After interacting with his boss and co-workers, Drew decides to take a break from all the talking. He needs to stop himself from all the business talk escaping his lips. He’s getting tired of it, honestly. But what can he do? After all, this is his business party. He finalized a deal for his boss’ company, and apparently his boss was absolutely happy so he decided to throw a party.

           At that moment, he sees Ethan running over to him with Scarlett trailing behind him. He panics a little inside, wondering if they’ve prepared a prank for someone in this party, because he can’t have any of them hurt. It’ll ruin his reputation—if he has any of that anymore ever since the car accident—completely. He looks around for Uriah, but doesn’t find him. Drew’s definitely panicking on the inside now.

            “Where’s Uriah?” he hastily asks Ethan, slightly bending down so they can hear him properly. “Please don’t tell me he’s going to drop a bomb in here, because I can’t handle anymore—”

            “A bomb?” Scarlett gasps.

           Ethan rolls his eyes. “Uriah’s fine, don’t worry. I’m here to talk to you about him, though.”

           Drew furrows his eyebrows, knowing this isn’t good news at all. Over the past weeks since Ethan and Drew talked their feelings out, they’ve become closer and closer. Ethan doesn’t play many pranks on him and Grace anymore. Uriah wasn’t exactly happy to hear about Ethan and Scarlett being on Drew’s side after forgiving him, and neither knowing that he’s completely alone without his siblings.

           However, Drew does feel a bit bad for Uriah. He hates that he feels bad for the guy, and at the same time, he knows that he’s feeling a good thing. About feeling bad for Uriah. Because if he isn’t feeling bad for him, then who would forgive him?

            “Do you know Cinderella?” Ethan asks, chuckling.

            “Yeah, that Disney princess, right?”

            “No,” Scarlett stresses on the word with a frown. “It’s another girl!”

            “Who?” Drew questions, getting confused by the second.

           Ethan scoots closer to Drew, and then brings his lips next to his ear, whispering, “She’s Uriah’s girlfriend.”

           Drew grimaces as he leans back to see whether Ethan’s laughing as if it’s a joke. However, Ethan has a blank expression on his features, and then he’s nodding as if to confirm that it’s true. He suddenly bursts out laughing. Uriah? Girlfriend? Cinderella? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

            “No, she’s real.” Scarlett pouts. “And she’s mean.”

           Drew pauses, his gray eyes growing wide. “Wait, you’re serious?”

            “Yes!” Scarlett cries out in irritation. “I hate her.”

            “So . . .” he trails off. “Her name’s really Cinderella? Who would name their kids after Cinderella?” he asks in disbelief. “That’s—it’s just—crazy.”

            “Does it matter?” Ethan says, giving him an annoyed look.

           Drew finally keeps his laughter under control, and then inquires, “Why are you telling me this?”

            “I don’t know?” Ethan cries out in frustration. “Maybe it’s because he’s putting his life in danger by having a girlfriend? Don’t you know how girls are very cunning and dangerous?”

            “Hey!” Scarlett exclaims, frowning at Ethan. “Girls are cool.”

           Drew resists the urge to roll his eyes, because he knows that Scarlett’s still a young girl and that she hasn’t seen the whole world yet. He turns to Ethan, and asks, “So where’s this Cinderella girl?”

           Ethan looks around the room, searching for a familiar blond sibling and his girlfriend. Then, his mouth twitches upward as he spots them. He points toward that direction, and says, “There.”

           Drew follows the direction where Ethan’s pointing. Once his eyes set on an identical looking Uriah, he glances at the girl next to him who seems to be having a light and happy conversation with him. His eyes widens as he recognizes the redheaded girl who’s tied her hair into a neat and tight bun. He remembers the snarky attitude of hers when he first met her. He remembers the way how her nose is slightly big, how her eyes are made for intimidation yet innocence, and how her mouth is always curved up into a small smirk whenever she feels his presence.

           It’s his boss’ daughter.

           ♦          ♦          ♦

           Grace isn’t listening to a thing that’s coming out Nathan’s lips, because her concentration’s set on Drew who’s having a conversation with Ethan and Scarlett.

            “Uh, Grace?”

           She snaps out of her reverie, and looks back at Nathan whose eyebrows are raised. “Uh, sorry, yeah?”

            “What were you looking at?” he questions, a teasing smile stuck on his face as if he already knows the answer.

