by Allie Hayden
Then the song changed, and a familiar, sultry voice sung from the speakers.
Ohhhh, you’re gonna regret it
Time to let it in
Time to face the sins
Ohhhh, you’re gonna regret
Ever letting me in
But you’re my favorite sin
And I can’t get you off my mind
My head turned from the window to the stereo, where the band’s name, Dreams of Compass Gods, flashed across the display panel.
“You listen to them?” I asked.
“Didn’t use to, but Rebecca showed them to me. And then I saw your photographs, and I ended up liking them. Why, does it not seem like something I would listen to?”
“A bit.”
We came to a stoplight, and Sebastian turned to examine me, resting his chin on his hand, leaning forward ever so slightly, “And why’s that?”
“Because I’d just been…” I trailed off as Sebastian continued to hold eye contact. I could feel my cheeks turning red.
“You’d just been what?” He leaned forward again, and I found myself resisting the urge to retreat into myself. Then the light turned green, and the honks were heard behind us, which pulled Sebastian’s attention back onto the road.
“I just did the story on him,” I said. “It just seemed like strange timing, that’s all.”
“Ah, yes, strange timing indeed.”
We parked in a parking structure a few blocks from our destination. Then we walked next to Central Park until we came to the Museum of Art and Design.
“I thought were going to dinner,” I said, to which Sebastian nodded.
“There’s a wonderful restaurant on the top floor.”
We entered, and Sebastian waved at the clerk as we passed, who smiled in return.
“Do we need to buy tickets?” I asked in a whisper as we entered the elevator.
“They know me,” Sebastian stated, waving his hand dismissively as the doors slid shut.
“Oh, okay.” I was unsure how else to respond or otherwise continue the conversation as the elevator climbed up the floors of the impressive building. The LED numbers continued counting higher. I didn’t know that someone from my past could be this imposing, could make me feel so small and so large all at once. It was as if I wanted to rise to meet him, but at the same time, I just felt like letting the wave of him pass me over with no resistance.
The elevator arrived at our destination, and with a light touch on my lower back, Sebastian guided me towards an open room. There were floor-to-ceiling windows along two of the sides, and a high-class-looking bar on a third. The seating was varied, a little garish, with orange and magenta accents, but the view was indeed beautiful.
There was hardly anyone else in the restaurant at this point, and it seemed to me like a well-kept secret. Sebastian asked the host for a table for two next to the windows.
As we sat down and I took in our surroundings, I felt I needed to pinch myself from the luxury I felt. Then, one of the servers came over to us and asked our preferences for drinks and appetizers.
“Do you trust me to order, Lily?”
I hadn’t heard that nickname in forever, and the way he said it made me involuntarily shiver, a cold spell trailing its fingers down my spine.
“Yes.” The words escaped me in a breathy manner, slightly aroused. I couldn’t quite be sure if the waiter was feeling awkward at the moment.
“Then we’ll take a bottle of Nicolas Feuillate, Blanc De Blancs, Champagne, 2006, and two orders of the Farmer’s Field Salad.”
“Right away, sir.” The waiter disappeared, and I turned to Sebastian once again.
“That sounds expensive; are you sure?”
“I thought you said you trusted me, Lily.”
“I do, but—”
“No buts. I’m paying for dinner tonight. I don’t mean to brag, but I am a very successful lawyer. And I can afford much more than this, so don’t worry your pretty little head.”
I looked down.
The waiter returned with an expensive-looking bottle of Champagne, pouring a little for Sebastian, who took a sip and then nodded. The waiter then filled both of our glasses and set the bottle down on the table.
“Take a sip,” Sebastian said, gesturing towards the glass in front of me. I hesitated for a moment, and then took it between my fingers, raising it to my lips, letting the bubbly liquid slide down my throat.
It was sweet and a little tangy; the bubbles clung to my tongue and sides of my mouth as the taste of a far-away province in France filled me. I had never been one who was much for wine, but this was nothing like I experienced before.
“Good, right?” Sebastian asked, and it was less of a question than a self-satisfied statement of truth. “To your career as a photojournalist,” he said, raising his glass. I copied him, and we clinked glasses before I let that wonderful taste of Champagne fill my mouth again.
We took dinner in what Sebastian informed me was the French fashion, savoring each course and letting conversation fill the spaces. After a delicious dessert and a couple of creamy cappuccinos, Sebastian asked for the bill.
As the waiter took away his credit card, he turned back to me again.
“I had a present for you, you know. But unfortunately, I left it back at my apartment.” He said those words with a drop of artificial regret. I knew he didn’t mean it; he probably planned for this. He wanted this. I knew him better.
“Should I bring it to you later?” No, that was not the option he wanted me to choose. “Or—would you be okay with stopping by my apartment to pick it up?”
Though I doubted it would be a quick stop on the way back to my place, I decided to play along regardless. I smiled. “I’d be okay with stopping by.”
Sebastian smiled, not an unconscious little half-smirk, but a full, self-satisfied grin. It felt like it was meant only for me, like I was the only one he could see in the room.
