Plight

by K. M. Golland

“Hi, come i—” I’d barely been able to finish my sentence before Pugly jumped up my leg, his claws gripping my skin through the cotton. “Whoa. Hey, someone is excited to be here,” I added, my face part smile part squint that was masking the pain shooting up my shins. I bent down and took his talons into my hands, as if we were about to waltz into my apartment together. “Dudley, how are you, mate?”

  Purple toenail polish caught my eye, followed by shiny, silver straps of a pair of heels. I wasn’t a foot-man, but the feet standing before me were by far the prettiest I’d ever seen. My eyes continued to travel up Danielle’s leg, the light purple satin and lace of her dress falling to either side like curtains, revealing her golden skin. I swallowed, hard, desperate to trail my tongue along her leg. I wanted to taste her so bad.

  Swallowing yet again, I forced myself to continue climbing her body with my eyes, stopping once more where her thigh disappeared behind the material. Fuck! I lowered my knee to the ground, needing some stability because my head all of a sudden felt light. She looked so damn sexy and I hadn’t even travelled half way.

  Tipping my head back, I continued the length of her, nearly toppling over when my eyes caught sight of her breasts, which, just like her leg, were perfectly framed by her draping dress. Jesus fucking Christ! Never had I seen a woman display that much skin and still maintain an air of class and modesty.

  “Elliot!”

  I tried to answer but I think I drooled, instead.

  “ELLIOT!”

  “What?” My eyes snapped to hers.

  “You’re kissing my dog. It’s disturbing.”

  At that precise moment, I became acutely aware of the slimy, foul smelling tongue that was licking my face.

  I spat, choked, and pushed him off me. “Yuk. Dudley, not cool!”

  Danielle erupted into laughter. “He likes you lots, Lots.”

  “Well, I don’t like him.” I rose to my feet again while wiping my face. “Not like that anyway.”

  “Shame. You both make a great couple.”

  I wanted to pull her to me and tell her that we make a great couple, but I didn’t. I just stood there, my eyes and mouth lost in translation.

  “Soooo,” she drawled, still giggling while nodding over my shoulder to my apartment “This is all a bit … grand!”

  “Sorry.” I stood back and gestured she enter. “Please, come in. Let’s get Dudley settled.”

  As she walked past, the scent of her perfume near lulled me into a trance, and I swear I followed behind her like a love-struck Pepé Le Pew with cochineal coloured hearts for eyes.

  “Can I let him off the lead?” she asked, as she slowly circled my living room while trailing her finger along my mantelpiece.

  “Sure.” I wasn’t really interested in Pugly. Danielle’s tight swaying arse was far more interesting.

  “Excellent!” She bent down and unclipped his leash. “He should just sniff around at first. Scope out the joint. I don’t think he’ll pee on anything.”

  The words “think” and “pee” registered like warning bells, my love heart eyes popping just like they did on the TV screen.

  I pinpointed an exploring Pugly. “You think, or you know?”

  “Er … ‘know’. Yeah. He won’t pee.” She placed the lead on the kitchen table and made her way to the floor to ceiling windows. “Wow, Lots. This view is incredible.”

  My eyes zeroed in on the lead, and I shuddered. The kitchen table was an eating-place. Dog leads shouldn’t share eating-places.

  Trying to shake the unhygienic thought out of my head, I answered Danielle but was distracted by Dudley wiping his snout along the base of my sofa. “Yeahhhhh, the view is … great!” What the fuck is he doing, trying to create the longest dog snot trail? “Maybe we should get Dudley settled in the laundry, yeah?”

  “In a minute,” she said, dismissively, not even turning to face me. “We’ve got time, I checked. It will only take us fifteen or so minutes to get to the gala in an Uber.”

  Fuck the Uber and fuck the gala. I didn’t care about those. What I cared about was Dudley using my rug as a flea dispenser.

  “Traffic is heavy tonight. We shouldn’t chance it.”

  She spun to face me. “Oh my God! You’re such a worry-wart. When did you become so uptight?”

  “I’m not. I just don’t like being late.”

  Dudley performed a circle manoeuvrer, as if preparing to take a dump.

