CHAPTER 23
Sam and Malik are indulged into a small talk. Being alone with Liam in the back is nothing but an ingredient for catastrophe. I'm almost yielding to this his little, enticing ploy of toying with my weak reserves.
"Oh God." I squirm, startled, Liam's hand reaching the apex of my thighs.
"What?" Sam cocks her head back.
Can't you be discreet? My subconscious yells, and back onto her seat, scowling.
"Nothing, I think I bit my tongue," I reply, feeling like the best liar in the world.
I hope they buy it.
"Damn you," I mutter soundlessly, eyeing Liam who grins like a child.
"Are you okay, Ms. Jones?" He keeps sliding his fingers smoothly all over my skin . . . heading to my— Oh no!
My tummy tightens, a foreign arousal invading me. "Um, yeah," I utter and grab his hand at the same time.
I swear I may start moaning all the saints' names if I don't deal with this playboy hiding behind an 18th century gentleman.
"Are you sure, Professor?" Malik asks softly, and it sounds more of a mockery. "Because you sound like you've been stung by a bee," he adds, and the laughter fills the car.
Even Liam laughs this time. The audacity he has! I scowl.
"Very funny," I give out a sarcastic remark.
"Indeed," he mouths. I end up smiling as he struggles to get his hand away from my grip. Pervert!
Why do you like his game, nevertheless? My subconscious snickers, finding me absurd for my own good.
"Are you enjoying the sight of Miami, Ms. Jones?" he asks out of nowhere, making it sound like a normal conversation. God, help me.
"Yes, so far so good," I hardly answer, my voice as distracted as my body and mind.
This scheming Englishman! And here I thought he's all decent and grown up. Well, I'm not complaining, am I?
"Really?" Liam quips, caressing his strong fingers smoothly on my skin. I shudder at his touch, my body responding so easily, and my sex goddess keeps spiraling her sexy belly dance, dressed in a red Arabian costume with gold waist chain.
"Yes, it's not much different from L.A," I reply in a low voice, possibly hoarsely? I can't even tell, thanks to Liam's obscenity.
"I see." He now skittles his fingers tentatively to my inner thighs, making me undecided if it's clever of me to have worn a short skirt or not.
My breath quickens, feeling him nearing my panties. Holy no! I bind my legs briskly, stopping him, yet wanting him.
I'd really love to let him be as it already takes me heights, but I'm afraid they may call 911 thinking that I got bitten by a black mamba.
However, I can’t help but smile at Liam's grinning face that looks radiant than ever with all the streetlights reflected on his eyes and skin. He's such a breathtaking sight, and his hands are incorrigibly playful.
What do I do with him? I mentally face-palm myself.
"Stop it," I mouth, staring at him.
"No," Liam returns similarly, and we both laugh in the same style.
Girl, you're going to get caught at this rate! My subconscious warns, but I'm not sure if there's talking to me at this point.
We drop by the bistro for dinner. Great, I'm famished. I always find it difficult eating in motion so I might as well have my fill now.
The tempting aroma makes my mouth succulent as we grab the menu. The place is warm and chic, beach style, packed with both the locals and foreigners.
"This looks yummy," Sam enthuses greedily, eyeing the pictured menu. "I'll have the dressed crab," she adds, and I don't really understand why people eat something that needs a hammer to break down.
I'm not a seafood enthusiast, I guess.
"I'll have chips and grilled tuna," I say in similar manner, thanking heavens my tummy is behaving splendidly.
"I'll have the same," Liam says quite casually, our glances meet. His smile is indeed provocative, not so easy to grasp.
But I've mastered plenty of him by now.
Malik prefers meat over fish, so he orders his fair share of a grilled steak with asparagus. "Oh, with some chips and salad, please." He grins innocently, and I huff softly. "Don't judge me, Professor! I'm very hungry," he snaps.
I stifle a chuckle. "I haven't said a thing, have I?"
"But you thought, I'm sure of it." He shoots me an accusing index.
"Shut up," I hiss laughingly, and catch Sam staring sideways.
