Page 8 of Take 2

Chapter Six

Eleven Years Ago

A nne Hathaway looks just as giddy and excited as I always feel for the Academy Awards. She and James Franco make light of hosting to appeal to a younger demographic, and her joke that she didn’t get nominated this year despite getting naked in Love & Other Drugs results in a pinch on my arm.

“ Get naked, get nominated would definitely work for you.”

I look up and am not remotely surprised to find a shit-eating grin on my favorite lips. “It would actually be quite awkward for the writer to get naked.”

“You may know more about movies,” Ryan says, “but my area of expertise is you naked.”

My cheeks heat. “Can we please not talk about getting naked around your parents?”

“First of all, they’re in the other room.”

“They’ll be back any second.”

“Second, I’m going to do so much more than talk about you being naked tonight.”

My brain says there is a possibility of finding myself in a very embarrassing situation with my boyfriend’s parents, even as my body says, yes please. “We are not having sex in your parents’ house,” I whisper.

“We’ve had sex in your parents’ house.”

“Because I live there. And it’s never when they are present.”

He slides his hand down my thigh, and I slap it away. His groan at the top of my head vibrates through me like I’m a tuning fork. “What movie is going to win best picture?”

“ Black Swan .” Not that I’m any more likely to predict the outcomes of these, but I have gotten better at feigning confidence and snapping out quick answers. Honestly, it’s up in the air. This was such a great year. Yes, I think that every year, but really. This year had incredible movies.

“Okay, I think it’s Inception.”

“You didn’t even like Inception .”

“Exactly why I assume it’ll win.” Ryan has gotten out of his movie comfort zone with me, and it’s kind of adorable to watch. “If I’m right, we have sex tonight.”

“Ryan! We do not bet on the Oscars!”

“Is it considered betting if there’s no money involved?”

“Yes. This currency never loses its value.” I throw him a mock-seductive bob of my eyebrows.

“I agree.” He squeezes my hip. “You’re not helping.”

“We’re leaving tomorrow. Settle down.”

“If Black Swan doesn’t win, we’re having sex.”

I almost spit out my champagne. “Even if we did bet on Oscars, that’s not how any of that works. You don’t even have to be, right? That’s a ninety percent chance I lose!”

“Bella, there’s a ten percent chance you win the award prediction and a ninety percent chance you win later.” His thumb rubs circles on my hip, and heat pools low in my belly.

“You’re impossible.”

“Of course, I’m running late,” Ryan’s mom says as she bustles into the living room, “but I hope this meets your Academy Awards expectations.”

“Oh, Karen, you didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

She lays out mini crab cakes, filled puff pastries, cheeses, oysters, bacon-wrapped dates, the list goes on. “Oh, it’s no trouble. I know this is important to you, and it was so sweet of you to come out here for Anna’s competition.”

“The show is important to me,” I say, “but this spread is a big bonus. Thank you.”

Ryan loosens his hold on me when his mother sits on my other side.

Nothing like a mom to cool down sexual tension.

“My pleasure, sweetie. Frankly, I’ve been excited to see how you two celebrate the Oscars ever since I heard about last year’s.

Ryan wasn’t kidding when he said you dress the part.

” She sweeps a hand over my gold silk skirt.

This year’s dress is flowy rather than form-fitting since I’m far more willing to let my friends see the shape of my ass than my boyfriend’s parents.

“Did I do it right?” Ryan’s sister, Anna, comes twirling out from the hallway in a pink dress that flares around the tops of her thighs. Her heels make her long legs look endless. If her parents had genetically engineered her to be a ballerina, they couldn’t have been more successful.

“You look amazing,” I say.

“I think some of the skirt is missing,” Ryan’s dad, Rob, says as he walks into the room from the opposite side.”

“Daddy, I was wearing less and kicking my legs up in the air on a stage in front of hundreds of people earlier.” She has more confidence at seventeen than I will ever have in my entire life.

Ryan reaches across me as his dad takes a seat in an armchair. “Have you ever eaten raw oysters?” He holds one in front of me with a skeptical gleam in his eyes.

“No, but I’m excited to try them.” Because Ryan’s mom got them so that we could have a watch party for me. So it doesn’t matter if they look like snot. I’m going to try one.

I pick one up but lean in to whisper to Ryan first. “How do I do this?”

“Let it slide into your mouth and swallow.”

Those are words I did not need muttered into my ear right now, and I can’t even punish him for it because we’re surrounded by his family.