           She shakes her head, still sneaking glances at Drew who now has a striking grin plastered across his lips, laughing at something Ethan said. “Nothing. I just, uh, spaced out.”

            “So . . .” Nathan trails off, not believing her at all. “What do you think about Drew?”

           Suddenly, she’s reminded of a conversation she had with Arabelle not too long ago.

            “So, tell me,” Arabelle says, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “Didn’t you guys at least kiss or—?”

            “Bells, no.”

            “Oh come on, I can practically smell the sexual tension between you two. I swear, the way you two are looking at each other right now is called eye rape.”

            “Bells, shut up.”

            “Why, am I putting some images in your head right now? Are you feeling hot, Grace? Just tell me, and I can set you two up.”

            “Bells!”

            “You didn’t answer the question. That means it’s a yes.”

            “No, there’s no sexual tension between us. No, you’re not putting any images in my head right now. No, I’m not feeling hot. Happy?”

            “You’re clearly lying.”

           Immediately, her attention switches back to Nathan, her face instantly burning up, and turning toward his direction. “Uh, no, I—I don’t think about Drew. But, uh, if you’re asking what I think of him—oh right, you are asking that. Um, I think that . . . I think that he’s really uptight, scary, and annoying. Yeah, that. That’s Drew for you.”

           Nathan chortles, shaking his head at her in disbelief. “First time I’m hearing someone telling me he’s scary. What has he done to you that got you afraid, dear Grace?”

            “He—he is scary,” she admits, “sometimes.”

            “Oh really now?” says Nathan, quirking an eyebrow.

           She frowns a little, and murmurs, “Aren’t you scared? I mean, you spend a lot of time with him, I assume. Don’t you think he’s a little bit scary when he’s all uptight and annoying? God, it’s like his job is his only life. I see why he needs a babysitter in the first place.”

           Nathan’s smile falters a bit, and then he says, “He’s had a hard time, Grace . . .”

           As soon as she sees the sad and slight uncomfortable expression on his face, her eyes grow a little wide as she rambles, “Shit, did I say something wrong? Did I go too far? If I did, then I’m so sorry. I—”

            “You don’t know?” he interrupts, his eyebrows creasing. “Didn’t he tell you?”

           She raises an eyebrow in confusion and suspicion. She can’t help, but feel really curious as to what Nathan’s referring to. Know about what? What didn’t Drew tell me? “Tell me what?”

           As if he just realizes, his face falls into a blank expression, and looks away. “Uh, nothing. That’s not something I should be telling you.”

            “No, tell me,” she urges, the curiosity and concern in her growing by the second. “I want to know. Drew wouldn’t tell me anyway.”

           Nathan lets out a huff of breath, and smiles. “I bet he will. Just give him time.”

            “I’ve set my foot in his house since almost three months ago. I think that’s enough time for him to tell me what went wrong.”

           He shrugs. “Then maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

           She pouts. “That’s just really unfair. You can know and I can’t?”

           Nathan chuckles, and says, “Well, I’m his boyfriend after all.”

           Her body goes rigid as her playful pout expression falls, her eyes going blank. She can’t believe she almost forgot this guy she’s talking to right now is Drew’s boyfriend. How can I forget? She thinks bitterly in her mind. “Right . . . how long have you guys been together?”

            “Uh, around a few months?”

           She raises an eyebrow. “Who asked who?”

            “He asked me,” he blurts out, and then sends a forced smile on her way. “Excuse me, but Arabelle’s calling me.”

           And then, he’s off, leaving an upset looking Grace alone.

           ♦          ♦          ♦

            “So . . . how was the party?”

           Grace can’t help, but lash out a little bit of her anger on Drew as she answers, “Boring. Absolutely boring.”

           Taken aback, Drew asks with a little amusement laced in his voice, “I thought you were having a great time talking with people. Like, Nathan.”

           She scoffs softly, rolling her eyes in the dark. Drew and Grace have just reached home not too long ago, and the kids are already tucked in bed by Arabelle and Nathan who had sent them home earlier by an hour ago. Drew figured to send the kids home earlier, because he knows it wasn’t even their type of party anyway. It’s now already quarter past midnight, and Grace is feeling exhausted.