The dinner goes smoothly amid chatting and laughing. We depart immediately after having a little cocktail for dessert. I don't even realize the time when we finally arrive at Malik's house, somewhere near the ocean. How lovely.
When we finally get out of the car, Jamal greets us once again. Oh, he's fast. I think he had to arrive here first, and that's why he left solo from the airport. He carefully takes our luggage in one go, except Liam's duffel bag which he carries it himself.
"Sweetie, what do you have to say about this place?" Sam whispers in my ear, making me shudder in a startle.
Jeez! She's grinning crazily with her knowing look.
"I can plainly rate it five stars," I whisper back and we share a discreet laughter. I feel five again, eyeing the luxurious modern villa in front of my eyes.
It is furnished in white, and half of it is built with glass, which includes the huge ceiling-tall windows and all the front doors. I can almost see the inside and its golden fluorescent lights. Such a lavish people live in, huh? My subconscious is ogling with doodle eyes, sighing dreamily.
Throwing my glance further, there's a vast swimming pool at the front yard, adjoined to this lawn garden. Oh my! My water goddess is officially resurrected. Several palm trees from different angles give the place a fine ambience of a little tropical paradise. In Short, it's an amazing house.
"Come in, ladies," Malik announces hospitably. "Welcome to Miami!" He dramatically claps his hands.
"Oh, we already are," Sam prompts, and as always, I only smile at the enthusiasm she exudes.
Liam, on the other hand, looks so well acquainted with the place that he's already heading in. He moves graciously whilst on a phone call that's seemingly important. He must've been here before, evidently. I just suck in a fresh breath and push my way inside, following Malik's lead.
Everyone seems worn-out from the flight. We all enter to our respective rooms without any further ado. I take a few minutes contemplating the features of my bedroom, a full white, including the beddings, except for the aqua blue plush coach and the ocean painting on the wall.
"Beautiful," I mutter, sauntering towards the wide window and see what lies behind the curtains.
It's incredibly marvelous . . . the splendid ocean view coupled with flashy buildings from a far. I smile softly, nostalgia surging like a tornado, ready to swipe me off. Why can't I stop thinking of him? He's stuck in my mind, his lips too, so is his touch. I hug myself instinctively.
"How I wish to feel his arms again," I breathe, shutting my eyes at the fantastic touch of his, imagining him near me.
Oh no! I need to shut these lewd thoughts, for I'm definitely getting sexually frustrated.
I need to change into something comfortable. A sleeping robe? No, maybe a T-shirt dress, I decide. When done, I climb on my bed, that's extremely comfortable, ready to call it a day.
Or maybe not yet, because a knock at the door flips my body over.
"Who is it?" I ask while fixing myself up.
"It's me." Liam's voice hits my senses, and I shriek.
God, what does he want now?
"Just a sec," I tell him hurriedly, trying hard to wipe off my stupid grin. How do I look? I put my messy curls presentable.
Just pathetic and horny! My subconscious answers with glee, enjoying my torments. With a sigh, I open the door.
"I came to say goodnight," Liam says while shutting the door.
"Oh really? I hope you do such a nice gesture to everyone, right?" I blush big time, folding my arms across my chest.
"Not really, I'm not that generous," Liam says with an exhausted sigh, his sexy eyes so tired and sleepy.
Oh, lucky me.
"You're very phony, you know." I smile. He's staring at me ardently, I can see it, and it’s enough to start that shouldering heat I've been trying to undo.
"What are you thinking of?" he asks huskily, a tiny smile tugged on his lips.
"Nothing." I'm just fantasizing about you, maybe? Leaning against the wall, I eye him for a good while, wondering what to do with this mysterious man. He's really my rollercoaster, and I seem to be enthralled at each spin, ignoring the danger, and focus on the thrill only. Oh God!
"Really?" Liam queries, his face slightly furrowed.
"Yes?" I reply innocently, biting my bottom lip. "Is there something else you want, maybe?"
"Ms. Jones," Liam utters gently, closing the distance between us. Oh boy! My heart jumps a mile, my breath hitches. "Are you, by any chance, mistaking me for your kindergarten sweetheart?" he seriously asks.
