The Huntsberger house is transformed, the huge adjoining dining room and family room has been
emptied through the day and now styled with floral arrangements and seating which pours out into the
gardens from the wall of veranda doors. It’s looking like a huge function room in any classy hotel.
Leila has always insisted on using “home” for her parties. I think it’s the little bit of sentimentality and
that this place signifies safety and happy memories for her. It also means strictly no paparazzi for any
of the more well-known guests and we can monitor who gets to come in and let everyone relax to have
an enjoyable time.
Food is being laid out in the adjoining TV room, music blaring from the sound system outside and a
huge marquee, housing a bar and extended lounging area is set up. I can see a wooden floor for
dancing inside as well as in here. They have gone big and bold for this one, the place is bursting with
friends and family galore and even though it’s early in the evening, the house is crowded.
I work my way out through the room from the hall, Christian and Jenny are mingling already, welcomed
with open arms into the Huntsberger family last night over dinner and drinks, and obviously feeling right
at home already. Jenny is in tight conversation with Nathan in one corner, looking decidedly cozy
together and uninterested in milling guests, and Christian is in an adoring group of Carrero women,
nieces and cousins galore, all fanning for his attention, so I leave them both to it. They both seem to be
happy with their current situations and I am still trying to find myself a level of sanity to get through
tonight.
I make a beeline for the outside area, pushing among friendly faces that stop me to hug and smile my
way, comment on how much I have grown and changed of late. The same old repeated affections and I
smile and persevere. Pushing between two burly Carrero men, with trademark dark hair, wide
shoulders and those green eyes. I manage to squeeze out the other side, only just, with effort, looking
back apologetically and walk straight into the hard-muscular back of another male in a tux with an
“ooft”.
“Sorry I wasn’t looking where I was …” I trail off as Arrick turns my way with his hazel frown and
devastating smile, temporarily catching my breath in my throat. I immediately hit that zombie-like state
of “I do not know how to behave” and do that awkward little eye avoidance flustered thing. Jake leans
in past him and grins at me. My heart deciding now is a great time to flutter crazily, while my stomach
churns into knots and my palms get instantly sweaty.
“Still as graceful as ever, Sophs.” Jake winks and Arrick hands me a glass of champagne smoothly with
a half-smile, as though everything is completely normal and not at all weird in the slightest. I accept it
carefully, so as not to touch his fingers and try to appear relaxed, despite the conga of nerves running
through me. Arrick seems more chilled tonight, and a slight haziness to the green in his eyes suggests
these two have already been drinking the bar dry before the party got into full swing. I turn the glass,
raise it with a quick smile and sip on it gratefully, suddenly overcome with awkwardness and unable to
stand his eyes on me.
“Just looking for Leila.” I raise a brow and look around, straining on tiptoes to see over the hordes of
super tall people and avoid looking directly at him. His presence has me all edgy and light-headed and
even though I have the urge to run away, I stand my ground in a bid to prove I am over this. Arrick
raises his chin and looks around too.
“She’s over there, wrapped around Daniel and already looks pretty smashed.” He raises his glass,
pointing with it into the crowd of tuxedoes and sparkly dresses. One thing my family know how to do is
party in grand fashion. I try and follow his direction, turning my head but I am not tall enough to get any
real view of her, even in strappy heels and I’m aware that if I stretch too much, the sparkly silver, short
dress I am wearing will hitch a little too high. It’s not fitted, more of a floaty style so will be a risky move.
I sink back onto my shoes defeated and turn back to them with a sigh.
“What’s new for Leeloo?” Jake smirks, also looking up and over the people around them, also tall
enough to view her from his standing point and seeing what I cannot. I try to stretch some more, in a
second attempt to see and fail miserably, cursing my height for the first time in my life.
“Guess I will wait till she finds me then.” I smile their way and catch that tiny eyebrow flicker and a slight
frown from Arrick, almost fleeting by as his eyes meet mine and then disconnects. I turn back and catch
Jake hauling at his bow tie around his neck as though it’s strangling the life out of him and pause, glass
midway to my mouth, waiting to see if he dares to pull it off.
