I step outside quickly after introductions are finished, and everyone starts bustling around to get dinner started. I feel like I might get sick, or I might just start maniacally laughing. Either way, I don't feel like I should be around people. I slip out the French doors off the living room, and out onto the patio.

I'm blasted in the face with cold air, coming straight off the harbor. The temperature has dropped considerably since earlier in the afternoon, and with the sun down, it's quite cold. This was a terrible idea. The culmination of so many terrible ideas.

Only I could mess up a pretty straightforward one night stand. Only I would pick the brother of a close friend. How did I even manage? And now, to complicate matters worse, he seems to have a girlfriend! I'm not sure whether to be mad, or to be resolute in the idea that I am not a one-night-stand kind of girl. Should have just stuck to my tried and true shrew routine. No one ever died of embarrassment from being a prudish museum curator. Okay, maybe died of boredom, but still.

And the worst part-the most embarrassing part-is that I sort of convinced myself that it was a fling, but a fling with meaning. He'd just been so convincing. So sweet, and genuine. We'd had quite a good time together, the night of and the day after. I'd convinced myself that I was different. I was the kind of girl that you remember. And oh, he remembered me, alright. Probably as the girl he cheated on his girlfriend with.

"Shit." I mumble, wrapping my arms around my chest. I take a few deep, cleansing breaths. Or, I tell myself they are cleansing. I don't feel much better. There's no way I can go home. Leaving early is not really an option. And I don't have the money to stay anywhere else. That's the bad part about freeloading off of a very generous friend. If the situation isn't ideal, then you sort of have to live with it. This situation is...not...ideal.

"Well you really dug yourself a nice, deep hole this time, eh, Gracie girl?" Santos steps outside and I roll my eyes, taking a deep breath. I don't say anything.

"Let me get this straight. Because my spidey-senses were tingling. Like, not just tingling, they were off the charts, Richter Scale level. Is Tom your slutty friend from Punta Cana? Did you actually let all your long overdue sorority girl fantasies out on Emily's brother?" Santos steps in front of me, and wraps his arms around me, pulling me face first into his chest. I let him hug me, but I don't return it. I just stand pressed against him, blinking and staring unseeing into his chest.

"Oh Gracie." He sighs and then hugs me tighter. I shake my head and feel some laughter bubble in my throat. It's not funny. It's the opposite of funny, but I can't help but laugh. Only me. I feel Santos start to laugh as well, and we both just stand there for a minute, shaking with silent laughter, and shivering slightly from the cold.

"What a mess." I breathe softly. He rests his chin on my head for a minute before shrugging.

"Well, I thought I'd be bored this week. And then look at you, coming in with your fake names and your sleazy pastimes." He grins.

"I'm really embarrassed, Santos. We can't tell Emily." I plead softly. He nods.

"Don't be embarrassed. And I don't think she'd really care. She'd probably be annoyed with Tom, but not with you." He offers. I figure this is true. Not that either of us really have anything to be sorry for, but Emily is that sort of person. She'd stand up for the "honor" of her friend, and berate her silly brother for being a manwhore.

"Well, please, as much as I know you like stirring the shit pot, please, don't. Emily was so nice to invite me here, and I don't want to ruin this week for anyone." I ask. Santos nods and I know he'll keep his word.

"I won't say anything. He is gorgeous, Gracie. You did good, kid." He lets me go and I frown at him.

"He is gorgeous." I say softly, sighing.

"You could have another go." Santos lifts one shoulder and directs me toward the house.

"I'm sure his girlfriend would love that." I mumble.

"Do you think he was dating her when you met him?" Santos asks the question that's been tumbling around in my head. I pause for a second and then keep walking.

"I hope not. I don't know." I say softly, as we walk back into the warmth of the house.

****

Dinner is an interesting affair. Mrs. Hiddleston is exactly how Santos described her. Warm, caring, and the kind of mother you only read about in fairytales. She's sweet and genuine and absolutely dotes on her children. Santos and I sort of sit back and marvel at what it must be like to have a mother who is so perfectly wonderful. When she turns her attentions on us, we both just sort of turn pink and stammer a lot. We're not used to the motherly attention, though it is so nice. It's like the warmest, softest blanket on a cold day.