           Drew opens the front door of the house, and then signals Grace to walk in first. So she does. “You really like Nathan, do you?” she questions irritably. “You never seem to stop talking about him.”

            “Yeah, well, of course. I’ve known him since childhood. He can be annoying sometimes, because he gets a little violent, but the more you spend time with him, he’s actually a softie on the inside. It’s adorable how he’s always kept his feelings to himself though. He’s insecure of himself and no matter how many times I tell him—”

           Not wanting to hear any more that’s slowly tearing her heart apart, she interjects with a harsh tone and not casting glance at his direction, “I’m going to bed.”

            “Grace—”

            “Goodnight.” Then, she starts her way up the stairs and toward her bedroom with a scowl imprinted onto her features ever since. Does he really love him that way? She asks herself in her head again and again, skeptical about their relationship together.

           She shuts her door behind her once she enters the room, and then walks toward the long length mirror that’s placed on the side of her room. She doesn’t even bother to turn on the lights. Next, she grumbles incoherent words about how she should’ve never had feelings for the stupid cute British guy in the first place. She’s just here for the babysitting job anyway, right?

           Despite knowing that there are boundaries and limits for liking Drew a hell lot, she still broke the rules—not listening to herself.

            “Idiot, idiot, idiot,” she murmurs as she looks at herself in the mirror. Then, she glances at the red bow she had put back in her hair secretly in the middle of the party. She did it to annoy, and maybe somehow piss Drew off. He took her bow away from her before the party, but why should she follow him obediently? As an act of rebellion, she furtively took the bow from him while he was busy in the party, and clipped it into her hair.

           Did he notice? She wonders to herself helplessly.

           She heaves out a sigh of frustration and reaches for the back zipper of her dress. She groans as she realizes that she most definitely can’t reach the zipper from all the way up there. She needs Arabelle for this, just like how she had her zip the dress up before the party. Grace curses at how small and tiny she is, making her arms short, not able to reach the damn zipper.

           She can’t ask anyone else to undo the zipper. The kids are sound asleep . . . and Drew? No, she doesn’t want to ask him. They’re practically arguing—in Grace’s imagination. She doesn’t feel the need to see his face right now especially right after when he kept talking about how adorable and sweet his boyfriend is.

           Damn it.

            “Need help?”

           Grace instantly spins around in horror, and catches a glimpse of Drew’s tall and slender body in the dark standing by the door, who’s staring at her with a small teasing smile. She regains her scowl at the unwanted sight of him, and says, “No thanks.”

           Though she can’t really see him in the dark, she can see his figure becoming bigger and closer as he slowly walks across the carpet toward her. “Why are you mad?” he asks quietly.

            “I’m not mad,” she lies smoothly, though she knows he won’t buy it.

           Next, she feels his presence right in front of her despite the darkness surrounding them. Though there is a small ray of light coming from out the window, illuminating Drew’s face. She can clearly see his pale milky skin, his gentle gray eyes, and soft brown hair that she’s wanted to run her fingers through.

           Grace internally shakes her head, thinking what the hell has gotten into her. Maybe Arabelle’s words are getting into her, the talk about how she could sense the sexual tension between her and him. That’s not true, is it? Grace once again looks into Drew’s eyes as he replies in a deep and smooth tone now that they’re closer to each other, “I know you, Grace. Tell me.”

           Oh come on, I can practically smell the sexual tension between you two.

           As soon as she’s starting to sense the blush creeping up on her neck and cheeks, she turns around, her back facing Drew and her front facing the mirror. “I just—can you, um, help me? I’m, uh, really annoyed with that. Just . . . yeah, help me.”

           Drew lets out a huff of chuckle, and she shivers slightly as she feels his warm breath brushing the back of her neck. “Okay,” he answers, and then takes a step toward her.

           This time, she can almost feel his body touching her back. Next, she feels his fingers graze the back of her neck as he swipes her hair to one side and touches the zipper of the dress. This time, Grace inhales and exhales slowly as she feels his hot breath fanning the side of her bare neck.

           She looks into the long length mirror in front of her and watches Drew from the reflection.

           I swear, the way you two are looking at each other right now is called eye rape.

           She continues to stare at his reflection as if he’s a piece of art. A beautiful art, but with secrets hidden underneath the crinkles of his eyes waiting to be cracked. Then, she hears the zipper bring pulled down. She exhales, seeing the top of her dress loosening up, allowing her to breathe properly. However, she fails, because she still can’t seem to take proper breathes especially when Drew’s still behind her in a very dangerous distance.

