Going up to her room, she sighed, shutting the door and locking it, finally free from her father's incessant insistence that she socialize with the political hierarchy at her birthday celebration. There was nothing more underhanded than all of his supporters wishing his daughter a happy birthday, and showering her with "do me favor" gifts. Anyone she took a liking to would get special treatment, and they knew it.

At least her father considered her opinion somewhere in there when he smothered her in good influences. All those private-school-raised, scholar children of his political and financial supporters didn't really have anything in common with her. Even less with her gang. The ones she favored were the ones who were less likely to bother her.

Cracking her neck, she rubbed it and pressed her back to the door and tried to slide down it onto the floor. She never made it. A hand clamped down over her mouth and used it to shove her up against the hard wood. She met with a familiar pair of pine-flecked eyes and was happy that he'd covered her mouth.

She would have definitely screamed. Well, she was still thinking about doing so.

The last thing Tanner had done with her was yell at her and abandon her in Oliver's basement, and the expression he was casting down on her wasn't exactly his fluffy reunion face. The downward curve of his lips and the tight ridge of his eyebrows had her heartrate at about a thousand beats a minute. As he slid his hand off of her mouth, she tried to stop her breath from coming out raggedly.

"How did you get in here?" Today her house was filled with politicians, and Tanner had the audacity to just waltz through them and into her bedroom?

"Once upon a time, I was a trapeze artist... and it didn't take much surveillance to figure out which room was yours." Tanner smiled, calmer than she thought he would be in such a dangerous location and after their last meeting. Pressing his forehead to hers, he tickled her nose with a few curls of hair that had escaped his ponytail. "Happy birthday."

Everyone else who'd said it today hadn't mattered. His saying those words warmed her heart, and she glowed with a smile in his direction.

"You didn't look like you were having fun."

"You were watching me?" Rachel blushed, probably too excited to be with him for the first time since their argument.

"Every second." Running his hand down her face, he slid it under to the tip of her chin and lifted it gently.

"You sound like a genuine stalker." Rachel's facial expression was flat, and he smiled coyly.

"In over your head?" A taunt, as expected from him.

"Hardly, I think I can handle yo–" Before she could finish the sentence, he lifted her off the floor and deposited her sitting upright on the side of her bed.

"Clearly," Tanner scoffed as he knelt on the floor and pulled out a small jewelry box. "For you," Tanner said, setting it on her thigh.

"Are you proposing?" Rachel asked as she fingered it.

Tanner lowered his eyebrows before losing his face into one of his hands. Gripping his temples, he let out a tired groan, and she chuckled.

"If you don't want confusion, then you shouldn't be kneeling." Rachel chuckled, but he remained on his knees on the floor.

"If you don't want me to kneel, then you shouldn't be so short," Tanner retorted in a tight, aggravated voice that made her laugh harder.

"I wouldn't be so short if you hadn't sat me on the bed."

"Yes, clearly, my bad. Shall I return your gift?" Tanner went to take it back, and she snatched it up, curling herself around the box to defend it. The astonished look on Tanner's face molded into a light chuckle. "A moment ago, you were joking about my gift. Now you want it?" Tanner stood, and she leaned back nervously as he placed his hands on the bed on either side of her legs, bringing his face perilously close to hers. "Well?"

"I do," Rachel said, defensively clutching it, and he narrowed his eyes.

"Really?" Tanner breathed into her ear, slipping his hands into her hair, and her breath hitched when his mouth brushed against it. Only a moment after, he leaned back, but her face was flushed ear to ear, and she couldn't meet his eyes. "If you don't open it, I'll think you want me to take it back." Tanner nudged her face with his nose, breathing gently onto her hair.

"Well... ... if you let me... breathe, I'll happily open it," Rachel fumbled her words, and he leaned away from her, for the first time noticing how nervous she was.

"I'm sorry." Tanner stood, moving away, and she snapped her eyes up to him. There was an apologetic but also sickened look in his eyes that pulled on her heart.

"I didn't mean it like that, Tanner," Rachel said quickly. "You make me nervous, not uncomfortable. Sit next to me so I can open it with you." Rachel patted the bed next to her, and he stared at it but didn't move. "You had to have climbed on my roof and into my windows, so there is no easy escape route if you're thinking of fleeing."

Tanner wasn't moving, and she sighed.

The first time he'd gotten close to her and she'd shoved him away on accident.

"What if I shake it?" Rachel tried, lifting it to her ear.

A snap of his hand kept her from shaking anything, her wrist gripped firmly in his. Startled, she looked to him, and he retracted his hand just as fast before looking away from her.

"So, don't shake it?" Rachel chuckled, and it lightened Tanner's mood enough for him to find a seat next to her on the bed.

When he did so, the mattress dipped from his weight and she was pulled slightly closer to him. Happy to now be leaning against him, she turned the little black box in her hand in anticipation. Tanner watched her, absorbed in whatever reaction she might make as she opened it. The jewelry box opened with a little click and revealed a blue flower with jewels filling each petal and a silver streak outlining each. Touching it with her fingers, she looked up to Tanner's waiting eyes.

"Of all the things you could have gotten a tomboy like me, you got me jewelry?"

