Find Me Alastar

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Find Me Alastar Page 22

by T L Swan


  I don’t do late, but with her I have no choice. She’s chaotic, spontaneous, consistently late, and will be my damn undoing. I look up to see her bouncing happily through the crowd, and an intrinsic smile crosses my face.

  She is so beautiful.

  She wraps her arms around me and kisses me with her sweet lips. “Hello, my Twinkle,” she breathes.

  I smile as I envelope her in my arms and inhale her scent.

  I’ve missed her today.

  I would give anything to be able tell her just how much.

  “Hello, my Emmaline.”

  She links her arm through mine and we start to walk down the street. “Where is your car?” she asks.

  “I thought we might go shopping and then get dinner out.”

  “Oh,” she replies sounding surprised.

  I smirk down at her and raise my eyebrow in question. “You don’t want to eat out?”

  She shrugs. “Yes, I suppose.” “Just suppose?”

  “Meh, I’ll be honest. No restaurant cooks as good as you do. I am happiest in your kitchen.” She goes up on her toes to kiss me as we walk and pulls my face down to hers. I happily oblige. What must we look like to the outside world? Everywhere we go, we carry on like love struck teenagers, kissing and cuddling, unable to keep our hands off each other while smiling like idiots.

  I can’t help it.

  She makes me feel like a pubescent fifteen-year-old.

  “Did you have a nice day?” she asks.

  “It was okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “Well, I wasn’t with you, so yes. Just okay.”

  Her beaming smile is contagious and my own face lights up as we walk up the street for a while longer. “Shall we go in here?” I ask as I gesture to the boutique in front of us.

  She stops. “You want to buy yourself a dress?” She smirks as she puts her hands on her hips.

  I laugh out loud and raise a brow. “I was thinking I would buy some lingerie.” I take her in my arms and pull her hips into my semi-hard cock that’s hidden beneath my large jacket. “Would you still like me if I dress up in women’s clothing?” I tease.

  She kisses me as she laughs freely. “I would love you however you chose to dress.”

  My heart freefalls and her face drops at the realization of what she has just said. “I mean...” She tries to correct herself.

  “I know what you meant,” I assure her.

  We stand still for a moment, our eyes fixed on each other.

  “I didn’t mean…” she whispers as she picks up my hand.

  “I know,” I reply quickly as I squeeze her hand in mine. I don’t want her to tell me she doesn’t love me.

  Some things are best left unsaid.

  I turn to the designer shop in front of us. “I wanted to buy you a dress.”

  “Why?”

  “We have that dinner on Friday night, remember?” I smile, knowing this could go one of two ways.

  She frowns. “Can’t I wear a dress I already have?”

  “It’s black tie. Do you have a black tie dress?”

  She grimaces. “I hate that shit.” She raises her eyebrows. “You know I don’t have a black tie dress, Alastar. You packed my clothes for me, remember?”

  I smile knowing she only calls me Alastar when she is annoyed.

  “Yes, I do know that.” I smile. “So let’s buy you a new one.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Maybe you should just go on your own. I’m not into these kind of events.”

  “You gave me the week, remember?” I ask. I bend and hold her close. “I’m not into these kind of things, either.”

  We kiss and she stares up at me lovingly.

  “In five days I have to leave you, and I want to have you in my arms for those last few days,” I whisper.

  I feel her resistance slide. “You say that like you are dying or something.” She smirks.

  I stare at her.

  She steps back from me and frowns. “Why did your face just drop when I said that?”

  “No reason. It… it didn’t,” I stammer.

  She stands still for a moment, her eyes searching mine.

  Fuck, don’t look at me like that.

  “Is there something wrong, Twinkle? Are you sick?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  I walk into the shop to escape her glare, but she stands still on the curb as she thinks before finally she follows. I start to flick through the racks of dresses as a distraction.

  She wraps her arms around me from behind. “Are you okay?” she whispers into my back.

  I nod and drop my head, unable to speak.

  In all honesty, I’m not.

  I know I’m not, but I had to have this time with her. I couldn’t help myself, and I know it’s selfish, and I know that this wasn’t in the plan. But hell, I didn’t… I mean… I couldn’t stop myself. What started as a desire for one more night with her has quickly spun out of control.

  “Dress?” I whisper.

  She fakes a smile and I hope she didn’t see the momentary crack in my mask.

  She steps forward and starts to go through the racks of clothing beside me.

  “Can I help you with anything?” the assistant asks.

  “No, thank you. Just looking,” I tell her.

  She smiles politely and disappears behind the counter.

  I pull a long, red, slinky number from the rack and watch as Em turns up her nose.

  “No?” I ask.

  She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “No.”

  I smirk as I feel my strength return.

  We both search the racks again and I pull out a black gown.

  She twists her mouth to the side in thought as she scans it up and down.

  “Mmm. That’s okay.” She scrunches up her face. “I guess.”

  I grin because she’s adorable. I flick through the rack again and pull out a dress made of rose patterned material.

  She widens her eyes and sticks her pointer finger down her throat.

  “You don’t like?” I smirk.

  “Bedspread,” she whispers under her breath.

