The Last Grimm_Red's Hood

by H. L. Wampler

  “Are you interested in dating?”

  “I suppose so,” Connor replied hesitantly.

  “What kind of girl are you looking for?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. I guess someone who keeps my interest, isn’t high maintenance, or talks a lot.”

  “That’s cool,” she said, not taking the hint.

  I did feel a little guilty letting her go on and on. In my defense it was funny, and the first time a guy wasn’t trying to hump Anna’s leg after being near her for five minutes. She had these incredible green eyes that seemed to suck a person in, and fiery red hair that matched her personality. Her skin was creamy, flawless perfection with the right hint of natural pink in her cheeks. All of her shirts were low cut and her bras were push up. I could almost see the heat rising from her body. This was the first time she had to break out all the Anna charms and still not win. The frustration slowly took over her facial expressions. Her nostrils flared, and she pursed her plump lips into a fine line. She must have gotten tired of trying because she slowly backed off and became less interested in him. I couldn’t really blame guys for throwing themselves at her. If I were a guy I would, which was why Connor not reciprocating the advances was a bit odd. She was definitely not used to being ignored. I was sure that after he left she would give me an ear full about it.

  “It’s getting late, Abigail; I think I’m going to head home,” Connor said standing quickly and walking toward my door.

  “Do you mind taking me to my car? I will sort of need it to get to work tomorrow.”

  “You’re going already?” she turned her luscious, glossed lips into a pout.

  “Yeah, work is bright and early.”

  “I suppose,” she pouted a bit more, then looked at me, “Oh and Marsha sent a bunch of math homework with me for you. Miss Kent said not to forget about the English paper and Eric said there is a test on chapters eight through twelve on Friday, so come in to class when you finish with Miss Hexe.”

  “Awesome,” I muttered.

  Anna and I were majoring in the same thing, and the professors loved reminding her to tell me about all the other work I have to do. It may be the internship of the year, but I still have my college work to do.

  “I guess I’ll see you this weekend?" she asked looking at me, “And hopefully I’ll see you soon,” she winked at Connor.

  “Sure,” he said looking at the floor.

  “Come on, Anna, I’ll walk you to your car before you make him disappear into the wall.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I waved to Anna from the passenger side of Connor’s car. She stared at him longingly and gave me one of her fake smiles, I think a bit of jealousy may have broken through. She was definitely pissed. As her car hit the street, I could hear the tires squealing. Connor shook his head and slid into his seat. His engine purred to life, and he backed up slower than Anna had. We drove down the little side road without so much as the radio on. I wanted to ask him why he did not act on Anna’s advances. What was it that made him immune to her fiery charms? Maybe his immense prowess nullified hers.

  As he turned onto route fifty-one I decided to suck it up and say something.

  “So, you weren’t very receptive of Anna’s advances,” I said while staring out the car window.

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “She’s not really my type.”

  “Oh please, Connor. Anna is everyone’s type,” I rolled my eyes.

  “Not mine. She is too much, and I didn’t really like how she kept trying to throw herself at me. I’m really not that type of guy.”

  “So what is your type?”

  “Well, I like independent women who know what they want and are not afraid to go get it, but have class. Someone who isn’t so annoying, or have such red hair. I prefer sandy blondes with pale blue eyes,” he looked over and winked at me.

  “That is rather specific.”

  “Well, she’s a rather specific girl.”

  “Who is it?”

  “She’s really a remarkable woman. She is really stubborn and hard headed, but enjoyable to be around at times,” he chuckled.

  “Hmm, she sounds interesting,” I smiled a bit.

  The car came to a slow stop as he approached a red light. I could feel his hand on my knee.

  “Yes, you are,” he reached over and before I could protest, he covered my mouth with his.

  The warmth of his breath entered my mouth with his tongue. My heart felt like it stopped beating. He reached a hand up and tangled it in my hair. I gently placed one hand on his chest and used the other to touch the side of his face. After a few moments of getting lost in him, I ended the fantastic moment. I seemed to have a nasty habit of frustrating people beyond belief, including myself. I have no idea why I was compelled to stop him. His lips and tongue felt magnificent.

  “Connor…” I let my voice trail off, the smile fading.

  “Abigail, I can’t sit here and pretend to not have feelings for you. I don’t know why you can’t see that!”

  “I do see it, and I may have feelings for you too.”

  “So why won’t you just go with it? Why do you keep pushing me away?” he asked burying his nose in my hair.

  “How would it work out?”

  “Like any other relationship.”

  “This,” I used my hands to motion between us, “would not be a normal relationship.”

  “Sure it will be.”

  “No it won’t. We’re not normal people. Nothing about this would be okay.”

  “Alright, so technically I’m from another world.”

  “Yeah, Connor, another world. Not to mention what about when you go back? Then what?”

  “I never said I was,” he said.

  “Why would you stay here? If I can help you go home, back to your mother why wouldn’t you go?”