“Leave it alone.” I reach out and slap his elbow, throwing him a scolding look, knowing fine well what
he’s doing. You can almost set your watch by how long it takes Jake to discard any form of tie at an
event.
“I hate these things; I feel like Emma has tied a rope around my neck.” Jake squirms some more,
pulling it so much it comes loose, and then looks like a wicked schoolboy who just broke a vase. That
pleased twinkle in his eye at his naughtiness, pretty sure he has an excuse now. “Oh well, guess it
comes off now then.” He smirks, pulling it a little more, but I only shake my head at him, ready to
remind him how bat shit crazy Leila will go if her party photographs are less than perfect.
“If yours is off then mine is too.” Arrick doesn’t wait, yanks it at one corner so it not only unties but
slides cleanly off and hangs it like a dead animal from one hand and I honestly think he might dump it
on the passing tray of drinks. The two brothers grin at each another and I literally sigh out loud.
“Nope … Nope … Nope. You both know if she kicks off because men are starting to take these off, then
it will be you two who get it. Leila is crazy, she will hurt you. Wait until the photographer has done the
rounds before doing that, at least she will be too drunk to care. I grab Arrick’s bow tie from his hand
impulsively, knowing he can only tie them in front of a mirror and throw Jake a no-nonsense glare. I
point a finger at his face, and he folds in less than a millisecond.
“Fuck sake, woman!” Jake growls at me but starts redoing his bow tie once more, a little look of
defiance in that green gaze as he mumbles under his breath and can’t shake my glare. I turn my
attention back to Arry, who is watching me a little too closely for comfort and try not to react to how
much it catches me off guard.
“Scoot down, you’re too tall.” I implore him, trying to avoid the way he doesn’t hesitate into leaning into
me, so his face is practically touching mine and eyes locked to mine intensely. He takes my glass to
hold for me. I hesitate a moment, before sliding his tie in around his neck, putting my arms behind him
carefully and avoid touching him much, to bring it around and start tying it the way my mother showed
me, many a time. I focus on his tie, not the suffocating closeness and way he’s looking at me. Fiddling
with clumsy fingers because he is too damn close like this and his expression is so soft it’s killing me. I
can smell everything that is him, feel his gentle breathing on my face, and close enough to graze my
nose across his. My own breathing deteriorating, as are my nerves. Arrick is staring right at my face,
his hazels practically boring a hole into my eyes and making it near impossible to think straight at all. I
re-tie it twice as I make such a mess while under scrutiny and hope he doesn’t notice.
“You look beautiful tonight … you always do.” He says it so quietly it’s almost inaudible. His voice tingle
on my lips, a tiny sensation of vibration that makes me ache to kiss him and struggle to keep myself in
check. My legs are turning to Jell-O and my insides a washing machine on spin. Tying it neatly, I give it
one last tug and impulsively smooth my hands across his shirt and lapels without thinking, hands
burning with the feel of him.
I have tied these for him a million times and it’s almost like breathing to me, the way I instantly reverted
to Sophie of old. Arrick seems to take a moment, leans into my palms, before he moves back to
straighten up and passes me back my drink coolly. I can barely catch my breath. The sudden lurch in
my center makes me instantly emotional and unable to keep this act of indifference up.
“Thanks.” I blush wildly, feeling the heat rise from my feet and look away in a bid to break the
penetrative gaze he has going on with me. Small shallow inhales to cool the torrent of agony crashing
through me at speed. I won’t let him see me break. I won’t show him how close to tears he has me.
I won’t ever let you see that you can affect me again.
“Your boy … Christian. He seems like a good guy.” Jake interjects, his eyes trained on his brother’s
profile and adopting that infuriating Carrero unreadable mask. A brotherly trait, obviously. Jake kind of
looks a little smug and I wonder what his game is, but at least he distracts me and draws my attention
to him and gives my head some much-needed focus.