Emily and Mrs. Hiddleston do most of the talking during dinner. Tom is relatively quiet, and he doesn't look at me the entire meal. At one point I am purposefully trying to bore a hole into his head with my eyes, just to see if he'll look. He doesn't.

"The Forresters are coming in tomorrow morning. And your Aunt and Uncle should be in in the afternoon. The last to arrive will be great Aunt Rose and your cousin Melaney. I'm afraid it's a lot of us olds this year. Most of the kids are off doing their own thing." Mrs. Hiddleston says with a smile as she passes around another bowl of something delicious.

"Marky is coming in tomorrow." Emily beams. Mark is her new boyfriend. They've only been dating for a few weeks, but she seems absolutely smitten. I've met him a handful of times, and he's a very cool guy.

"Oh great." Tom grumbles, and sits back.

"Please, Tom." Emily laughs and punches him roughly on the arm.

"He'll talk about football for forty five minutes and then he'll demand that we watch that highlights reel for another hour." Tom grins at Emily, and it's very apparent he's just trying to get a reaction out of her.

"So, he likes football. Doesn't everyone?" She shrugs and then narrows her eyes at Tom.

"Yes, but I think he really likes football. Like, he wants to know it intimately. Biblically. If it were possible." Tom grins wide, and then he looks at me and he winks. It happens so fast, it happens so quickly that I'm not sure it even actually happens. I put my fork down and I take a drink of my water, focusing on keeping it in my mouth and swallowing like a normal person.

"Shut up." Emily laughs and Mrs. Hiddleston shakes her head at her son.

"What about you two? Santos? Anyone special? Gracie?" Mrs. Hiddleston asks, demurely changing the subject. I defer to Santos, letting him speak first. The favorite part of being the only single at a dinner-answering the question 'Are you seeing anyone special?'

"I won't lie, for a moment, I thought there may have been something between me and Marky-poo." Santos raises an eyebrow at Emily, who laughs. "But, no, not at the moment. The well seems a bit dry for once. It's good though, Mrs. H. I'm focusing on my career, etcetera, etcetera." Santos waves his fork as he talks. Mrs. Hiddleston nods, looking satisfied with his answer.

"I'm sure you'll find someone soon, Santos. You're quite the catch." She nods. "You know, my accountant is gay. He's quite good looking too. I bet you'd get along." She nods matter-of-factly. Tom blinks twice and then puts a hand over his mouth, suppressing something, most likely a laugh. Emily looks at her mom, her mouth open.

"Mum! Please! Santos doesn't just...date anyone." Emily shakes her head. Mrs. Hiddleston looks amused and she giggles. Santos laughs good naturedly.

"Well, if he's cute, I might as well meet him." He shrugs.

"Oh darling, I didn't mean anything rude by it." Mrs. Hiddleston reaches over, grabbing Santos' hand and squeezing.

"No offense taken. I actually appreciate the extra lookout, Mrs. H." He grins, rubbing her hand. She looks at me then, and I am suddenly aware that there are five sets of eyes turned to me, waiting for my answer. I swallow, and I consider making up a fantastic boyfriend for a minute, but I know I can't quite pull that off.

"Um. Same as Santos. No one really. Just...you know, focusing on my career. I actually just got a promotion at work. So I'm finally doing gallery work." I say, my voice sounds stilted and weird. Saying it out loud sounds sort of lame and a little sad. Tom is watching me, though I can't honestly say that I think he's listening. He has this weird, plastered looking smile on his face. His girlfriend, Jenny, is sitting next to him, and I can see her hand resting on his thigh. Ooph.

"That must be great work." Mrs. Hiddleston says, looking genuinely interested. Bless her.

"Yeah. You know, you and Tom probably have a lot in common. You both like old, dead guys." Emily chirps up, motioning between the two of us. I frown.