  “Because, Abigail, you’ve got to be the feistiest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I would be a fool to let you go. I may not be from your world, but I know an amazing woman when I see her.”

  “I’m not a woman yet. I’m eighteen.”

  “And I’m twenty-one.”

  “You have family…”

  “Who have not seen me in sixteen years. I don’t want to leave you here,” he grabbed my hand, and held it tight as he drove down the highway.

  “You barely know me. Not to mention I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself, plus I have my mom,” I muttered.

  "All of your reasons not to be with me are pointless. We belong together, Abs."

  I didn’t want to tell him to stay. I didn’t want to admit that I was already falling in love with him. I wasn’t about to keep him away from his family.

  “Abigail, what kind of emotional support is she going to give you? What kind of life will you have with just you and your mom?”

  “She’s my mother. It’ll be life as usual,” I snapped.

  “Do you want the usual life? Don’t you want something more? Don’t you want me?” he sounded like he was almost pleading with me.

  “Of course I want something more. Hell, I’ve been tossed into the middle of a lot more,” I looked out the window, trying not to cry, “But I’m not going to keep someone from another life; especially when I’ve only known him for a week!”

  “It has felt like longer,” he smiled.

  I looked over at him. His hair was a tousled mess, and even in the darkness I could see him clenching and unclenching his jaw. He was stressed. The lights of the city lit up the inside of the car as we crossed the West End Bridge. I was always in awe seeing downtown and North Shore lit up. Connor pulled the car onto sixty-five heading toward downtown. We were almost at our parking garage. I didn’t want to leave him. I didn’t want to just get in my car, and we go our separate ways. He was right, I wanted more than this. I didn’t want him to go back to his story. He had to stay real.

  Panic began to set in as he pulled into the garage driving around and around looking for my car.
The silver Volvo sat lonely and deserted at the top of the garage. The night air was crisp and clear. For the first time in days it was not snowing.

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered.

  I sat there with my shaking hand on the handle, trying to think quickly about what to do.

  Should I get out and go home? I can’t leave. I don’t want to leave him. I fought with my thoughts. Not sure what to do.

  “Connor,” I said meekly.

  “Hmm?”

  I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t want to leave him. He sat there and stared at me, which made it all that much harder. I didn’t want to be the reason he was stuck here without family. I really didn’t.

  “Stop looking at me.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re making me nervous.”

  “Oh?” he cocked his head to the side and kept staring at me.

  “Fine. If you won’t stop looking at me, I won’t look at you,” I turned my head and looked at the cement walls that surrounded us.

  “What?”

  “You’re right.”

  “About what?” he asked.

  “I do want more. I don’t want to be stuck with my mother forever.”

  “I know.”

  I turned and looked at him, tears streaming down my cheeks, “I don’t want to fall for you any harder than I have, and you up and decide you want to go back.”

  “Why this sudden change of heart?”

  I sighed heavily, “It’s not a sudden change. You’re the only one who really knows what I’m going through right now. You’re the only one I can confide in.”

  He reached out and held onto my shoulders, his smoldering gaze just burrowing deep into my soul, “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.”

  “You can’t say that for sure,” I sobbed.

  “Yes I can.”

  “How?”

  “I’m not going back,” he said pulling me into his body.

  “You’re not?” I snuffed ungracefully.

  “No.”

  “Don’t stay because of me.”

  “Why not? You’re the perfect reason for me to stay.”

  For the first time in my life I was speechless. I kept my head on his shoulder.

  “Do you want to go home?” he whispered into my ear.

  “No.”

  “Good,” he straightened up in his seat and started his car.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Back to my apartment.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Not far from here,” he said zipping through the empty streets.

  ***

  He pulled up in front of an old brick high rise a few blocks away. Turning down a small alley he headed for a parking lot off to the back. I was a little more than confused.

  “I thought you said we were going to your apartment.”

  “We are,” Connor said.

  “You live downtown?”

  “Yeah.”

  “At the Carlyle?” I asked in amazement.

  “Yeah, what you thought you were the only one with a nice home?”

  “Well, no, but the Carlyle?”

  “Yes, the Carlyle.”

  “Okay,” I said sitting back.

  We walked down the icy, back side walk to the front door. Inside was brightly lit and very warm. A security guard sat behind the desk staring at monitors and watching the door.

  “Evening, Mr. Guy.”

  “Good evening, Henry.”

  We headed toward a set of elevators which opened when Connor inserted a key card.

  “Um, Connor?”

  “What?”

  “Which floor, exactly, do you live on?”

  “Twenty-second.”

  “The twenty-second floor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that the top floor?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is it the penthouse?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What exactly did your dad do for a living?”

  “He was the huntsman,” he mumbled.

  “I doubt he made the kind of money that place cost by hunting rogue fairy tale wolves.”

  “And some odd jobs. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Ohhhkay, touchy subject,” I side-eyed him as we rode the rest of the way up in silence.