“He is … a really lovely guy, who does his best to take care of Jenny and I.” I smile with real affection in
my tone, a topic that instantly relaxes me, and glad of not only a change but a reason to move back
and look at Jake instead. To give myself room to breathe. Noticing his tie is crooked I gesture him over
and click my fingers for him to scoot down to my height too. Jake dutifully obeys, and I straighten his tie
before patting him on the cheek with a cheeky wink, and a mock air kiss. He just eye rolls at me.
Arrick downs his glass of champagne in one go, surprisingly for him, and immediately lifts another from
a nearby passing waitress holding a tray, as though he has decided he’s getting hammered tonight. He
instantly seems disengaged from the conversation, looking anywhere but at me, finally. I can almost
sense the change in the atmosphere and wonder if he dislikes Christian or if it’s the thought of me with
Christian.
Stop caring.
“As long as he makes you happy, Sophs?” Jake is now the one analyzing my face, looking a little too
closely, which only makes my heart race as though I have something to hide. I wonder now really what
he is doing. He has that knowing look in his eye, smug yet cool with a hint of “all-seeing” about him. I
wonder if he has told Arrick that he maybe thinks Chris is gay but judging by his mood I think maybe
not.
I have no clue what he is doing or why he would still carry on the ruse for no purpose when it affects his
brother, who is his best friend. I also start questioning Natasha’s lack of appearance, I was sure she
would have shown up by now and yet, he is here solo, except for Nathan, who seems to also be
AWOL, and more intent on trying to seduce Jenny.
“Umm, yeah, I guess. You know … you make your own happiness, right? I evade the question as best I
can, smiling widely and hoping to make it look like my usual cheeky faced self. Avoiding any eye on
eye contact for more than seconds while I find my acting hat and push it firmly back on.
Arrick turns his head a little my way and regards me with a sideways glance, an unreadable look in
response to my answer. I look away, scanning the room while downing my champagne, overly aware of
how stupid this whole thing has become. How juvenile it is, and right now I could kick Christian up the
ass for making me keep this up.
The lies we tell to keep face. Dumb, so very dumb.
My parents know Christian is gay, my whole family for that matter, after meeting his camp side last
night and hearing all about his boyfriend, and I doubt Jake’s “Gaydar” is that broken. He was chatting to
Christian long enough before Arrick boarded the jet to see enough to figure it out. Before macho mask
came into play and Christian implemented his “let’s make Arry jealous” plan.
“Right!” Jake lifts an eyebrow my way, sarcastic toned and that hint of smile hits home immediately
that, yes, he knows; he is fully aware.
Jake is being Jake. Smug and Mr. know it all. with an “I know what you’re doing” look that makes me
narrow my eyes at him. I wonder why he is allowing his brother to still think that Christian and I are a
couple. Giving him a questioning look, he just shrugs behind his brothers back, throws me a little head
shake with a smile as if to say “I have my reasons!”.
I don’t get it at all.
“I can see my sexy wife looking like someone’s making a move on her! I have to go beat some guy into
submission and stake my claim.” Jake growls, his whole manner swiftly changing, dodges his head to
the side aggressively. I follow his line of vision, making out a man in his thirties talking rather
animatedly to Emma and Sylvana Carrero in a corner, through a clearing in the crowd. Jake is fast
moving towards them before I have time to say a word, like a hawk with prey in its sights.
“He never changes, does he?” I giggle as I watch him swoop in on the women with deathly speed, tilt
his wife back dramatically in his arms and throw a passionate kiss on her mouth that most definitely
involve tongues, and a lot of ass groping. Sylvana starts slapping him on the back, telling him off for the
rather sexual display on his wife, as the man gets wholly uncomfortable and doesn’t seem to know
where to look. He makes a move towards Sylvana, says something, and then wanders off awkwardly.
Jake, as usual, does not give a rat’s ass about any displays like this, only wrapping Emma around him
more snugly and letting his hands roam her possessively, giving his mother a devilish smile of
satisfaction in response. I giggle louder.
“He was never the jealous type before Emma. I guess that’s what “the one” does to your mental state.”
Arrick replies flatly, looking over my head at his brother, and seemingly avoiding looking at me. His
party mood has deflated in the last few minutes and I can almost sense the tension sweeping from him.