“Let’s go then,” he said as he pocketed his credit card into his jacket and nodded at the waiter.
7. (Lillian)
The elevator ride seemed too long and too silent, even after all of the catching up we had done. We walked back to his car, and I slid into the passenger seat again. He rested his hand on my leg, and I couldn’t help but feel like we were both eager to pick up where we left off that summer so long ago. But he didn’t do anything more; he just let the weight of his hand comfort me as he drove to his apartment.
I couldn’t help but look up in awe. My jaw dropped at the grandeur of the building. It was new, modern, and sleek. It was maybe a ten-minute walk from Central Park, and it rose high into the sky. We parked in the underground parking structure, and then took the elevator up, up, up, almost all the way to the top floor.
“It’s not the penthouse,” Sebastian said as the elevator doors opened, “but I still have the whole floor to myself.”
It was breathtaking.
The elevator revealed an open-plan living area, lounge, dining room, and kitchen, with full windows on three sides, and doors leading to the rest of the floor on the remaining side.
The kitchen was separated by an open bar, and it had a wonderful warmth to it that I knew was sure to mean that Sebastian spent a portion of his time there; he must’ve cooked his own meals from time to time. The seating was a luxurious cream color and arranged in such a way as to be inviting, and there was a grand piano off to one side.
A refurnished antique wood cabinet held what I was sure to be the TV and speaker system; the floors were a light bamboo. Though it was fall, I was pleasantly warm, which I deducted meant that there was a heating system beneath us.
“Do you like it?” Sebastian asked, whispering in my ear as he came up behind me.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“You haven’t seen the bedroom yet.”
The words were low, charming, and enticing, and oh so suggestive. I couldn’t help but squirm a little bit, turning around to face him to try to break the te
nsion.
“You said you had something for me?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Sebastian walked over to the open kitchen, where a little black shopping bag with white tissue paper was sitting on the countertop. He picked it up, then brought it back over to present it to me. “To help you in your work.”
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the package. Sebastian guided me with a hand on my lower back to sit down on the sofa, and I tucked my legs under myself as I opened his present.
“Oh.”
That little sound, the gasp of surprise and pleasure, was all I could manage as I pulled out his gift to me.
There were a few pieces. The first was a linen shirt, obviously much more expensive than what I had on now, white with a black scalloped collar and soft black cuffs. Then there was a pleated, knee-length houndstooth print skirt made of thick wool. At the bottom, there was a little drawstring bag with a set of delicate pearl earrings and an even more delicate pearl choker.
“The way you dress is important in the magazine business,” Sebastian said. “Even though you’re the person behind the camera, it can affect how people behave around you, and how much they see you being worth. I thought you might appreciate something like this.”
“I do,” I said, carefully holding up the shirt and skirt to slide them back into my bag. “Thank you. I’ll wear them well.”
“I’d expect nothing less of you, Lillian.” Sebastian held eye contact for a moment longer than normal, and I was sure he was going to lean forward and capture my lips with his, but then he got up and walked over to the kitchen.
“I just restocked my wine cellar. Would you care for a glass?” He was already pulling out a wine bottle from a space above the countertop. This one was a deep, rich red.
Though I knew I should get home, the Champagne from earlier was still working through my system, and I couldn’t help myself. “I’d love one.”
Something new came over me, and I leaned down to take off my shoes. Then I sauntered over to where Sebastian was pouring a couple of glasses, aware of every moment of my body. I could see from the corner of my eyes that he was watching me hungrily as my hips swayed.
His gaze traveled up and down me as he handed me a glass, and I held it as I took a sip. I could taste the sweet tanginess of the berries, the deep, rich accent of the wood. It was certainly finer than any wine I had ever tasted before. And I could feel it all going straight to my head, as I suddenly was light and more confident.
“You remember when we snuck some of your father’s wine?” I asked after another sip.
Sebastian laughed.
“Of course, how could I forget? It was cheap stuff, but the face you made was priceless.”
“And then I kept drinking it to spite you.”
“Classic Lily, really.”
“A lot has changed since then.” To me, the words were a bit sad. Nostalgic and wishing for a time that had long since passed.
But Sebastian saw things differently. He looked at me again and then bit his bottom lip, his eyes filled with lust. “A lot certainly has.” He stepped around the counter, one hand on the marble top next to me, the other holding his wine glass to clink against mine. “I think for the better, don’t you?”
He was so close now that I didn’t even dare breathe. I could barely manage to get my next words out. “I guess that depends,” I gulped.
“I didn’t know you were one to miss the past.”
“Some pasts are too good not to miss,” I breathed again. My eyes were on his lips as they curved up into a smile.
Sebastian angled himself so that my back was against the counter and he was blocking the rest of the room from view. He set his glass down and took mine to set it down also. His hands were now on either side of me. His gaze was intense.
“And some presents are good enough to make the past pale in comparison.”
He held the moment for one agonizing second longer whilst examining my expression, and lingered right before my lips. And then he closed the distance between us, kissing me so gently, I almost thought I might be dreaming.