  “He’s not going to shit on my rug is he?”

  Danielle’s eyes widened. “Um … of course not.” She darted toward him. “Dudley, come here.”

  The ugly little fuck took off down the hallway, Danielle in tow, her heels clicking against the floorboards. “DUDLEY!”

  I followed them. “Has he ever been trained?”

  “Trained, as in obedience training? No! He’s a dog, not an army cadet.”

  “Dogs need training, Danielle.”

  “I disagree. They need love and attention.” She kept chasing after him, making a hard left into my bedroom and cornering the little turd.

  “Clearly,” I responded, sarcastically.

  Pugly darted around her and jumped onto my bed. We both launched after him, our shoulders colliding a split second before our heads. He nearly escaped again, but I secured his wiggling little arse.

  “Ow, my head,” Danielle whined. “That hurt.” She fell back onto my mattress, her chocolate brown curls splayed around her face, her hands massaging her head, her eyes pressed shut. She looked like an angel, an angel with a sore head but an angel nonetheless.

  I wanted to take a photo, frame it, and secure it to my wall so that I could stare at it before I went to bed and each morning when I woke up. She could be my daily motivation and reminder of why life was so important, that it was short, and that everything could be gone with the blink of an eye.

  I didn’t want to blink. I didn’t want to lose her again. That was for certain. No matter what happened in the next two months, I would not let her slip through my fingers again. Ever.

  Dodging Pugly’s intrusive tongue, I provided some distance between my face and his. “Come on, you. I’m going to show you to your room now.”

  Danielle opened her eyes and smiled. “See? Just love and attention.”

  I grumbled.

  She’d been right. It had only taken us fifteen minutes in an Uber to get to the gala venue. Add on the five minutes it took to get Pugly settled and then another two to find a tie that matched her dress, and we’d ended up being only five minutes late, which I could cope with.

  “Oh, my Lord, Danielle,” my mother said, as she stood up from the table. “You look simply stunning.”

  Danielle blushed and let go of my arm to hug Mum. “Thank you, Jeanette. You look absolutely beautiful as well.”

  She did. Mum was a classic beauty — dark hair and Snow White skin. After Dad died when I was five years old, and despite her remarrying Pete four years later and then divorcing him shortly after we moved house when I was fifteen, men had been trying to court her.

  “Why hello there, little brother,” Laura said, as she wrapped her arms around me. “Nice of you to tell me you’d become newly engaged, and to Danielle of all people.”

  Her tone of voice spelled trouble. It spelled that she was on to us; that she knew we were hiding something, and that she was going to figure it out.

  Over my dead body.

  I hugged her back. Tightly. “Congratulations, big sis! I’m so proud of you.”

  “Don’t avoid the question,” she whispered into my ear.

  “You never asked one,” I whispered back.

  “Elliot, what is going on?”

  I pulled back and held her at arm’s length, her dark hair so tightly pinned back that her blue eyes were as fierce as a white walker from the Game of Thrones.

  Letting her go, because she looked scary, I secured Danielle to my side. “Danielle, you remember my sister, Laura, right?”

  “Yes.” She extended her hand. �
�Hi, it’s been a while. Congratulations on your award this evening.”

  Laura smirked and pulled Danielle into a hug, firing me a smartarse glare over her shoulder. “Yes, and thank you. But it seems congratulations are in order for you and Elliot as well.”

  Danielle chuckled, nervously, so I butted in. “They sure are. Surprise!”

  “Surprise indeed.” Laura stepped back and plastered on a fake smile for Danielle.

  I didn’t like it.

  “Shall we take a seat?” I suggested, pulling out a chair for Danielle to sit on.

  She smiled, unease in her eyes as they silently spoke to me. “Thanks, but I need the lady’s room.”

  “Good timing, honey, I need the men’s.” Linking my arm with hers, I excused us. “We’ll be right back.”

  Mum smiled and took a seat while Laura narrowed her gaze. “Don’t be long. It’s about to start,” she warned.

  “We won’t.” I led Danielle through the room, weaving in and out of large round tables covered in white damask cloth — very typical of a gala-type event.

