Scandalized

by Ivy Owens

“You’re a hot guy. You should be dating.” “You’re a beautiful woman. You shouldn’t be lied to.”

“In my defense, I haven’t slept in…” I calculate. “Well over thirty hours. You have no idea the stuff that’s reeling through here.” I press my index finger to my temple. “I really should just go to bed.” He glances over my shoulder and then pulls his sleeve back to check the time. “Try me.” “You’re asking to be scandalized.” He laughs, a round, open-mouthed sound. “I promise, you can’t shock me.” Is that right? I grin at him. “Are you daring me?” “Absolutely.”

“Watching you play a piano would be like watching porn.” This makes him smirk. “Is that what you’d like to watch me do?” “Frankly I’d watch those hands flip through an encyclopedia if it was my only option.” “It’s not your only option.” These words land seductively between us. “But sure.” He lifts a finger, pretending to flag down the waitress. “They probably have a book behind the bar somewhere.”

He angles his body toward me, nostrils flared. “Do you blush like this when you come?” “I don’t know,” I admit with a fragile edge to my voice.

“I liked that I could just be a man with you,” he says. “That I didn’t have to live up to some expectation and that you weren’t nervous with me. I liked that you were real. I never get real, ever.” He stares at me for several tense seconds. “But I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“Come on. I’m trying to make things right.” Unexpectedly, my heart tightens in a painful pinch. “Why?” “Because I’ve thought of nothing but you for the past thirty-six hours.”

And… that’s it? He would just let me leave? I feel like a punctured balloon. My thoughts are a swirling storm of relief and lust and irritation and ambition and infatuation. Alec Kim has the wildest chemical effect on my blood.

“Just thinking,” he says, dragging his touch down over my breastbone, between my breasts. “Thinking what?” He exhales slowly. “That I’ve felt you here. That I fucked you here.”

I think, This is a moment I will remember for the entire rest of my life. No matter what happens after this, I will file tonight under Happiness.

“You’re so beautiful it makes me feel this sweet sort of anguish. I’m desperate for you, Gigi.” “Desperate for me? Please. I’m a sure thing.”

“Before I return to London, I’d like to state for the record that I claim this bottom lip.” He shifts his touch. “But also this single freckle on your shoulder. I’ve gone hunting and it’s your only one.” He gives me a thoughtful once-over. “Your eyes when you laugh—they’re also mine. The curve of your spine when you’re coming. The soft skin of your thighs against my neck.” His hand returns, cupping me between my legs. “And this, right here. I’m greedy for these things.”

“You’re making that up.” “You know I’m not.” “How do you possibly know about it?” he asks. “You won’t even watch my show.” “Eden showed me.” I take a deep breath, pressing my hand to his chest. “She follows it. Asked me if they really do taste like candy.” He takes a second to process this. “Asked you whether my dimples taste like candy?” His next laugh comes out as a quiet puff of air, and he looks mildly horrified. “People wonder this?” “That’s probably the most innocent thing they imagine tasting, Alec.” He frowns, and I kiss his sweet pout. “Well, do they?” he asks, finally, grinning. “Do they what?” “Taste like sugar.” “No.” “What do they taste like?” “Happiness.”

“You wouldn’t need a ticket, Gigi. I’m not suggesting you go stand in line for an autograph. You’d come as my guest. Bring Eden.” I cover his mouth. “Careful what you offer. She kept it surprisingly bottled up last night. If you invite her today, she might show up wearing a shirt with your face on it. Or even worse: a shirt with your torso on it.” “It’s all fine,” he says, “as long as she’s aware the dimples are taken.” I cup his face, kissing each cheek. “Gigi’s bottom lip approves.”

“You’re going to make me love you, aren’t you?” He doesn’t even falter, in step or breath. He says only, “I’m sure going to try.”