"Oh?" I have no idea what Tom does for a living. I made sure of that back in the Caribbean. I just know he's never around. I look at him, and he meets my eyes.

"What do you do?" I ask softly, the words falling out of my mouth. He presses his lips together, and stares at me for a second before taking a sip of wine and then running a big, capable hand through his dark hair. Hello, where did that observation come from? It shouldn't matter to me how big his...hands are. Or how capable they are. As long as he has hands, that's all I need to know. Or even if he doesn't have hands. Either way. It's really none of my business, to be honest. Am I babbling?

"I'm an actor." He says, rather humbly. As if he's not quite used to saying it.

"Really?" I suddenly feel my stomach drop. An actor. Something about that makes me feel terrible. He's an actor. So he's good at faking things. Faking feelings and emotions. I wonder how often he plays the part of "Will." Silly, silly girl I am. Thinking that the man I met a month ago perhaps had been someone just a bit special. A diamond in the rough. Sure, it had been a fling, but it had been a fling with meaning, dammit!

"Yes. He's fantastic too, Grace. He's just signed on for a huge movie. It's based on the comic-" Emily starts rambling but Tom stops her, smiling and holding up a hand.

"Em, I don't think everyone wants to be bored with the details of my work." He offers.

"No, please. I'd love to hear about your acting. You must be a really, really great actor. I've always been fascinated by acting. All the drama, all the lies, pretending to be one thing and really being something else." I say with a nod. He looks at me, tilting his head slightly. There's a bite to my voice that I can't quite hide.

"You look like you'd be pretty good at pretending to be someone else, as well." He says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. I hear Santos start to wheeze sitting next to me, but I don't look at him. I merely pinch his leg under the table.

"What...are you talking about?" Emily frowns and looks at her brother. Out of context, our conversation honestly doesn't make much sense. Tom blinks and then breaks eye contact.

"Mum, Jenny and I are celebrating three weeks together tomorrow." He looks at his mom, ignoring his sister and changing the subject in a rather obvious way.

"Oh? How lovely!" Mrs. Hiddleston smiles at him, not seeming to notice the all around awkwardness that had just been exchanged.

"Right. We met right after I got back from holiday with Em. It was perfect timing." Tom glances at me, his look level and somewhat challenging. I look away, feeling something roll and boil within me.

"I remember, yes. Are you doing anything special?" Mrs. Hiddleston asks.

"Tom said he'd take me to dinner, but we won't be long. It's Christmas Eve, so we wanted to be here with the family." Jenny smiles, speaking for what seems like the first time all evening. She doesn't say much. She's the sort of girl that seems more there for decoration than anything else.

"Take her to Salterns." Emily pipes in. Tom shoots his sister an annoyed look.

"Yeah." He nods, annoyed that she'd suggest something so obvious.

"What is Salterns?" Santos asks.

"A fancy schmancy restaurant. I'm sure he can afford it now that he's making the big bucks." Emily grins wide at him, and Tom scowls at her for a moment.

"He better take me somewhere fancy!" Jenny says, slipping an arm around Tom's waist and pulling him toward her. She rests her head on his shoulder, and Tom smiles, but doesn't quite return the hug. Interesting. I'm like Nancy Drew over here. Girl Detective.

"Three weeks is a long time for you, Tommy." Emily says. I can tell they like pushing each other's buttons. Tom grins at Emily, all teeth.

"Well, when you find the right girl." He says as Jenny melts against him, looking up with big, bright eyes. I look away, feeling rather strange. Do normal people get themselves into these situations? Having dinner with a fling and his new girlfriend? Something about this feels rather sadomasochistic.

"I'm feeling pretty tired. If you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to head to my room and get some sleep." I hear myself talking before I've even given myself time to think. I must be more tired than even I've realized. My thoughts and my actions aren't really on the same page.

I quickly thank Mrs. Hiddleston for a delicious dinner, and she stands and gives me a hug goodnight. The sweetest woman. I give a general, awkward wave goodnight to everyone else, and then I excuse myself quickly.

I think I've had enough for one day. Enough for one long, unbelievable day.