  “Are you always this picky?” I whisper.

  “Always.”

  “How did you give me a second look then?” I smirk.

  “I didn’t, it was that damn Irish accent that hooked me like a fish.” She continues looking through the racks.

  “Hook, line and sinker,” I whisper under my breath.

  She slaps me hard on the behind and the lady behind the counter frowns.

  “Behave,” I whisper as my eyes glance at the shop assistant.

  “No,” she snaps.

  She pulls out a white dress and holds it up to her body. “I like this one.”

  I hand her the black and the red one. “Try them all on.”

  She smiles, kisses me softly, and then disappears into the changing room

  I take a seat on the large, black, velvet wingback chair and wait.

  And wait.

  And wait.

  “What are you doing in there?” I ask.

  “Nothing. I don’t like the red or the black.”

  I frown. “I didn’t get to see them on. Show me.”

  “Nope.”

  I shake my head in frustration.

  I wait for another five minutes. Oh, this is ridiculous. How long can it take to put a dress on?

  “Oh shit, Alastar, this dress is really expensive,” she whispers as she hesitates for a moment. “Don’t worry, we will go to a cheaper shop,” she calls from the changing room.

  “Stop it!” I snap. “Get it on and get out here.”

  “Twinkle, it’s a lot.”

  “It’s only money.” I sigh. Why would she even look at the price tag?

  She laughs out loud from behind the curtain and it’s a sound that penetrates through my bones. She pulls the dressing room curtain back and beams happily at me as she brushes her hands nervously on her behind.

  She likes this dre
ss.

  I love this dress.

  Emotion fills me. She is without a doubt the most beautiful woman I think I have ever seen.

  “You like?” she breathes nervously as she looks down at herself.

  It’s all I can do not to take her in my arms and kiss her madly. “I love.”

  In the end I do kiss her gently, restraining myself from showing her my carnal appreciation.

  She giggles against my lips. “As much as I love you in lingerie?”

  I laugh out loud. This woman, this breath of fresh air that has come into my life and spun it completely on its head, loves the idea of me in women’s underwear.

  I smile as I pay the cashier for her dress. The funny thing is, if she genuinely asked me to wear lingerie...

  I probably would.

  For at this moment, there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for her.

  I am completely and utterly smitten.

  Emerson

  “Ouch! You’re burning my hair,” I cry as I try to pull away from my Dr. Evil hairdresser, Brielle.

  “Shut up.” She pulls my hair as she puts it into the hot roller. “It has to be tight if you want the curls to stay in.”

  We are in the main bathroom of Alastar’s house and it’s early Friday evening, before the gala ball. Brielle is doing my hair, although at this stage I really wish she wasn’t. I should have listened to Twinkle and booked in at the hairdressers for some pain free styling.

  “I want some hair left at the end of this night, you know?” I frown as she pulls my hair again and I wince in pain. I put my hands up to my scalp. “You’re fucking pulling it out,” I half yell.

  “Shut the fuck up!” she snaps as she holds the comb between her teeth in concentration. “You are the worst client ever.”

  “Yeah, well, trust me, making people bald is not something to be proud of.”

  She rips my hair again and I wince.

  Alastar puts his head around the corner. “Everything okay in here?” he asks as he looks between the two of us, unsure of what we are doing.

  “Yes, she’s being a wimp. No pain, no gain,” Brielle mutters with the comb still between her teeth.

  I smile and hold out my hand for him. He bends and kisses me on the cheek. Embarrassment temporarily fills me. He is used to seeing beautiful women getting their hair done while drinking green blended juices and acting glamorous. Here I am, too tight to go the hairdresser, perched on the toilet with the lid down, drinking wine with my best friend who is literally scalping me while we swear and curse at each other. I am the opposite of glamorous. I am the anti-glamour.

  My eyes drop down Alastar’s body. He is wearing black pants and a crisp white shirt which is finished off with a black bow tie. His wavy dark hair is sitting in the best messy style on the planet, and his big, beautiful lips are primed for kissing.

  He stands leaning on the doorframe watching Brielle at work.

  I am in a robe, my make up is done, and I will slip into my dress as soon as Dr. Evil finishes my hair.

  He feels me watching him and he raises a brow.

  “You look hot.” I smile as my eyes drop down his body.

  His eyes flash to Brielle, and I know he doesn’t feel comfortable with me saying that in front of her.

  “You do.” Brielle smiles around her comb as she inspects him herself. “Smoking,” she adds.

  He smiles and, feeling uncomfortable with the compliments, nods and exits the room.

  “I have to admit,” Brielle whispers. “He is gorgeous.”

  I shake my head as I stare at my reflection in the mirror and blow out a deflated breath. “Gorgeous doesn’t even come close, Brelly. I like his insides better than I like his outsides.”

  “God, his outsides are pretty fucking awesome.” She rips a hot roller out of my hair and I wince in pain.

  “I know.” I sigh sadly.

  “Why does he have to live on the other side of the world?” she whispers as she begins to comb out the curls.

  “He’s leaving on Tuesday.”

  “To go where.”

  “Travelling.”

  “How long for?”

