Page 31 of Under Your Scars

“Your wish is my command,” he purrs, and before I have a chance to comprehend it, I feel him wrap his arm around my waist, spin me to face him, and then with a devilishly handsome smile, he sends us tumbling down to the ground into the whimsical blooms. He catches the weight of us both with ease and I land with a tiny thud on my back. He’s leaning over me, resting his weight on one forearm as he uses his free hand to stroke his thumb across my cheek with gentle tenderness. We exchange that cliché moment where our gazes flicker to each other’s lips, and he presses his mouth to mine with something I can only describe as adoration. It’s light and chaste—nothing like the way he kissed me in his car last night.

That kiss had been lustful and harsh, full of intoxicating desire. The way he’s kissing me now feels like a promise of something more. It feels like the future.

“How did you know I love baby’s breath?”

“You have a picture on your desk at your college graduation holding a bouquet of it. It’s also your desktop background on your work computer.”

I have to say that I’m shocked that he actually paid attention to something like that.

I see more than you think I do.

He said that to me the first time I was in his office, and I foolishly thought he was talking about the city. I didn’t realize he was committing tiny details aboutmeto memory.

Christian checks his watch and sighs. “We should go back,” he murmurs against my lips, and then pushes up onto his knees before helping me to my feet.

Before we leave the garden, we do our best to fix the crooked and squished flowers we were lying in. He plucks a stem from the plant and gently sticks the buds into my French twist.

As much as I’d love to spend more time with him, he’s right—we need to go back. The rest of the tour is probably getting ready to shadow that class right about now, and it will look bad if we’re missing. He takes my hand again and leads us back to the campus, cutting through a few quiet corridors that let us out right next to the classroom, arriving there seconds before the rest of the tour meets us.

As we’re all gathered in the hallway, I can see a few of the children in the classroom excitedly pointing at Christian. He must be a regular visitor if seeing him lights them all up like this.

We’re there for a few long minutes, the attorneys now talking amongst themselves while Christian’s attention is wholly occupied by staring at me. I pretend not to notice by taking my time to observe the artwork on the walls of the hallway. Finger paintings and coloring book pages, macaroni art and construction paper flowers, watercolors and charcoal sketches.

I flip open an old Valentine’s Day card stapled to the wall and smile at the cute poem scribbled inside. I feel a soft tug on the bottom of my skirt. I look down to find a girl, no older than four, with the cutest button nose I’ve ever seen and a purple bow in her hair looking up at me with curious eyes. A bunny stuffed animal is tucked into the crook of her elbow. I squat down.

“Hi. What’s your name?”

She blinks, her blue eyes sparkling. “Caroline.”

“Hi Caroline. I like your bow. Purple is my favorite color.”

“Mine too!” she excitedly squeals. She looks at Christian and then back at me and gives me an adorable, toothy grin. “You’re pretty. Are you Mrs. Reeves?”

I clear my throat uncomfortably with a nervous flush pooling in my cheeks. “Thank you, sweetie, but no, I’m not Mrs. Reeves. My name’s Elena.”

She tugs me closer and cups her hand around my ear as if to tell me a secret, and shevery loudlywhispers, “Mr. Reeves thinks you’re pretty too, ‘cause he won’t stop looking at you.”

While I knew that there was a bowling alley within the campus, I expected five lanes, a small concession stand, and maybe a little arcade.

What I didnotexpect was the most insane looking bowling alley to exist in the universe. There are at least twenty lanes, two different fast-food restaurants, an arcade the size of Alaska, and an indoor go-kart track. Christian certainly spared no expense when it came to this place.

The attorneys all left after the meeting with the Board of Directors, of which he is Chairman, leaving Christian and I alone. The bowling tournament is down to the quarterfinals. I’m halfway into a strawberry milkshake when Christian slides into the booth next to me, his arm resting on the backrest and his hand thrown over my shoulder.

“So? What do you think of everything? Did I do good?”

I blink at him and swallow a mouthful of my shake. “You mean with the orphanage?” He nods, and I sigh. “God, Mr. Reeves, this is amazing. I’ve heard about everything you’ve done for these kids but to see it for myself…I have no words. Also, this milkshake?” I hold it up for emphasis and sing in a one-woman chorus like angels are descending. “Ten out of ten.”

I lick the whipped cream off my straw. He’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes and a smile on his face that screams trouble.

“What?” I ask around a mouthful of sugar. He lifts up his thumb and gathers some stray whipped cream from the corner of my mouth. Then, he innocently licks his thumb, though my damn vagina couldn’t have found the action any more obscene judging by the way it just fluttered.

He nods towards one of the empty lanes. “Do you bowl?”

I scoff. “Doyoubowl? Kinda seems like an activity that’s beneath royalty such as yourself.”

“How about a wager? Let’s play one full game. If I win, I get to take you on a date.”

I hum. “And if I win?”