Accepted Fate (27 page)

There are a few popular boutiques in town. They all have really cute clothing. I pick the closest one to me and pull in. As I walk inside, there are a few people but it's mostly quiet. I can already tell I'm going to do some damage today just by the things in the window. Presley would have a fit if she found out I came in here without her. We rarely shop separately. If I wasn't in such a cramp for time, I would have told her to meet me here.

I walk through the store grabbing everything that catches my eye in my size. One thing I've learned when trying to find
the outfit
is to grab a few contenders and choose later. An outfit always looks different the second time you put it on; sometimes better and sometimes worse. Once I've managed to fill my arms, I leave them at the counter and continue on my shopping escapade to the shoes and jewelry. Of course, I can't omit my most precious accessory, handbags.

I finally make it out of the store with just enough time to get home and get myself ready before Breyson is supposed to be at my door. My back seat is loaded down with bags from my little shopping spree. Presley and I always end up buying way more than we intend. It's an addiction I never want to break. As long as I can cheer and shop, I don't need anything else.

I pull into my garage with absolutely no time to spare. If I'm going to get everything ready, I really need to get a move on it. I unload all the bags from my car, but it takes a few trips. I remove all the candles from the bag and begin lighting them sporadically throughout the first floor of the house, saving my favorite for my bedroom and bathroom. Next comes plugging in the wall flowers and spritzing the linens and furniture with the matching scents.

As I finish everything downstairs, I grab the rest of my bags and run up the stairs toward my room. Upon entry, I toss my bags onto the bed and finish setting out and lighting the candles around my room. I turn on the string lights that hang from the canopy over my bed. Sheer charcoal gray curtains hang from the canopy rail to the floor on each of the four corners of my king sized bed. By the time he gets here, it should be dark outside. The wall directly across from my bed has my dresser as well as a wall mounted television we can watch movies on paper-view.

  I look around the room. Everything should be set. I can already smell the fragrance filling the room. It's a really light and soothing smell from the sleep line at Bath and Body Works. I walk into the bathroom and start the shower. One thing I love about this house is that I have my own connecting bathroom as does Konnor.

Walking back into my bedroom freshly showered, I grab my new underwear and put them on. I'm now in a negative for time because I had to shave everything, including places I don't normally shave. Tuesday night when Presley and I left Ryland's house, she insisted that we have a little talk. If I've never thought before that having a friend know everything about you was awkward, I do now.

In this little girl talk 101, she informed me that girls just don't have hair down there anymore. I have always groomed but never totally rid the area, in mild terms. According to her, if I am going to go through with this, then I need to be up to speed with everyone else. I have never done it because, for obvious reasons, have never had a reason to I guess.

I exhale, trying to rid the nerves that have decided to go haywire in my stomach. I look out over the bed at everything I have bought today. I finally decide on a pair of bright palazzo pants in a paisley pattern. The top I bought with it is an aqua boat neck solid cotton shirt with three quarter length sleeves. I move it to the side and grab up the remaining clothes in handfuls and toss them into my closet. I normally would put them up in an appropriate place but it will have to wait.

Shutting the closet door, I walk back over to the bed. I have to put on the garter belt and stockings before I can put on my clothes. Staring down at the device in front of me, I'm a little intimidated. The store associate gave me instructions on how to put them on, but because you never try on panties or stockings, I don't have hands on experience. Placing the garter belt around my waist, I fasten the clasp.

Removing the stockings from the pack, I sit on the bed holding them out in front of me. They are a black sheer in color and look really complicated. Mom has tried to get me to wear stockings to church but I'm usually bare or covered with leggings. I pull one foot onto the bed and pull the stocking over my foot. I manage to maneuver it up my leg close to the clasp from the garter belt. Standing up, I begin trying to figure out this whole mechanism. After a few tries I get the front done but now I have to get the back hooked. People sure do put forth a lot of effort just to have it taken off. It takes longer to get the back one connected, but I manage. The second leg doesn't take quite as long as the first. I look myself over in the full length mirror that hangs on my closet door. Turning around and seeing the finished product has me kind of excited.