"My kindergarten sweetheart?" I burst into laughter.
"Yes, because only he can accept this kind of goodnight arrangement." He laughs along, and looks so at ease while doing so, his eyes resembling a calm sea, unlike the first time I met him.
"Oh?" I mutter, having fun.
"Or is it that you are playing hard to get with me?" Liam proceeds and I end up laughing for good, ignoring Sam and anyone else who can possibly hear this moment. "I learned those words from you, if you remember correctly." He grins boyishly, leaning his face closer to mine.
"You've gone crazy," I whisper right near his lips, making my own body heat shoot high. Where is this going, dammit! "But I don't think it's a bad idea." I try to focus.
"What is?" Liam follows the sight of my playful eyes that tail his mouth. I can feel his breathing turning jerky, and no complaints coming from me.
I'm exactly the same.
"This one." I palm his face, and pull his head down for a kiss.
"Oh my," he gasps incredulously, making me chuckle.
Wrapping my waist tight, Liam's body crashes mine in a slow move. Our tongues roll and mingle sweetly, kissing each other deeply, and I melt in his furnace. God, this feels right, but why is it still wrong? I flounder.
Because you're a traitor unless you stop hiding, my subconscious replies coolly, no mockery detected. I cringe.
We keep kissing, Liam's hands caressing my skin softly, my back against the wall. It’s so sweet, so delicious, and still so wrong. I feel the red alert in my head, impelling me to not do anything resultant to regrets. I decide to pull out when I begin losing myself into this bliss, afraid to cross the line.
It's true, we can't do this.
"Okay, this is enough," I utter breathlessly, chuckling.
Catching a breath, Liam bores his eyes into mine, and smiles broadly. "Evidently this is not enough, but I think you're right. Goodnight, Ms. Jones." He playfully lays another soft kiss on my lips, and my good night is guaranteed.
***
When I wake this morning I find my body totally invigorated. I had a dreamless night, which is always a good thing to me. I stretch up a bit, yawning, before opening the curtains to welcome the daylight. It's one of those beautiful mornings. I run for a quick shower without a soap and start making myself presentable.
Plucking some black leggings and a white T-shirt, I slip in them, and then tie my hair into a messy bun. Comfortable enough. With my slippers on, I finally leave the room. Everyone is still asleep judging from this silence. Well, Malik is in the living room.
I smile at his sight.
He is seated cross-legged in a white sectional couch, absentminded. He is immersed into a tablet, a steamed coffee on the side table. The frown of concentration on his face nearly makes me laugh, for it's rare to see him utterly serious. However, he does look dashing in both forms.
"Good morning," I greet him.
He looks up at me, a bit startled. "Hey, Professor. Good morning," he replies with a pleasant smile that could pluck a shining star from the sky.
"I can see." I take down the two wide stairs towards where he is.
"Did you have a nice rest?" he asks tenderly over a sip of coffee.
"Yeah, it was great."
"Glad to hear. Want some coffee? Apparently it's the only thing available here. We should probably go out for breakfast, right?"
"Really? Why don't we just restock the kitchen?" I say suggestively as going out for breakfast feels like a terrible errand for me.
"You mean, buying the groceries and stuff?" Malik seems way surprised.
"Yeah, just the basics," I say.
"And who's going to do the cooking? Because I don't even know how to boil an egg."
"Don't worry, I'll do the cooking," I answer laughingly. I miss doing it.
"You will?" he tags. "Wow, you surely know how to surprise me each day, Professor."
"Give me a break, will you?" I ignore his sarcasm.
The kitchen is sullen. I go through the fridge . . . only to find it totally empty.I thought Jamal lived here? Why is the kitchen so lifeless? Oh well, men will always be men.
"It's sad over there, isn't it?" Malik jokes.
"Yeah, very. Can we go right now?" I ask him.
"As you wish! I'm always up for a homemade meal." Malik is excited, and I only giggle at his cheerful mien.