I catch Tom's eye as I leave the table. He is watching me, his lips parted slightly, like he wants to say something. I avoid his eyes and I turn away. I don't know that we have anything to say to each other.

The simple truth is, there is nothing I should really be mad about, or even all that annoyed. We made no promises to each other. We both knew it was a one time thing. My gut reaction seeing him had been rather confusing. Embarrassment, panic, worry, and perhaps a little bit of shocked excitement. But in all honesty, he owes me nothing. Even if he had cheated on Jenny with me (which he hadn't), I couldn't really have been mad at him. It had been sex. Just sex. It was no one's fault that it turned out to be not quite as anonymous as we'd intended.

I leave the dining room quickly, making my way through the maze of halls and toward the stairs to the second floor. I can't help but remember the last time I saw him. The last night we'd spent together.

After bumping into each other at the waterfall, we'd ended up back at his room again. I don't know how it happened, but I spent a second night with him. it was against all the rules, but I just could not help myself.

It had been nearing two or three in the morning, we were lying, our legs and arms intertwined in a heap of twisted sheets and blankets. His head had been on my chest, and I had my hands in that perfect, messy blond hair. He had some candles lit throughout his little bungalow room, and they flickered and glowed off of his tan skin. He positively glowed.

"Tell me something about yourself, Gracie." He asked, his voice deep and throaty. I smiled, my eyes half closed, lulled into relaxation by the amazing things that had taken place in the past few hours.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I whispered. He moved, resting his chin on my breastbone, his blue eyes finding mine. His face was so lovely. All cheekbones and a perfect, heart stopping smile.

"Why?"

"Because this was supposed to be a one time thing, and now...it's been a two time thing, plus some hanky panky at a waterfall." I grinned, closing my eyes. The afternoon at the waterfall had been, well, nothing short of amazing.

"Hanky panky? That's adorable." He chuckled. "You could tell me something about yourself and we could make it a reoccurring thing." Tom said softly. I opened my eyes, just barely. He scooted up slightly, coming up and leaning on his arm that he slipped behind my head. I licked my lips, then reached up and ran a finger over his mouth. He had a thinner top lip, and a slightly lusher bottom lip, but they were made for kissing. For kissing and being kissed.

"I can't, Tom." I breathed.

"But you're fantastic. And I want to see you again." He said softly, looking down and running his fingertips down between my breasts. He moved slowly, running over the swell of my breast, and then across my nipple. I felt my breath hitch, and I shifted, wrapping my leg around his thigh. He pushed against me, his pelvis rolling into my hips.

"I just got out of a relationship. Something really serious." I said, my voice breathless as he rocked against me, and kept kissing my throat and shoulders. "He...broke my heart. I don't think I am in place to try something else. Especially not something long distance. And judging by that entirely too sexy accent of yours, I'm guessing you're not from New York." I smiled softly, then leaned toward him and kissed his throat. He groaned softly, and I felt the noise vibrate in his throat and into my lips.

"He's an idiot, Gracie. I'm sorry to hear that." Tom leaned down and pressed tiny, soft kisses along my jaw. I ran my hands into his hair again, rubbing against his scalp, which made him moan. It hadn't taken me long to find his weaknesses. His hair and the sides of his neck. Both places I was more than eager to rub, massage and kiss.

"Thank you."

"I don't go to New York often, but I travel a lot. I'm a-"

"Shh, don't tell me anything about you. Please." I stopped him, pressing a finger to his lips. He smiled, and looked away, shaking his head.

"You're something else, you know that?"

"I leave tomorrow. You are like no one I've ever met before, Tom. I can't get attached. I won't. The less I know, the better." I said gently. He looked down at me, his blue eyes darkened and serious. He ran a hand over the side of my face, and then down behind my neck. Tom lifted my head slightly, bringing it up to meet his. He kissed me, hard and passionate, his mouth crushing against mine, his tongue sliding somehow rough and smooth at the same time against my own. It was like he was trying to make sure I'd remember him.

How could I have forgotten him?