I wonder if it’s because he knows he shouldn’t be near me, that his girlfriend probably won’t like it, or if
he is just having some manly time of the month that has nothing to do with me. I wonder if they are
fighting and that’s maybe why she isn’t here, why he’s in a strange mood.
“Do you get jealous?” It comes out before I connect my brain to mouth gear and curse myself inwardly.
Last thing I want to know is how he gets jealous over her, whom I assume he is still with, despite her
lack of presence. It’s been three months of silence and he hadn’t mentioned her once on the plane, not
once, and Jake didn’t ask either. The way he is acting now tells me there is still “a her” around though,
otherwise what issue would he have with being near me anymore?
Arrick looks at me for a moment, those soft eyes homed in rather intensely on me before he breaks the
contact and looks away. It gives me the same internal tingles and flips, body unsure how to react or feel
and I inhale slowly to push it all away.
“I never used to, not in all the years I fucked around dating loads of women. But I guess things change
when it’s someone who matters to you. Really matters.” He downs another full glass of champagne and
this time discards the glass before stopping the waitress and asking her for something else, something
a lot stronger. She turns and leaves with a nod as he watches her trail off, with a faraway look in his
eyes. I realize I am staring at him and turn my attention back to the people milling around.
“Natasha is pretty. I guess she must attract a lot of male attention.” I try for a soft smile, faking one best
I can, the urge inside to stay and talk to him, even if I hate the topic. Because for a moment, this is
better than not talking, and walking away to be strangers again, as hard as seeing him and being
around him is, is a lot worse afterwards and I don’t want to taint my night just yet. I catch that tense
muscle movement in his jaw, the dip of brows and he seems to sigh quietly. All tell-tale signs that he is
not a happy camper either and I curb the urge to ask him if he is okay.
Stop being weak, Sophie.
“Sooopppheeeeee.” Leila bursts in and swamps me with her little naked arms around my shoulders
and head against mine, kissing me messily on the face and ignoring my attempts to bat her away. She
is already drunk, and I am starting to feel like the only sober person at this do, which is bizarre
considering where I was six months ago. I have no clue why I am deliberately this sober still, it hasn’t
been intentional.
“Leila … can you please stop.” I untangle her lithe body from mine and stand her away from me with a
cringe-worthy expression, still not one for overly affectionate touchy feeling from people. Even family. I
prop my glass on a nearby table in case she makes me drop it with her over amorous advances.
“The videographer is doing the rounds! I want to see all my favorites on the floor in ten seconds,
dancing to my wedding song. You two get your butts in there and start dancing, get it going!” Leila
pouts at us both, grabs Arrick’s sleeve and my arm and yanks us towards the direction of the polished
floor in the tent. Ignoring my attempts to get her off me and pulls us onwards mercilessly with that
defiant, sassy little walk of hers. Arrick doesn’t seem to object in any way and is casually being led on
with no argument.
It’s lit with fairy lights and already the sounds of Ed Sheeran are playing over us in a melodic wave that
hits you inside the space, all very romantically set up with floral displays and flickering ambient lighting.
Daniel and she have a thing for using his songs at their parties. We have all heard how he wooed her
to a Sheeran song when she dumped his ass in a moment of insecurity. I have spent years listening to
the uber romantic tales of my family, my mom being a complete wuss at heart who likes to know every
single detail.
I make to protest but fall silent as she lets me go and Arry’s hand finds mine, without hesitation. It
makes me stop my silent refusal and go almost limp, at the unexpected touch. He pulls me with him
silently and makes the last few steps towards the empty floor, giving me no choice but to have my hand
encased in his. It’s like being scolded at the same time as being stroked. The pain, the longing for that
touch that sends my insides into a bizarre spin and renders me hopeless.
Looking around to see we are the first and Leila is going to get bitch-slapped from here to kingdom
come, I spy the cameraman setting up in one corner, fully focused on us and know I have no way out of
this without causing a scene. I don’t want to draw attention to the fact that we no longer know each
other.
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