"Okay, give me just a minute," I tell him, before slipping back into my bedroom. I need to get my wallet first.
Reaching outside, we slip into the dark grey Aston Martin that seems to have been parked for a good while. However, it's all clean and neat. Malik, dressed up in a vest and shorts, settles behind the wheel. It just takes a ten-minutes ride to the supermarket across the street.
"Okay, what are we buying exactly?" Malik queries jovially, his grey eyes full of excitement.
I wonder if he's ever done this shopping thing before; he looks like Alice in a wonderland. I laugh at the way he wanders his gaze around.
"Just push the cart, and I'll do the rest," I tell him while making efforts not to laugh again.
"Sure, Professor." He sighs dramatically.
I pick all the important things we might need including the toiletries, and other hygienic stuff. I add some eggs, vegetables, chicken, bacon and sausages among other few more.
For a moment Malik disappears from my sight, and when I find him, he's sucking a Popsicle whilst holding a bucketful of vanilla ice cream and a box of popsicles at the bucket top.
"Are you having fun?" I ask laughingly.
"Totally." He beams brightly.
Seriously? I just shake my head to the sides, stunned. "Okay, I guess." I shrug.
"I love this shopping thing, it's nice." He grins.
"Oh yeah? Because of having a popsicle so early in the morning?"
"Among other things."
"You're really something." We laugh,
Malik adds a carton of beer, four bottles of wine; two whites and two reds, and I add a gallon of tropical juice and two cartons of drinking water.
"Oh, I totally forgot," he utters, regarding the water.
"I know," I whisper in his ear, before pushing my way to the counter.
Our cart is full, and I'm sure we've got all the necessities. I open my wallet to get my card, but Malik stops me by holding my hand. I widen my eyes open at him.
"Allow me, please," he pleads, and doesn't even give me a chance to retaliate as he's already smiling flirtatiously at the lady who won't stop flushing pink unless we get out of here.
After the supermarket trip, we pass by this small bakery to buy some fresh bread; for which we end up buying more than just a bread. Again, Malik enjoys this new experience.
"Who's going to eat all these pastries, Malik?" I ask, on our way towards the car.
"Professor, you're living with three healthy men now," he says like an old man. "Don't ever underestimate our muscles."
"You know what, I'm done asking questions." I grab the door handle, laughing, and he fills the delicacies inside.
"This was so much fun, Professor," he announces for an umpteenth time, and I love the sound of it.
From all this, I realize that sometimes these rich folks are missing a lot in life than we imagine they don't. Even if their daily lives are filled with glamour and flash, there are still few simple things in life that have greater meaning than any of that, and we should probably be grateful for those little things we have. Good memory and happy moments are what count the most.
By the time we get back to the house Sam is sitting by the pool, tapping on her cellphone absentmindedly. The car pulls over and that's when she finally sees us. She gets up as we approach while laughing at one of Malik's jokes.
"Hey, guys, we've been trying to reach you in hours! Where have you been?" She looks agitated as though we were trying to elope.
Malik and I share a glance, for it hasn't been that long since we left; hours is a very huge exaggeration. Well, that's Sam . . . queen of drama.
"Well, as you can see . . ." Malik lifts one of the bags to let her see clearly. "We went to buy some stuff for the house, professor's orders." He grins my way, his playfulness everlastingly stuck to him.
"Oh, great," Sam answers with a tiny smile, stretching her arms with a yawn. She is wearing shorts and a hoodie, her long legs adorned with fluffy slippers. "I don't even have a toothbrush and the bathroom is totally empty."
"Where is Liam?" Malik asks as we move closer, his eyes scanning around for any trace of Mr. Intense.
And as always, my curiosity shoots beyond reasonable range, wondering about the same thing.
"I think he went to shower or something," Sam replies vaguely, shrugging her slender shoulders. "I'm not so sure, but he's inside."
We all head inside where Malik places some of the things we bought on the kitchen countertop, and I do the rest. Now this feels like home, and it's exactly my scene.
The kitchen in its deserving glory.