But the feeling was too real, and there was a churn in my stomach and a lightness in my head as I arched up to return the kiss. He pushed me against the counter with his body, caging me on either side.
“I’ve missed this,” he breathed in my ear when he broke away for a second. My heart leaped, and I could feel the heat building up within me, even though he had hardly done anything yet. My mind was on that summer, on his intensity and his whispers of promised satisfaction and pleasure.
His lips were pressed against that sensitive spot behind my ear; he worked his way down my neck, hovering over my collarbone. He then made his way back to my mouth.
“I’ve wanted to do this ever since I saw you in that tight little skirt,” he whispered against my lips before kissing me again. “We just never had a moment alone.”
“And now you have me all to yourself.”
“Exactly. And you can bet I’m not going to waste it.” He punctuated each word with another kiss to my neck, then my temples, then the base of my throat.
There was something predatory, something claiming about the way he touched me, trapping me against the counter and kissing me in those tender, vulnerable spots. This was punctuated when he bit the base of my neck, and I arched against him. That little feeling of pain was an intense source of pleasure.
He continued alternating kissing and gently biting my neck, sometimes only scraping his teeth against my skin. His hands were still working their way down to my thighs. Then he pushed me up so that I was sitting on the counter, and he stood in between my legs.
“Part of me wishes I hadn’t known you before,” he whispered against my cheek, his hands were on my waist now, and mine were tangled in his hair.
“And why is that?”
“Because then I wouldn’t feel obligated to stop.”
“And why do you have to stop?”
He sighed, disentangling himself from me, stepping back. “Because I know you, Lily, and I care about you. After waiting all this time, I don’t want to rush things now, ruin our chances.”
I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to wait, not right now.
“You’re overreacting,” I said, sliding down from the counter. I pulled him close to me and traced his cheek with my hand, then brushing my thumb over his lips. They were so soft, just as they that summer.
“I want you; you know that.”
Sebastian caught my wrist and pinned it back down to my side, staring me down. “But you don’t.”
“I do—”
He cut me off, catching my mouth in another long and passionate kiss. My arms were still pinned to my sides by him.
“You’re caught up in the rush of seeing me again. When we make love, I want it to be real. I want to get to know you again first, the old-fashioned way, learn slowly how I might pleasure you, make it, and all the nights following it, the best of your life.”
8. (Lillian)
I told myself that the reason I was wearing the outfit Sebastian gave me was that it was expensive, and it would be a shame not to wear something so nice, especially on this day. It was my second follow-up to the series of photo stories with Ash Bennett, even if I was only going to be following him around backstage.
But in my heart, I knew the reason.
I enjoyed what happened last night. I wanted it to happen, even if it only confused my feelings for Sebastian. It was so long since I saw him, and I just wanted to feel close to my childhood friend again. I wanted to seize this second chance that the universe had given us, and these clothes were reminiscent of that.
He was right. People definitely noticed me more in this outfit. In the morning, both Ana and Clarisse gave me compliments, and even the cab driver asked what I did for work when I slid into the back seat.
“Photography,” I replied, after directing him to take me to Mercury Lounge.
Dreams of Compass Gods would be playing another show t
here tonight, due to high demand. I watched as the city passed by outside, golden in the afternoon light, filled with people whose names and stories I’d never know, pictures of whom I’d never take, and faces I knew I’d never see again.
Celebrities didn’t have to worry about things like that. Singers like Ash had their whole lives on display, or at least a lot more of it than most people. Plenty of people had seen his face, knew his name, knew at least part of his story. I wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to experience just an ounce of that.
Then I wondered what it might be like to stand by someone with that kind of life. It was an unwarranted thought, unwelcome even. I had some trouble pushing it away. I wondered if I would be okay with having a relationship that wasn’t exactly private. If I would be okay with the public judging me based on my image, or if I could even handle the image Ash Bennett had.
He was a bad boy; I knew that much. He drove a motorcycle, flirted freely, and most likely had sex with whomever he pleased. He drank, did drugs, and was overall unapologetically naughty and reckless. I knew if I fell in love with him, he would undoubtedly break my heart.
The cab pulled up in front of Mercury Longue, and I was broken out of my thoughts. I handed the driver his payment and a fair tip, then headed inside the building for the third time in my life. Immediately, I was met with what could only be described as chaos.
They were currently running lighting tests, working out how the lineup for the show would be, and how the lights would coordinate, as well as making sure all the sound equipment was functioning. Ash spotted me almost immediately, and as he flipped a bit of hair out of his face, he winked at me.
Despite myself, I could feel my cheeks heat up. It was probably all those thoughts from earlier that did that. So I slipped behind the curtains of everyone running around and made my way around for the opportunity to get some candid shots. I took some of the band preparing while fitting for their mics, of the sound engineer coordinating with the lighting guy whilst experimenting with the lasers. And of Ash’s face while he instructed one of the stagehands on how he wanted the show to look for a specific song.
