the curtain that’s hidden by my clothes. Behind it is my hidden collection: movies, books, posters. My not-so-secret obsession. Printed pictures and drawings surround glossy posters. Gorgeous male vampires stare down at me. My heart races and I clench my thighs as I stand amidst my treasure trove. No one knows about this collection. No one. I gaze up at my posters, wishing with everything inside me that I could find my own vampire.

  I shake my head. Vampires don’t exist. It’s my mantra, what grounds me when I slip too far into fantasy. I have Damien, who at least looks the part. He’s as close to perfect as I’ll get. I grimace. Listen to me! Shawn has every right to be worried. I let the lines between fantasy and reality blur far too often. I eye a drawing of a particularly sexy vampire. If he had fangs, Damien would fit in perfectly on my wall.

  Then again, there’s nothing wrong with a little role playing, especially on Halloween. Perhaps Damien and I could . . . NO. Vampires don’t exist! I don’t want to freak him out. With one last, longing look at my secret alcove, I close the curtain and walk out of my closet.

  I get ready for bed quickly, and slide between the sheets. Regardless of my best efforts, my mind draws images of a vampire Damien, fangs glinting in the moonlight. I stop resisting and give myself up to fantasy. Who cares what my dreams are? No one else will know of them.

  CHAPTER 4

  The next morning, I apologize to Shawn for what I’d said. His grin lets me know I’m forgiven, and I decide to forget what transpired. But when Damien doesn’t contact me at all the next couple of days, I start thinking maybe Shawn was right, and that Damien is just like every other guy wanting to get in my pants. It doesn’t help that Shawn keeps giving me superior looks. I half expect him to bust out with an ‘I told you so’, but, thankfully, he stays silent.

  When Damien finally messages me, despite feeling like I should be upset, I can’t help but be happy to hear from him. He apologizes for his lapse in conversation, further solidifying my good opinion of him. He also calls me early the next morning and we plan on going to the laser tag arcade later in the evening.

  At precisely seven, the doorbell rings, and I pull open the front door, pleased to see Damien standing there. “Damien, hi.”

  He grins down at me. “Hello, Elysabeth. You look exquisite.”

  “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.” He’s wearing his tight black t-shirt and trench coat again, this time with black jeans and sneakers. “I love your coat. It makes you look like a—” I cut myself off just in time. I almost mentioned the “v” word.

  “Look like what, Elysabeth?”

  Shit! I cast around for something to say. “Like a movie star.”

  I can’t read his expression. “I will take that as a compliment.” He grins and I relax. “Are you ready to go?”

  I pull the door closed. “Yep.” I direct him to the laser tag arena.

  When Damien pays for the game, because he won’t hear of me paying my own way, we’re told one has just started, and the wait will be about half an hour.

  “Elysabeth, please explain this laser tag to me. I read about it online, but I do not fully understand the point.”

  “You’ve never played?” I ask, surprised.

  “No, Chérie.”

  “Just wait, you’ll love it!” I follow Damien into the equipment/waiting room and go over some of the tricks to the game. A few minutes after we sit down, a huge group of guys comes in and fills in the space around us. It must be some kind of party. I try to ignore the looks aimed my way and instead focus on explaining things to Damien.

  A short while later, a guy walks in and splits us into two teams, red and blue. Unfortunately, Damien and I get put on separate teams. There goes my idea of working together.

  Once we’ve got our gear, we get the obligatory ‘orientation’ on equipment and course safety. We’ve got another five-minute wait after that’s done so the employees can make sure the course is clear.

  Once we’re allowed in, we’re directed to opposite sides of the room. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you, Damien.” I shoulder my weapon and saunter off to join the rest of my team.

  “Look, why don’t you stay hidden, sweetheart, and we’ll take care of this.” The idiot who seems to think he’s the leader puts his arm around me.

  “Oh, take care of the poor defenseless girl, huh? Isn’t that sweet.” I roll my eyes in disgust and shove his arm off of my shoulders. The lights dim, and a voice comes over the intercom.

  “Ready your weapons. The battle commences in three . . . two . . . one . . . ” A loud gong sounds, and I race away from my so-called teammates. It’s not just for fun anymore, now I have something to prove.

  I play sniper for a while, before having to abandon my prime location to avoid getting hit. I circle around the room, shooting every red team member I come across before ending up back in my original hideout. I check my back every few seconds, so I’m shocked when my vest lights up. I duck down and turn. Damien is standing about five feet from me with a satisfied grin.

