Date = 28 March
Place = San Francisco (Enrique’s home)
POV – Aria
BWWAAA BWA BWA BWA BWWAAA!
I jolt up and from shock widely open both eyes, instantly regretting it when my head feels like it just exploded. I look around to find the sickly hoarse goose that made that awful sound, but instead of a honking bird, I only find a laughing Enrique at the end of the bed, holding some kind of plastic trumpet thingy. He holds it against his mouth and blows.
BWA BWA BWWAA!
I close my burning ears with my hands, giving the damn twit a look that would kill ten men. The fact that he’s only wearing CK boxers not going unnoticed. I mean, seriously, that body is anything but ugly. No wonder he’s such a sought-after model.
“Ug!” I croak, touching my pounding head with my fingertips extremely lightly. I close my eyes, not only repelled by the luminosity from the sunshine glaring through the open curtains but also to keep my sexual organs from becoming Niagra Falls. Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if I stare at the almost naked specimen much longer.
“What happened? Was I smashed on the head? I swear that bitch … eh … whatsername … Anna … ”
“Amanda,” he corrects me patiently.
” … yep, that one, hit me on the head with a bat or something. But I can’t remember exactly.”
“I think you just had too many blowjobs. Or maybe too much sex on the beach. No, wait … it was the unprotected sex that threw you over the edge.”
I slowly open one eye, just a tad, pulling my face as the bright light affects my cornea too intensely. I quickly close my eye again and moan softly, wondering if he knows something I don’t. Did I do something embarrassing? Don’t tell me I sucked his … no no no! Was I so drunk I forgot about having sex?
BWA BWA BWWAA!
“Will you stop blowing that freaking trumpet!” I yell, forcing my eyes open, having serious hearing loss from the 1000-decibel sound or at least close to that.
“It’s a vuvuzela,” he says laughing, and throws the thing on the bed. I look at the foreign object, wondering what ass-hat invented something like that. He must have noticed my large frown cause he continues with an explanation.
“I bought it in South Africa when I went there for a photo shoot. They love to blow it at soccer matches.”
“Ah newsflash, I’m not South African!” I pick up the vuvu-whatever and hit him over the head with it, getting him back for waking me up like a bat from hell. I fall back onto my pillow and pull the blanket over my head, hoping he would disintegrate into thin air. But luck has never been on my side, and it is not going to start now.
“Sooo, Aria, care to tell me why the whole world thinks I’m gonna be a father?”
My body stiffens for a mere minute and then I slowly peep from beneath the safety of the blanket.
“Yeah, about that … ” I say hesitantly, and then I try to explain the situation about how they mistook the parcels to be mine instead of his sister’s.
“But, just to be clear … I never confirmed any pregnancy … I just kept quiet so as not to put Mel in a bad situation!” I look him straight in the eye now. The fact that I saved his sister must count for something … right? And suddenly I remember that he’s not so innocent in this whole debacle.
“You’re the one that said how excited we were about the baby, remember?”
“I thought they found out about Mel. But nonetheless … you did a great job of convincing everybody with this photo, don’t you think?” He scrolls on his phone and hands it over to me. I stare at myself, looking down at my hand that’s protectively on my tummy. I must admit, he’s right – I look very pregnant.
“They caught me off-guard, I was checking for fat rolls, not a baby.” Honesty is always the best policy, is it not? Ug.
“Fat rolls?” he sounds puzzled, “Why would you … I mean, you have the perfect body so why … ” he clears his throat, “… eh … never mind. Okay, just let that slide, but the case where you assaulted a man that calls for some serious punishment.” He gets this slick wicked smile on his face that sends shivers down my spine, for more than one reason. I mean, he’s still not wearing any shirt and I’m having a duel in my head one side seriously wants him to put one on; the other seriously doesn’t.
“That man had it coming … but let’s not forget your little encounter with Amanda. So tit for tat we just cancel the punishments out,” I say hoping he would agree. He scoffs, pulling a face that leaves me unsure of his answer, but I’m gonna take it as a yes.
“Now to get to the topic of Brian … ” Those multicolored eyes scrutinize my whole demeanor, and I can feel my nipples contract under the thin layer of the T-shirt. I look down, only now wrapping my mind around the fact that I’m wearing one of his shirts and boxers, definitely not the clothes I had on last night.
I frantically look around the room just to find my lacy underwear laying traumatically on the floor next to the pillows that seem to remove themselves magically from between us every night. Flipping fish-sticks! I stare at the black bra as if it holds all the answers to my foggy mind. What happened last night? Was he serious about the blowjob part? Would I be able to forget having any sexual encounter with a man like Enrique? Now that would just be sad.
Feeling the rush of embarrassment pushing up, I pull the blanket higher, trying to hide the evidence of my reddened face, but failing miserably he clearly noticed.
“Eh, Brian bumped into me on the street, then he showed up and helped us to change our tire, and later he also appeared in the same restaurant as us.”
Enrique doesn’t look too happy about that explanation if the frown on his face is any indication.
“Aria, you have to be careful around him. I don’t trust him at all.”
Don’t worry, me too, I think to myself. There’s just something about Brian that turns my guts into a knot. And I’m now sure he planned everything for some unknown reason.
“Okay, so since we’ve canceled one of your punishments out, it still leaves one,” he says.
“One?”
“Yep, for getting wasted last night. So I’ll think about it a wee bit and get back to you on that.”
Enrique gets up and I peek at the black undergarment again. Fuckit, I need to know.
“Eh, about last night … can you tell me what happened? I mean … did we … did something … how did I end up in bed, like this?” I pull the T-shirt to reveal exactly what I’m blabbering about.
He sits down on the bed again, this time very close to me, his mouth pulled into the sexiest lopsided grin I’ve ever seen on a person. His eyes sparkle with lights of blue and gold and I can for the death of me not choose which one is my favorite. It’s as if both are like a mixture of pleasure and sin combined.
“Well, first you puked on me while I was carrying your drunken ass in.” I can feel his breath fanning over my cheek, he’s that close.
“Then we took a warm steamy shower together, to get rid of the vomit.” Our eyes are stuck in a battle of wills. He moves his head even closer, our lips almost touching and I’m magically frozen by his voodoo gaze.
“And then I put you in bed and we slept. I don’t fuck drunk girls, no matter how much they throw themselves at me or how cute they are. Anything else you want to know, fairy girl?” I move my eyes and stare at those kissable lips, swallowing down serious spit.
“Eh, no. I think that’s enough information, thanks,” I murmur, trying to imagine myself under the shower with him. His eyes are also now on my mouth and I bite my lower lip self-consciously. The next moment he swears softly and then his lips crash on mine. For a moment I’m pixilated, but then, instead of pushing him away like I’m supposed to, I move my hands around his neck and stick my tongue in his mouth. His arms hug around my body, pulling me closer, and somewhere in my timid mind a spark is commanding me to get out of his grip before it’s too late, but my body doesn’t cooperate at all.
“Eh, did we come at a bad time?” The voice at the door ambushed me and I jolt my head in a quick motion, accidentally hitting Enrique on his cheekbone.