Most of my time spent with them is without Ryan, and I now realize that’s a blessing.

He’s usually on the field while we cheer from the stands or traveling with the team while I travel with his parents or mine.

If my eyes are successfully communicating, I will make you pay for that later, like they should, then his are responding with, Bring it on.

I take a breath and do as he instructed.

The oyster slides down my throat, and that’s not so bad, but Ryan’s eyes on me sure are.

His lips brush my ear as he whispers, “They’re supposed to be aphrodisiacs. ”

And I officially have no idea what’s happening at the eighty-third Academy Awards.

When Toy Story 3 wins best animated feature, Karen tells us she cried when she watched it.

Anna gets on her feet to dance to “I See the Light” from Tangled, and I think she’s more likely to be on that stage at the Kodak Theatre someday than I am.

Every time Black Swan loses an award, Ryan winks at me.

When Rob steps out of the room, Karen lets Anna sneak a sip of her wine.

Natalie Portman wins actress in a leading role, and to be extra cheeky, I text Ryan, I’m going to win.

I glance at his phone when it lights up with a message from ‘Bella My Girlfriend,’ but he turns it away from me as he responds.

Hot Boyfriend Ryan: You absolutely are. But Black Swan is not.

The King’s Speech wins best picture, and Ryan and I are the only ones who have seen it.

By the time we’ve helped Karen clean up, I’m exhausted and collapse back onto Ryan’s bed with my arms outstretched and legs hanging over the side.

“Too tired to put on pajamas?” he says. “My plan has worked perfectly.”

The bed sinks around me as Ryan drops to hold himself over me. My eyes stay shut as he brushes his fingers up my neck. “I have a theory.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“It’s an idea to explain something.”

I laugh and open my eyes. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“You like it. Anyway, my theory is that you tie your hair up thinking it will make you less sexy and thus stifle my attraction to you. But you are wrong because I love seeing the curve of your neck.” He lays a kiss on it, and my thighs clench.

Apparently, he noticed the pattern that I wear my hair down when I really want to be attractive.

And it doesn’t really matter. More heat rushes up my neck at that happy thought.

“I like your neck, too.” I slide my hand under the back of his collar. “Though you do look great in a bow tie.” My voice is thick, and I lie to myself that it’s because I’m tired.

“Thanks for learning to tie it for me.”

My fingers drift to it of their own volition.

I pull the knot out and unbutton his collar.

It’s still true that last year, a bow tie would have been a problem because I would not have had the pleasure of taking it off him.

I let it hang down from his neck and continue unbuttoning.

The words float through my mind to remind him we are not having sex here, but even if I possessed the motivation to say them, I can’t now that he’s kissing me.

The job of undoing these buttons feels frantic when his tongue is stroking mine.

His mouth moves to my neck, and a moan slips out of me. “Shit, Ryan, they’re going to hear.”

“The walls are thick enough.”

“I hope you know that because you’ve never heard them having sex rather than because you’ve done it so many times.”

He pulls me back and meets my eyes with a cold stare. “Do not sabotage this by talking about my parents having sex.”

“I would never.” The sentence is half giggled, my eyes crinkling at the corners because it’s impossible to be stone-faced when I tease him.

His hand slides up my thigh, under my skirt. “Happy anniversary, Bella.” He nibbles at my neck while his fingers find the hem of my panties.

“It’s not our anniversary.” My fingers dig into his shoulders when he puffs out a breath upon finding me wet. “Our first kiss was on March seventh.” My voice is breathy. “We didn’t even know each other this time last year.”

“The date doesn’t matter, babe. Our anniversary is the Oscars.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that kind of logic.” I undo his pants with trembling hands.

“You looked so hot that night. I wanted to fuck you in that dress so bad.”

He has since then. It was a Christmas request.

“Should I take that into consideration from now on when I shop for my Oscars dresses?” His fingers pull away so he can take off his shirt, which I’m tugging at.

He sweeps his undershirt off him next and hurls it toward the pillows, leaving me with a drool-worthy view of his chest and abs. “Whether we can have sex in them?”

He kisses me harder this time. I groan into his mouth when he squeezes my boob, but he doesn’t do anything in the way of taking the dress off. “Yeah. I want to fuck you in all of your Oscars dresses. And someday, your own Oscar will be in the room when I do.”

I bite down on my lips, his, my hand, a pillow, to muffle my screams as my mind goes so blank I might not be able to say who won anything tonight.

Except for me. I won big.