  My eyes narrow. He cost me my perfect game. Without a second’s thought, I simultaneously raise my gun and pull the trigger. His vest lights up, wiping the smirk off of his face, and I run for it.

  I catch Damien again just after he’s fired on one of my teammates. He looks down in surprise at his vest before spinning, and apparently firing, almost instantaneously. My vest lights up as well. With a smirk, he takes off around a corner. How the hell did he move so fast?

  I spend the last five minutes of the game searching for and hitting Damien, although he hits me almost as often. I hit other red team members if I cross them, but they aren’t my main focus.

  Finally, time is called, and I shoulder my gun to head back to the equipment room. I only make it three steps before I’m grabbed around the waist and pulled up against a muscular body.

  “You did well, Chérie.” He whispers in my ear. Goosebumps pebble my skin instantly. He drops a kiss on the back of my neck before walking with me. Eager to see my results, I walk quickly, pulling him along behind me.

  “We lost?” I say as I’m handed the results sheet. “By 150 points?!? Damien, how did you get nearly three hundred hits by yourself?” I stare in disbelief at the results that I’m holding.

  “I aimed, and I pulled the trigger, Elysabeth. In the same way you managed one hundred.”

  “Yeah, but, still, that’s an insane score.”

  He points at my row. “But look, Chérie, you took the fewest hits.”

  “By two,” I say, somewhat disappointed.

  “Still, it is an admirable achievement.”

  “Yeah, yeah, sure,” I wave away his statement in my shock. “Your score is amazing, Damien. I can’t believe you’ve never played before.”

  “Never, Chérie, but that was quite fun,” he answers with a smile.

  “Do you want to play a second game?” Maybe I can get a perfect game after all.

  He nods. “If you are up to it.”

  “Sure. Let’s make sure we’re on the same team this time.”

  “Agreed.” He pays for a second game, and we go back to the equipment room. I’m not the only girl this time, but I can’t decide if that’s a good thing. I don’t like the way Bubble Boobs over in the corner is eyeing Damien. It’s rude! It’s obvious we’re on a date. He has his arm around me.

  He chuckles and leans down to whisper in my ear, having obviously noticed my annoyance. “Ignore her, Elysabeth. She means nothing.” I can’t help but grin at the frown Bubble Boobs wears.

  When the guy shows up to split us into groups again, I can tell he briefly contemplates splitting us up, but a quick glare gets him to divide the room down the middle. Miss Bubbles is on the other team. Awesome.

  We get geared up, listen to the orientation, again, and head into the room.

  “Do you wish to stick t
ogether, Chérie?”

  “For the most part, that will be a good idea.” When the gong sounds, we find a fully protected corner. We bobbed up and down shooting at the opposing team, hitting target after target. We make a veritable light show of blue. It’s a lot of fun. All good things must come to an end, though.

  Damien straightens up suddenly. “We have company, Chérie. I do not know which team. I will go right, you go straight. They cannot hit us both.”

  “Okay.” I take off running, determined to keep a perfect score this time, as Damien was the only one who hit me the last game. I hear a ding, but my vest isn’t blinking, so I keep my head down and run faster. When I make it to the end of the ramp, I duck around the wall and try not to laugh at how seriously we’re taking this game. Like the shots can actually hurt us or something. But still, that’s the fun part. I work my way around to the ramp down from the direction Damien went, but he’s nowhere to be found.

  He’s probably heading back to my side to look for me. I creep around the course, hitting blue team members as often as possible. I finally think I see Damien, and creep up behind him. A quick look is all I need to realize it’s not him, but thankfully he’s on my team. Hearing me, he turns and smiles.

  “Hey there, sexy, come to team up with me?”

  Ewww. “I’m already on your team. We’re both red.”

  “Well, I could use a partner.” His eyes rake my body, making me wish I was wearing a shapeless sack.

  “I already have one.” I try to go around him, but he blocks my way.

  “I don’t see you with anyone.”

  “We got separated after an ambush.”

  “So you don’t have a partner at the moment. I can take care of you for now.” He waggles his eyebrows at me.

  “I don’t need to be taken care of.” I sigh. “Just let me pass.”

  “If you want to go by, you’ll need to pay the toll.”