  I stared in amazement when the doors opened. For it being in a building, it was a huge space. The view from the living area was breathtaking. It was even better than Belinda’s office. I was in love with Connor and his view.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The spacious penthouse walls were a warm, chocolate brown color; which contrasted nicely with the beige carpets. The walls were virtually bare except for the large T.V. against one wall, and a few books cases against another. I walked to the book case and checked out a few of the titles. Dracula, Frankenstein, Sherlock Holmes, A Collection of Hans Christian Andersen, Tales of the Grimm Brothers.

  “Interesting collection of books you have here,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I kept looking around. There were two sets up steps that led up to a sort of game area. He had a pool table and bar sitting in front of the windows. The dark wood floors were open and wide. The large windows stretched from one end of the living space to the opposite. A few doors were on either side of the walls, I could only guess that those had a wall of glass as well. I walked toward a door that led onto a balcony. If there was not so much snow and so cold I’d venture out to take a peek down.

  “If you’re afraid of heights, stay away from that window,” Connor laughed while digging around in his fridge.

  I took a few tentative steps back and decided to just sit down on his L-shaped, black leather couch and watched him move around the small kitchen.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Do you have root beer?”

  “Root beer?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yes, root beer. I love the stuff.”

  “You sure you don’t want a glass of wine or a beer?” he asked.

  “Well, what kind of wine?”

  “Um, there is Riesling and Merlot.”

  “I guess I can do the Riesling.”

  He grabbed the bottle out of the fridge, two glasses off a rack, and came back into the living room taking a seat next to me on the sofa. He poured the golden elixir into the glasses and handed one to me. The see through bottle was resting in front of me on the coffee table. The image of a black kangaroo stood out against the light green background. I held the glass out and stared at the liquid. It twirled around the crystal in silent spins. It was like watching a ballerina do a pirouette over and over again. It was hypnotizing. I slowly sipped expecting something bold and sour. I was surprised by the smoothness of the taste. The lemon and lime explosion in my mouth tantalized my taste buds. The lingering sweetness was a pleasant after taste. I had my fair share of wines, even at eighteen, but this by far had to be one of my favorites. I sat back and sighed heavily while sniffing my wine. The citrus smell was almost as delectable as the taste.

  “How do you like it?”

  “It’s surprisingly delicious,” I smiled.

  “You’ve never had Riesling?”

  “I’ve never had Alice White.”

  “Oh.”

  We snuggled closer, staring out the window. I let my head rest on his chest, the spicy smell invaded my nostrils, and a delightful shudder ran through my body. All thoughts of the wine disappeared.

  “Music?” he squeaked.

  “Sure.”

  He reached for a long, thin, black remote and pushed one of the many buttons. Limp Bizkit came blaring out at us.

  “Limp Bizkit?” I laughed.

  He quickly hit another button, switching it to a classical song, “My guilty pleasure.”

  “You go from Limp Bizkit to Mozart’s Requiem?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Feeling a bit down are we?” I asked snuggling back up to him.

>   “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, this was commissioned for someone’s death.”

  “That’s right.”

  We didn’t talk again. My heart continued to pump, and I was afraid to say anything. I knew nothing but babbling nonsense would come out. He stared out the window. He had such a forlorn look in his eyes as he watched the snow. I wanted to know what he was thinking about. He looked down at me with his amazing half-smile. I had never felt more comfortable and relaxed in a person’s arms before. I looked up at Connor; he was still looking at me. A surge of warmth rushed through my body. I could feel my cheeks getting hot and my mouth dry. I took a quick sip of my wine and was snuggling back down when he lowered his head to mine. I felt his velvety lips press against my own. My eyes closed and rolled to the back of my head. I let him part my lips again and explore my mouth. My hands wandered up to his hair, and I ran my fingers through it, gently tugging. That seemed to only get him more riled up. His tongue abandoned my mouth in exchange for a harder more determined assault on my lips. With the harder kissing came an increased determination to get our bodies closer. I grabbed at him, pulling his torso into me while thrusting my hips into his. I wanted to feel his naked body against mine. I was ready for that big step. His hands roamed over my body, he softy ran them from my neck to my stomach. He reached under my shirt and bra, carefully cupping my breast with his hand; squeezing and rubbing them. A quiet moan left my mouth. My body began to feel so warm, which left other areas rather disturbed. I couldn’t help but squirm under his touch as my panties became damper. As he felt my body our kissing became more intensified. With each move we were held back by the back of his couch and the sweat from our bodies causing us to stick to it. It was not comfortable. At all.

  “Screw this damn couch,” he huffed before picking me up, and carrying me up a small flight of stairs to a bedroom.

  He swung me around so my feet hit the door. It swung open and banged loudly into the crisp white wall. He tossed me on the bed and climbed on after me. He lowered himself down. His anxiousness came through as his entire body began shaking. My fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, desperate to get to the toned body underneath. I finally managed to rip the extremely offensive garment off him, letting my hands linger on his chest and stomach.