           As the zipper’s finally lowered to the end, she swallows and looks at his reflection that’s just standing there, staring at her exposed back. She draws in a breath as she feels a soft and warm kiss being planted on the back of her neck. Her stomach churns, creating a really good feeling. She closes her eyes for a second, and then flutters them open again. 

           Why, am I putting some images in your head right now?

           She reluctantly turns around to face Drew, taking her time so she can think what on earth is actually happening right now. She’s so sure that Arabelle’s words are getting into her head. She planted those into her head, and now she can’t help but imagine what’s going to happen next.

           She glances up at Drew slyly. His reaction doesn’t seem to be what she’s expected. She expected him to at least look timid or confused as to what he has done, but no. In fact, his eyes are intensely trained on Grace’s face, analyzing her features it seems. He’s standing on his ground, not moving one bit.

           Are you feeling hot, Grace?

            “You have a boyfriend,” Grace whispers, and then immediately regrets it. Isn’t this what she wanted? Why is she trying to stop him? But then again, she wants her questions answered. Her mind can’t seem to come up with a conclusion and her mouth can’t stop opening from saying random words that pops up to her mind. “You’re . . . gay.”

           This time, she doesn’t get a verbal answer, because in one swift motion, Drew places both of his hands on the sides of Grace’s neck and closes the distance by placing his lips on hers. Grace’s mind goes blank, having trouble with figuring what is happening but decides to deal with it later and just kiss him back, loving how warm and soft his lips are that she can almost melt into the kiss. She stands on her tiptoes as her arms circles around his neck and his fingers brush her cheeks comfortingly. He’s touching her as if she’s fragile—that she would break if he touches the wrong place.

           Grace smiles into the kiss, pulling him closer to her. The thought of Drew cheating on Nathan is lingering at the back of her head but she pushes it away. She wants to live in the moment; she can’t lose this chance, because she’s completely sure that he’s never going to kiss her with this much gentleness and need anymore. Pulling away for a second to take a deep breath, their lips connect again after tilting their heads to the sides. Grace is definitely feeling undeniably hot, and she doesn’t doubt that Drew isn’t feeling the same. Then, she starts to roam her fingers around his hair, tugging some of it softly. Earning a soft moan from him, she starts to unbutton the first few buttons of his dress shirt unknowingly.

           Slowly, one of Drew’s hands wanders upward toward Grace’s hair. He starts to play with her hair as he deepens the kiss. Just as his fingers touch the familiar material of the red bow, he pulls it out, releasing some of the hair that was tied into it.

           Together, they pull away due to loss of oxygen and also because they’re feeling too warm in each other’s presence. Their hot breaths mingle together when they try to catch their own as if they are fishes who needed to gasp for air. However, Grace’s arms are on the buttons of Drew’s dress shirt while one of Drew’s hands is tangled in her hair, and another on her waist.

            “I’ve always wanted to do that,” he whispers, a smirk forming on his face.

           She swallows nervously. “The kiss or . . .”

            “The kiss and pulling the bow out of your hair,” he replies in amusement. “I thought I took it off before the party.”

           She stares at him in amazement, and then shakes her head, still not wrapping things around her finger. She’s way too confused. “You’re not . . . ?”  

           He gives her a lopsided grin, and then let his fingers gradually travel around Grace’s stomach. She shivers under his touch, partly because she’s ticklish and partly because his fingers are simply magic. “I never was.”

            “What, but—oh my God—all this time . . . I thought you were—ugh.”

            “I tried telling you, but you never listened.”

            “Didn’t you get annoyed when I kept talking about it, though?”

           He sighs. “Can we not talk about this? You’re—”

           Grace frowns a little. “Why not? All this time, I thought you were taken and I liked a stupid British guy who I thought was gay and you’re telling me to not talk about it? Do you know how embarrassing—”

           Drew brings Grace’s face toward his dangerously close while his eyes drops down to her lips. She shuts up immediately. “You talk a lot. I can’t concentrate on what’s coming out of your lips, Grace.”

           She feels her cheeks boiling as soon as he said that. Then, she says, “Good.” Abruptly, she pulls him down with the collars of his dress shirt for a second round.