I pull on my clothes and a pair of flats to cover up my stockings for later. After drying my hair, I decided to straighten it instead of wearing it in my usual curls. As I'm putting on my gloss which is the last of my makeup, the doorbell rings. Shoot! I was hoping to have a head start on dinner but I guess I can cook while we talk. I pop a piece of gum in my mouth and start for the door.

When I get to the front door, I open it to Breyson looking sexier than ever. He is wearing a pair of faded denim jeans, hanging low on his hips and a pair of brown leather shoes as well as a fitted dark pink Lacoste polo that looks amazing against his tanned arms. His hair is slightly gelled in the front and he's holding a bouquet of pink Gerber daisies. I automatically smile at the gesture because he remembered they are my favorite from our conversation last night. He holds them out for me to grab. "You remembered," I say.

"Of course I remembered," he replies. "I remember everything you say. I thought it might brighten your day." I go to grab the flowers and he pulls me in for a hug, sending my face directly into his broad chest. He smells so good. I'm not sure what scent he wears but if I ever find a bottle I'm buying it, though I'll never admit that to anyone. "What's this for?" I turn my head to the side, resting my cheek against the center of his chest.

"Me," he says. One little word and I'm already shaking. This boy is dangerous to me; like kryptonite. I love the feel of being wrapped in his strong arms. He walks me backwards, inside the house but never releases me. Once inside the door, he pushes it shut with the bottom of his foot. "I've missed you beautiful girl. You're hell on my ego." His voice makes me close my eyes. The sound is hypnotic.

He grabs my chin and turns it up to face him. I know what's coming next. Will I ever be ready for the havoc it reaps on my body? Probably not. Do I still want it? Heck yes! My heart starts palpitating in my chest more rapidly, the closer he gets to my lips. As his lips touch mine, my blood starts racing throughout my body. I can hear my pulse in my ears and I feel like I'm frozen in time. His tongue lightly brushes mine, playing and teasing. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and his teeth graze the skin. My stomach starts clenching and a need I've never had, until him, begins forming down below, making me want to be touched in response.

I wrap my arms around his waist and continue to kiss him. I could kiss him for hours. I get lost in an array of emotions that I can't stop. I hate what he's doing to me but I love it all the same. He runs his fingers through my hair, cupping the back of my head with one hand and trails the other down to my waist. At this rate we won't make it to dinner or to my room for that matter. Reluctantly, I break the kiss. "It's good to see you too." I smile. Grabbing his hand, I tow him towards the kitchen. "Come on, I have plans for you."

As we make it into the kitchen, I stop next to the refrigerator opening the door. "Can you cook?" He raises a brow as if he's really not sure.

I pretend to be offended. I may be well taken care of and my parents may have money but they are still practical people. Mom has a house keeper that comes once or twice a week and that is as dependent on someone else as she gets. My parents are very family oriented people and cooking and eating together is a big deal in our house. We always eat at the table with the exception of Super Bowl Sunday. Football is a big sport in this family and my parents always have a big party for Super Bowl.

"Are you scared I might poison you?" Reaching into the refrigerator I pull out the wrapped Salmon and set it on the island behind me. From the corner of my eye, I can see him watching me but purposely I don't acknowledge him. I carry on as If he isn't standing beside me. Opening the freezer I remove the green beans and place them beside the Salmon.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I've just never known anyone my age that could cook. I guess you're a little more down to earth than I realized. I kind of took you for a high maintenance kind of girl." It's really cute that he thinks I'm upset. I think I may let him sweat a little more. It may be slightly mean but it's amusing. A little fun never hurt anyone.

I make my way around the island to get out the dishes I need. "Can you start a grill?" I look into the cabinet as I speak because if I look at him I am going to break. I grab a glass baking dish and a pot. As I stand up, I fill the pot with water and set it down on the cook top. I grab the Salmon and begin opening the wrapper.