  “He won’t be back before we go home,” I murmur sadly.

  Her horrified eyes meet mine in the mirror. “So, what? That’s it then?”

  I nod as a sick feeling passes over me. “Yep.” I stare at my reflection in the mirror. “I only have him for three more days.”

  * * *

  Two hours later and the reception room is in full swing, fancy, and crammed with beautiful people. Alastar is at my side and we are drinking champagne.

  His arm slips around my waist and he pulls me to him. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” he whispers closely in my ear before he kisses me on my cheek.

  I smile into him. “About a hundred times already.”

  “I will tell you a hundred more before the night is out.” He kisses me on the lips and my eyes dart around to the people surrounding us. “We are in public.” I smirk. “People will notice.”

  He smiles as he picks up my hand and kisses the back of it. “I want people to notice. I want them to see the beautiful girl I am with tonight.”

  My cheeks begin to heat. “I imagine you have bought some pretty beautiful dates to these sort of things before. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  He shakes his head subtly. “I have never bought a date to a work function before.”

  I frown. “Why not?”

  “I haven’t had anyone I wanted to share this with.”

  My eyes hold his. What’s going on here? Am I imagining this feeling of closeness between us? This ends in three days, and instead of falling further into the Twinkle abyss, I need to snap myself out of it.

  His hand cups my face tenderly and he smiles down at me.

  “Are you trying to make me fall for you?” I whisper as my eyes search his.

  A trace of a smile crosses his face. “Maybe, is it working?” he murmurs as he kisses me gently. His lips hold mine with suction, but no tongue, my eyes closed in reverence. I’ve never been kissed the way he kisses me. He kisses me to my bones and every cell in my body closes her eyes, unable to think of anything else but the beautiful man who is taking front and center stage of everything.

  “It is,” I whisper into his lips, I can’t lie. I can’t tell him I don’t have feelings for him when I damn well do. I am falling for him and I know I’m on the precipice of heartache and I still can’t make myself take a step back.

  He smiles a breathtaking smile, kisses me again, and then pulls back to take my hand in his. I look at the people around us, some staring, some talking deep in discussion, and others not even noticing. My equilibrium is totally haywire.

  He just got me to admit that I am falling for him and I close my eyes in regret.

  What am I doing?

  Don’t do this to yourself, Emerson. I get a visual of myself crying on Tuesday and begging him not to go, to take me with him. I see myself promising him anything to make him stay, and yet he will go anyway. I already know that he will.

  “I’m going to go the bathroom.” I fake a smile.

  “Over on the far wall. Do you want me to come?” he asks as he puts his hand around my waist.

  “No, I’m okay. Thank you.” I smile and he kisses me quickly.

  I walk up the hall and finally find the swanky, black marble toilets and walk into the cubicle to close the door.

  I sit there for five minutes with my heart hammering as the last four days’ swirl through my mind like a Tornado. Laughter, love making, and dreaming by the fire every night with Alastar. Is there more to life than feeling like this? I honestly can’t imagine that there is.

  The feeling I have for this man is completely different to what I had for Liam, my ex-boyfriend, and we have hardly even scratched the surface of what we could be together.

  We barely know each other, so why do I feel like I know everything about him? I feel like nobody knows me or gets me better t
han he does.

  A sick sinking feeling of awakening runs through me.

  I need to regain a little of my resistance, and I need to regain it fast, because I’m scared I’m falling in love with the brightest star in whole of the galaxy.

  * * *

  Dinner is over and we are sitting at the table with the rest of his friends from the photography industry. The real power people. This is an awards night and Alastar is up for an award for one of his pictures. Everyone looks amazing in their black ties and beautiful dresses. I have to admit; this is the most fun I have ever had at a snazzy event. We are all drinking expensive champagne and Twinkle is introducing me to everyone as his girlfriend. If this is what it feels like to be his girlfriend, sign me up. I am totally addicted. I have a really nice girl seated next to me and we are getting on famously. She is the girlfriend of a fellow photographer and is a similar age to me. Alastar’s arm is slung over the back of my chair as he talks to the man next to him, but every now and then I feel his fingertips run over my shoulder blade as if he has to touch me. It’s a comforting feeling, one I never want to end.

  The awards are on the stage, which is lit by several spotlights, and everyone is clapping and cheering. Some of the victory speeches have been hilarious. Artistic people are freaking weird sometimes.

  The room is full with laughter. Finally, they get to the category that Alastar has been nominated in.

  “The most thought provoking image,” the handsome man in a black suit reads. “The nominees are: Bishelle McGuire. Star. Mario Grenalda.”

  Everyone claps and I kiss my Twinkle on the cheek in congratulations. His smile is beaming.

  The handsome man opens the sealed envelope and the room holds their collective breath.

  “The winner of the most thought provoking image is…” He hesitates for effect. “Star!”

  The room erupts into cheers and clapping. Seemingly embarrassed, he kisses me gently on the cheek and stands and takes his place in the centre of the stage.

  His winning photograph is shown on the large screen behind the stage with the quote underneath it:

  Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow. ~ Aesop

  It’s a tree. The tree itself looks beautiful, green and healthy.

 

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