  “Elliot, slow down. If you yank me any harder my dress will rip.”

  I was tempted to yank as hard as I fucking could.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I get it. Your sister is on to us. She knows. She’s going to expose us,” she said in a panic, as we rounded the corner. “We can’t let her. Your mum will be devastated and mine will be so disappointed. It will ruin the garden rebuild. It will wreck everything. We can’t wreck everything. We need to fix the garden. We need to—”

  “Hey, calm down.” I placed my hands on either side of her face and coaxed her to look me in the eyes. “She won’t find out because we won’t tell her. She can assume all she wants. If we stick to our guns, she can’t prove anything.”

  Danielle blinked. “I … I guess so.”

  “Not guess, know. Just take my lead, okay?”

  As I was about to let her go, I noticed Laura standing by the entry of the ball room and foyer, watching us.

  I needed to send her a clear message and I knew just how to do it.

  “I’m going to kiss you.”

  “What?” Danielle went to step back, but I pulled her to me.

  “Laura is to our left, watching, so I’m going to kiss you. Are you ready?”

  She stiffened, her eyes wide.

  “This is me asking for permission, okay?” I gave her a cheeky smile, then gently rubbed my thumb over her lip.

  She opened her mouth just slightly, and I was so fucking tempted to glide my thumb in and out of it, to have her lips wrapped around me. Just the thought hardened my cock, so I pressed my lips to hers, softly, the tip of my tongue unrushed as it enticed her mouth open wider.

  The sweetest of sighs escaped her, and she draped her arms over my shoulders, her fingers threading through my hair. Her touch was heaven, her taste bliss, and when we were together, it was paradise, a place and time I never wanted to leave. She was it for me; she always had been.

  The sound of a clearing throat pulled me from my nirvana. I looked up, annoyed, to find Laura standing roughly three feet away, her fingers impatiently tapping her arms. “If you’re going to actually pee, you might want to do it now. The presentation is about to start.”

  Danielle stepped out of my embrace. “Yes. Good point. Your brother is always stealing kisses,” she said, playfully, and whacked me on the arse as she headed toward the toilet.

  It took me by surprise, but I liked it. “And my gorgeous fiancée is always stealing the chance to touch my arse,” I called out.

  She turned and walked backward a couple of steps, pushing the door open with her butt, a cheeky grin lifting the corners of her mouth. “And what a nice arse it is.”

  Yep. I fucking loved this fake-engagement game.

  “I don’t know what you two are playing at, but if Mum finds out you’re pulling our legs, she’ll be devastated, and then I’ll really be mad.”

  I snapped my head toward my sister, my huge smile morphing into a death-stare. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t I? So you expect me to believe you’re engaged to your childhood best friend when you haven’t even been dating?”

  “Who says we haven’t been dating?”

  “Me.”

  “Back off. I deal with Magistrates every day. I don’t need you acting like one where my love life is concerned.”

  “Don’t tell me to back off, because I won’t. I don’t want our mother getting hurt, and I certainly don’t want you getting hurt.” She touched my arm. “El, have you forgotten that I was the one who witnessed what losing Danielle did to you, and that I knew you were in love with her and always would be?”

  I shrugged off her grip. “So what’s your problem? Why aren’t you happy for us?”

  “Because I don’t believe this is genuine,” she said, waving her hand between me and the toilet door Danielle had disappeared behind. “At least not from her side.”

  I sighed. My sister meant well, but she also meant to stick her nose where it wasn’t wanted or needed. “Look, thanks for your concern, but it’s not warranted. Danielle and I are happily navigating our new relationship. Our relationship. Meaning her and I. Not you, or Mum. So please, keep out of it.”

  The toilet door swung open and Danielle breezed through like a warm, spring morning, her dress flowing with her confident steps, her eyes sparkling just as bright as the sporadic crystals dotting the lace.

  “Ready to head back?” she asked, once again linking her arm with mine.

  “Sure am.” I offered my other arm to my sister, but she just huffed and rolled her eyes before turning on her heel and heading back to the table.

  “Everything okay?” Danielle whispered into my ear as we followed behind.