We both laugh at the sight of the bakery we've brought home. I mean, it's probably enough for an entire week in case I follow that muscled-men speech Malik had given me earlier, let alone if we decide to eat out sometimes.
This is such a waste somehow. But no, I'm going to eat to my heart's content throughout my stay. What's the best part of a vacation? My food goddess seems elated, nodding her big head with clear ascertainment.
"Well, Professor," Malik says, "I did my part of the bargain as agreed. Can I leave now?"
"Yes, Malik, you can leave. I'll take it from here, thank you," I say and he nods.
Before leaving, however, he paces back as though he's forgotten something, and grabs another popsicle. "Sorry, it's just too refreshing," he utters with a wink.
Both Sam and I laugh this time. And here I thought Liam is the only childish one between the two.
Well, not that I'm being biased, but Malik is truly a breath of fresh air.
I start putting all the stuff we bought into their rightful places. While at it, Sam fixes her gaze on me with a big grin on her face. I won't like what's coming, I'm sure of it.
"Say it," I blurt out, on my way towards the refrigerator.
"So how is everything going on between you two?" Sam questions, and I'm starting to get tired of this insinuation.
"Everything is going fine," I answer.
"Come on, Kiki." She gives me playfully nudge. "I'm sure something is up, because you look in love, girlfriend. I know you well enough to notice that you're glowing for some reasons."
Really now? Should I say that I'm glowing and flushing crimson every now and then because of the same guy she's supposedly in love with?
And then what? Will Sam say it's okay? That she understands people can't choose whom to love? I feel like laughing out loud.
No, Kira, you'll never get to hear those words.
I don't realize that I'm zoning out until Sam waves her hand to literally wake me up. I glance at her and smile, wondering how we ended up here.
"Aren't you hungry?" I ask while taking the muffins from their package.
"What?" Sam squints her eyes.
"Try this, it's delicious." I hand her the muffin, and walk over the fridge to place the ice cream and Malik's popsicles.
"You won't tell me?" Sam yells.
"There's absolutely nothing going on between us," I tell her casually while stocking the fridge.
"Really?" Her voice is doubtful.
"Really. I don't know where you got the idea, but I can swear that it's not what you're thinking." I manage to face her this time, for what I've just said is the truth.
"Well-maybe-I-misinterpreted-things," she says, mouthful.
I pause for a second, watching her. I wish I could tell her that Liam is the one I'm crazy about but I don't have the guts to; call me chicken, coward, and all other names to fit the scenario, but this is it. I can't do it.
"Yeah, we just get along fine, nothing more," I stipulate seriously. "And please don't insinuate this again, it's annoying," I add, moving back to my business.
"Sure, if you say so," Sam mutters, and I know she's still unconvinced. "I got a call from the office," she says, and I smell trouble.
"Why? What happened?" I ask warily.
"They were asking if I'm in L.A, that way they can trap me into an emergency work." She takes a seat on the barstool, and I place my arms on the countertop.
"They should go to hell."
"I know, right?"
"Yes. They should find that bitchy assistant you hate so much." I laugh, and I'm sure I've landed myself a new topic.
There's one colleague of hers and they're like North and South.
"It's exactly what I told them. To think I got this vacation instead of her, she must be plotting on how to get back at me right now."
We laugh aloud.
"Well, I can always send a medical emergency saying our grand aunt has passed away," I say.
"Oh boy, this time they'll catch on," says Sam. "Maybe we should say grandpa. We found out we have one in the deepest part of rural Montana."
"Jesus. They'll sue us someday. Play hard that Ivy never finds out about our fake cousinhood."
"She can go to hell."
At last we close the subject and I start making some bacon, scrambled eggs and French toasts. Sam prepares some coffee, and green tea for herself.
We just set the breakfast right here in the kitchen, and in less than thirty minutes we are done.
"And now we're set," I say, sighing.
"Oh, finally," utters Sam ecstatically. "You know, we could've just gone out for breakfast instead of all this work."
"It's just breakfast, Sam, and it's tiring eating out every time."
"Of course not, you simply love playing mommy in the kitchen, which I absolutely love!"
