Author: Not An Infant
Summary: Your shoulders were shoulders until he came along...
"Somebody needs to marry you!"
Wish it was you. The thought snuck past the loosely constructed walls you built between your desires and your behavior. You cannot even talk away the heat in your stomach at his words.
"Not in this color." Oh, yes in this color, because if HE likes it, then maybe it looks better on you than you thought.
Damn, it's been really hard to keep these thoughts out of your head since that damn kiss in the car. You know it's wrong to try your hand for the first time with HIM. Not that he isn't rich enough or cool enough...it would just be wrong. He could be looking for a rebound from Denise. You are NOT about to take chances like that.
It's worth it, says the forbidden truth from the back of your head.
"Only Gumbi could reach that zipper, would you like a hand?"
You probably stood in from of him just so he could, without knowing it. Maybe it's that forbidden side of you, the side that dreamt of this moment ages ago.
"Thank you..." and then followed the "PADS HER BRA" dance, shattering the mood and everything you had kinda-not-but-wanted-to wish you hoped for.
"You owe me a very big secret now!"
You can't believe you fell into that trap.
"I like somebody, and I don't think she knows it."
Seriously? You didn't notice the looks he's been giving you since last year, the sparks ignited after kissing in front of the dorm, the constant friendliness, the always-be-right-there kind of guy he is to you? Why are you so hardheaded, woman? why can't you let him try?
"I think you should tell this individual exactly how you feel." Right into the damn trap. Why did you ask for a secret? You know how people used to talk about you behind their backs, having a crush on you is the darkest, deepest secret any poor guy could have.
"What if she doesn't feel the same way?" His eyes turn smoky, his voice deeper, and he backs you up against the wall until you feel like he's a giant and you're a mouse.
She DOES feel the same way! you forbidden voice screams, but that's not what your damn pride lets you say because you only follow what keeps your perfect little rich girl reputation, don't you, you stupid, stupid girl!
"uh...then you'd be terribly humiliated, and I don't think you should tell this individual!"
You walk away briskly, wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead. THIS is exactly why you can't be a relationship; for the first time, the man has utter control of you, not the other way around! How can you ever have a relationship if you depend on a man for ego strokes and emotional support AND financial support at the same time?
Just when you mentally repeat your life goals over in your head, you feel a sudden increase of heat from behind you.
"You have the greatest shoulders I have ever seen," he says. And he doesn't even try to use a crooning voice like most of these rich dumb bachelors Mother tries to set you up with. It's so natural and honest and sincere that it's unbearably-there's no other word for it-sexy. You shudder at the realization that the sexual tension you've bottled up since eighth grade has finally caught up with you. Because of this guy, nonetheless!
You say his name in a strangled breath, secretly willing him to hold you tighter,and damn, you are so alone in this web of mass desire, aren't you?
And you know you would've finally given in, if he had just ONE MORE MINUTE to himself, without any goddamn interruptions from petty-ass KIMBERLY REEVES with her nasally voice saying, "I'll come back later."
The moment is lost; you break away, despite his protests, and you shoo him out of the room.
But it is no good. Even when you have covered those shoulders that he loves, they still feel exposed and under his control, and when you both have finished with the decorations, you put on your game face and declare, "We're all done."
"No, no we're not." That damn voice has deepened and huskied up (is that even a word?) and in your heart you know what he wants from you.
"Well, what's left?" playing dumb has never been your forte in life, especially with this man.
A hand sanes around you waist, and one moment later you're locking lips and teeth and tongue and Lord knows what else with Dwayne FRIGIn' Wayne, and he knows what he's doing, like he took notes before and improved from an A to a GOD YES THANK YOU LORD!
And then he has the nerve to say, with a smile and a heart-stopping croon, "See you at the wedding."
Ours? says the dazed forbidden voice.
Shockingly enough, a smile is dancing across your lips. You eyes are slightly dilated, your cheeks are flushed, and you shoulders suddenly burn from where he touched them earlier on. It's the feeling of being in love!...or like...or whatever it is, but it feels good!
Forget rich! says the voice, and then you realize it's actually you. "He's the one!"
"Whitley, what do you say we run down and catch the midnight flick at the dillard?"
The forbidden you-you, now-smirks and walks over to the centerpiece, pulling off that lousy pink piece of crap from your head.
"Dwayne, the only time I'll go out to a midnight flick with a man is if I'm planning on dating him." You rest your chin on your hands and smile at him. He stands up, looking a little uncertain.
"Let's go back to the dorm and I'll change into something more comfortable..." you suggest suggestively, and the closed-mouth smirk on his face resurfaces.
"Ladies first," he gestures to the door. You nod politely and walk past, and he even opens the door for you from behind.
As you're about to walk out, he grabs your elbow.
"Are you sure about this?" he asks you seriously, the flirtation gone from his eyes for the moment. "I don't want a relationship with someone who's not as sure as I am."
The forbidden you is the true you, because it's telling you that this is the right person to be with, and if he's as great as you think he is, or more, then you''ll never have to worry about other girls or money-making guys in the future; you'll just have him, the successful, goddamn sexy, gentle Mr. Wayne.
Unsure of how to put your certainty into words, you pull his collar down, lift your heels, and push your lips against his once more, allowing the newly-freed emotions to guide you through this moment of truth and promise. He responds even better than before, wrapping his arms around you tighter than your dress. Your head soars above the clouds and into the stars, past all reasoning and into the galaxy...
You break apart.
"I'm sure that we're gonna miss our movie if we don't get a move on," you declare, feeling a little full of it that your new boyfriend is the speechless one now. You tug at his shirt again, pulling him with you out the door. His hands find their place on your shoulders, reheating your entire body, and massage the muscles into a warm mush.
"You have the most beautiful shoulders I've ever seen," he says again, emphasizing "beautiful."
"Well, for now, they're yours to touch."