  “Yeah. Just Laura being Laura.”

  “She hasn’t changed much at all.”

  “Nope.”

  “Poor you.”

  I laughed. “Yeah. It’s like what I always told you when you were sad about being an only child.”

  “Siblings are overrated. Just ask a killer whale,” she said before giving me the chance to say it.

  I laughed again. “You remember?”

  “Of course. Mind you, I always thought you meant that the whales killed their siblings and that’s why they didn’t have any.”

  “No. They have siblings. They just fuck off when they are born.”

  Danielle snort-laughed, loud, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. She’d done it a lot when we were kids and was always so embarrassed by it.

  I placed my hand over hers. “That always was and always will be one of my most favourite sounds in the world.”

  “Oh, shut up.” She smiled sheepishly, as we stopped at the table.

  I winked and pulled her chair out.

  “Just in time,” Mum said, excited. “It’s starting.” She rubbed Laura’s arm. “Here we go, sweetheart.”

  The chandeliers above dimmed, and the emcee introduced himself, explaining to the patrons in the room what the program for the evening would entail. Laura’s presentation was third on the list, right after dinner was to be served.

  We listened to the first presentation, and I casually leaned back and draped my arm over Danielle’s chair, my fingers lightly tracing circles on her shoulder. She fidgeted at first, even kicked me under the table, but her skin was so soft; I couldn’t help myself.

  “So,” Laura said, before forking some quail into her mouth, “how’d you and Danielle get back in contact after all these years?”

  “Facebook.” My answer was short, sharp and quick.

  “Of course.” Laura nodded, smiled at Danielle, and took in another mouthful.

  I glared. If she thought she could successfully cross-examine the cross-examination king, she was sadly mistaken.

  “So how long had you been seeing each other before you got engaged?” she continued to probe.

  “About six or seven months.” Again
, I didn’t lie; that was the approximate time it had taken before I proposed to her with the Cheezel.

  “Huh,” Laura said, poking her fork back into her entrée.

  “That long?” Mum exclaimed. “Why didn’t either of you say anything?”

  “Because we didn’t want to.”

  I smiled at Danielle, the kind that told her I could handle this, that she was safe and to trust me.

  She smiled back and picked up her glass of wine. “We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for the time being. That’s all.”

  “That’s fair enough, dear. We all need our privacy.”

  “So where’s your ring?” Laura mumbled, nodding toward Danielle’s hand.

  Danielle looked at her ring finger, twiddled her fingers, and giggled. “I ate it.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, she did. I’ve been meaning to buy her an inedible one ever since.”

  “But I like the edible ones. They’re tasty.”

  “What on earth are you two talking about?” Mum asked.

  Danielle shuffled in her seat and dropped her hand to my lap. It surprised me. I never expected her to play along as convincingly as I would.

  “He proposed with a Cheezel,” she explained.

  “Elliot Elijah Parker! Please tell your mother that you proposed with a proper ring.”

  “Whaaat? A Cheezel is a proper ring.”

  Mum dropped her head to her hands and then peeked through her fingers. “Is he serious?” She looked to Laura for an explanation.

  “I’m not sure,” my sister replied. “Elliot has a very good poker face.”

  I did.

  And she’d be wise not to forget it.

  I’d been a bowl of emotional soup when I’d turned up at Elliot’s earlier in the evening. Nervous. Regretful. Determined. Excited. After having the revelation that I desperately wanted my best friend back and would stop at nothing to make that happen, I’d soon after near fled like Cinderella when noticing how lust-soaked his eyes had been when they devoured me shortly after he’d opened his apartment door. They’d stirred my anxiety and my fear that, I, too, wouldn’t be able to resist him. But I’d pushed all of that aside. I’d mentally blocked out the deliciousness dressed in a tuxedo because, had I not, my eyes would’ve been just as lust-soaked as his. And now, at dinner, sitting opposite his pesky, persistent sister, I felt protective. She was a canon, firing one ball after another at him, hoping she’d tear a big enough hole to expose our lie. I didn’t like it. I wanted her to point her relentless barrel elsewhere.