"I bet you do," I say.
Now she smiles, and all of a sudden hugs me from behind. "My Kiki, I love you a lot, you know? You're like a mother I never had, and the best friend ever!"
The best? I highly doubt.
I stay rigid momentarily. Her words unleash the guilt that makes me swallow hard.
"No, I'm not," I argue casually.
I'm a backstabber, unfortunately, and you're going to hate me soon.
"You're not?" she gasps and cocks her head to look me in the eyes.
"I'm not your mother," I mutter so as to back up my earlier response. "My God, you're making me sound like an old lady."
I suddenly remember the things we've been through all these years, and I don't think I can bear to lose her friendship. It's been the only relationship I have had since I lost my family.
Sam calls the guys over for breakfast. It's now that I get to see Mr. Intense, all new and transformed. I glue my eyes on him, and he does exactly the same. His brown hair all messy, in a sexy way, he just looks delicious.
Could there be another perfect guy in my eyes?
It's crazy how in this one wide world you may probably encounter just one person that wouldn't wish to change a thing about them.
Maybe Liam is that person to me, despite any physical default or character flaw that other people may possibly crucify him for.
I think it's what they say, 'when you love someone, you deny the truth, believe a lie, and there'll be times that you'll believe that you can really fly'.
"Good morning, Ms. Jones," he calmly greets me. I can almost feel the mischief behind his gleaming eyes.
Focus Kira! Focus!
"Morning, Mr. Darcy," I answer curtly.
Malik clears his throat. "When will you guys drop this boring formality?" he queries.
"Exactly my thoughts," Sam says, and nearly rolls her eyes. "It's a little disturbing. I mean, do you guys hate each other or something? Then why are you so formal to each other? Sometimes I wonder if you even talk."
It's all that I needed to make this more awesome that it already is.
"I'm not sure why, but it's comfortable this way," I say in a perfectly normal tone of voice.
Malik raises an amused eyebrow, and tags, "Is it?" He looks straight at me. I know this look of his, and he is doing it on purpose.
I'll get you for this, Malik!
"I like the sound of her name, that's why I use it," Liam says flatly, staring directly at me. "And I don't hate her, Samantha . . . on the contrary." He now faces my friend whose eyes freeze.
On the contrary? What's wrong with him?
"I see," says Sam with an indescribable smile.
"I'm starving," Malik announces like a baby.
"Yes, let's have breakfast, please. I can't wait to taste the water, and I don't even have a bathing suit," Sam says enthusiastically. "Why don't we go for a little shopping, Kira?" She gives me a hopeful smile.
I don't know whether it's a casual attempt, or her way of trying to ignore Liam's remark. Or maybe I'm just going overboard right now.
Guilt is a bitch, after all.
"Sure, I don't have any either," I reply, and the peace is restored.
At least for now.
Around eleven we go out for the agreed girls' fashion extravaganza. Sam turns the Navigation on, and she's the one driving. As expected, she loves driving nice cars.
A few hours later, just as Malik suggested, we manage to buy all the goodies we need for a perfect beach day. The price isn't of peanut, but it's worth it.
"Can we take a little walk?" I ask Sam.
"Oh, Kira." She sighs. "Tourism . . . right now? Please, it's hot."
"Alright," I grunt, feeling shortchanged. I'd really love to take a walk around this Lincoln Avenue or whatever the name is.
There are plenty of shops and high-end boutiques around the street, and its architect of Spanish colonial style makes it look like something from a postcard. I hope I'll have another chance.
It's indeed hot as we finally find our road home. I'm the one driving this time and we no longer need the navigation. Sam is busy taking another look at the merchandise she's just bought.
"Oh, I love this cutie here. Don't you think it's sexy?" She shows me a piece of yellow bikini that's extremely eye-catching.
"I'm sure you're going to rock in it," I answer with a smile.
"Miami chicks, better watch out for your men," she screams her usual lines, forcing a smile out of me, before breaking into a heavy sigh. "Even if I can't have Liam, this has been the best summer ever."
Can we not talk about Liam?