"Of course I can start a grill. I have been man handling the grill since I was tall enough to reach it."

"Good. If you walk outside the patio door, you'll see the grill on the left. I should be done seasoning this by the time you get back." Turning around, I begin searching through the spice rack for the seasonings I'm looking for.

As I'm standing against the countertop, a hand takes residence on top of the counter to each side of me. His body becomes flush with my backside. My heart rate begins to quicken and my breathing becomes uneven. He brushes my hair over my right shoulder. I can feel his warm breath tickle the back of my neck. On reflex my eyes close. He makes me weak and I need to be strong. He kisses the top of my bare left shoulder and trails kisses up the side of my neck. He stops just below my ear. "Are you mad at me?" His voice is low and seductive. How am I supposed to compete with this? He is playing in the major leagues and I'm still on a high school team. It's unfair how good he is at this. He lightly licks the outline of my ear with the tip of his tongue. Oh my heavens that feels...euphoric.

I turn around trying to get some distance before I come unglued. Wrong move. He has a huge grin on his face, which is maybe an inch from mine. "Why would I be mad?" My voice breaks as it comes out, barely above a whisper.
Great Kinzleigh, you're doing a great job of being convincing.  

He runs the tip of his index finger along my jaw line. "You're going to be the death of me Kinzleigh Baker." He continues his exploration down my neck and body stopping at the small of my back. Resting his forehead against mine, he looks me in the eyes. It doesn't take a genius to know what he is doing. He is asking my permission to continue downward with his hands. In response, I place my hands over his, gliding them downward until they are perfectly covering my bottom.

His breathing becomes ragged and he closes his eyes as he squeezes his hands. He closes in for a kiss. It's much different this time. He is needy with his movements, twirling his tongue with mine. It's bittersweet. He picks me up, rubbing me against his front on the way, before setting me on top of the counter.

I wrap my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair. This is my last night to see Breyson Abercrombie and I'm going to cherish it. I return his kiss at full force, giving him everything I have. I kiss him for everything that tonight is. It's an end to something beautiful; something I will remember every day for the rest of my life. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pull him closer. He is a good bit taller than me. With me sitting on the counter, he is at eye level with me. He pulls me to the edge of the countertop pressing me against him, allowing me to feel the effect of our little tryst in the kitchen. "I can't control myself around you. We are never going to make it through dinner. Why don't we just do something quick and go watch a movie?"

I will not let him get out of it that easily. I have been planning this all day. "No way. Get your butt outside and man the grill," I tease authoritatively, pushing on his chest for emphasis and release him from my hold.

He backs away holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll be right back." He adjusts himself and turns as he walks toward the patio, stepping outside. I hurry back to the food, now sitting idle on the counter, to begin seasoning and preparing it for the grill.

The rest of dinner passes by uneventful. Mostly just small talk and glances between the two of us. Standing from the table, I walk to the sink, placing my plate inside. Breyson follows close behind me doing the same.

I turn to face him as he grabs me by the waist. From behind, he grabs me by the inside of my legs, lifting me. I wrap my legs around him, interlocking my feet behind his waist and grab a hold of him by the shoulders. "What are you doing?"

"I can't take anymore. I want to cuddle with you until I have to leave." He begins walking to the living room, carrying me. "Where to?" He stops in the living area where he met my parents a few short days ago. If only there was a button to make time stand still in those frames of life worth repeating. If someone asked me what moment in time I would I want to hold onto; I'd say this week.

"My room. We have to go up the stairs, though, so you can put me down." He looks at me, eye to eye, as if he would rather die than put me down.

He moves towards the stairs, but never looks away. I'm not sure how he can even see where he is going but he begins to climb the stairs one step at a time. Something about that look leaves me wanting more. If I had a heart to give away, it would be for him; however, I locked it up and threw away the key long ago.

When he stops at the top of the stair case, I know he is waiting for further instructions. "It's the room at the end of the hall."