"Well, you've only looked at half of it." Tanner rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous fashion, and she returned her gaze to it.

Tilting the box, she looked back to him not understanding. With two of his fingers, he lifted the flower and moved the cardboard that was holding it. Only after he hung it in the air did she notice the neck-weight dangling.

Glittering in the air, a white-jeweled blade, edged by a line of obsidian stole her breath. It was about half the size of the flower and she reached her hand out to feel the cool metal on her fingers.

"I figured that someone as beautiful as you with such an edge probably doesn't get much jewelry." Tanner's smirk was washed out by the kind roll of his viridian eyes over her.

It was hard to hide her embarrassment as Tanner hit that nail on the head.

"Even so," Tanner continued, "I have a passion for and love sharp, beautiful things." They shared a laugh, and afterward, a strange expression reflected in his eyes as he slid it back into her palm. "It's white gold by the way, and there are more karats in that than in a vegetable patch. Please don't lose it."

"Why would I lose it?" Rachel paused. "And why is it so expensive?" Something simple would have sufficed.

"Because nothing would look half as beautiful next to your face, so I tried to get close."

How Tanner could say something so cheesy to her face was beyond her. Aside from that, he was being abnormally friendly, and she wondered if perhaps he was trying to make amends in his own way for leaving her behind.

"Well, I should have expected you'd get something that could stab me in the back." Rachel fiddled with it to open the clasp, but Tanner took it back from her just as quickly as he'd given it. It looked like he had a much easier time opening it than her clumsy hands. He brought his hands behind her neck and laid it on her collarbone as he secured it for her.

"If you treat it well, it won't stab you in the back." Tanner's smirk rose to sinister, and she rolled her eyes.

"How much did this cost?"

Tanner actually thought to himself, glancing to the side and returning his gaze to her with a shrug.

"I don't know." It wasn't exactly reassuring and he could tell by her gaze that she was trying to figure out what that meant. "I had Oliver get it custom made for you. Maggie would notice if I bought anything that expensive, even though I do have my own bank account."

"I'm in debt to the mafia?"

Tanner chuckled. "No, I'm in debt to the mafia. It's nothing you need concern yourself with." Tanner's hand was wandering again and it ran gently across her cheek before sifting through her hair, but he let out a small sigh and his smile fell.

"You said I'm beautiful," Rachel sassed him, and his sinking emotions snapped back to a narrowed glare.

"I don't need to tell you. You are, and you know it."

"But hearing you say it is different." Rachel nudged him. He crossed his arms and looked away from her. "I also heard the word love slip out of your mouth."

"I was talking about my knives," Tanner shut her down, and she frowned.

"I like you, you know," Rachel said. "I'm not going anywhere." Rachel reached her hand for his but he moved just far enough back that she couldn't reach.

"Letting you feel that way is akin to taking advantage of you," Tanner insisted.

"I feel like with how pushy I am, that it should be viewed as me taking advantage of you."

"You're half my size." Tanner didn't even give her a chance to breathe after she'd finished speaking.

"Anyone is half your size with those muscles. If we don't count your arms, I think I'm a good three-fourths."

"Not even close," Tanner crossed his arms, and she grumbled.

"Oliver says you like me," Rachel continued on this line of interrogation, and Tanner let out a disdainful groan.

"Oliver needs to learn to keep his mouth shut. I thought you two weren't talking."

"Oh no, were best friends now. You know, because we have so much in common."

Tanner shook in laughter at her sarcasm. Oliver and she were about as dissimilar as an orange and an allen wrench.

"Come on, you like me." Rachel nudged Tanner's ribs.

"If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be here. Your like and my like, I don't think are the same thing." After a moment, Rachel felt the slow caress of his hand over her hair, and she blushed as he ran down it before gliding his cool fingers across her cheek and then starting over.

"How is my like different from your like?" Rachel asked quietly.

For once, he was silent as his hand stopped moving, pressing her head to his shoulder.

"Well, I like... being indoors, maintaining my strength, playing pool, and sitting around with a glass of whiskey to relax with people. I like talking, and spending time with you doing boring things.

"You on the other hand, like scuffles with your gang, playing sports, and getting yourself into horribly dangerous situations with me. I feel like I'd bore you. I'm not into much of that, I'm afraid."

"You don't bore me, Tanner. All I wanted for my birthday anyway was you." Rachel countered his cheesy comment from earlier with her own, and he let out another slow breath. "You know I'm an adult now." Rachel bragged.

Tanner let out a whistle of a breath before he inhaled it back into laughter. "Legally." The one word was cut sharply at the end.

Why did he have to be so cruel?

"I feel like since you're already in my bed, you should humor me," Rachel said, placing her hand on his thigh. Like a flyswatter on a fly, he smacked it with his and placed it firmly back onto her leg.

"The floors and walls here a thicker than the ones in prison. No one would hear anything." Rachel smirked, but Tanner's expression had become placid with refusal.

She snaked her hand out to touch his chest, and he smacked it away again. It drew a challenging smile of her face as she tried again only to have it twisted and pushed back. After about a minute or so, she panted in exhaustion from fighting with his arms. There was no way to get through that way.

Staring at him in thought, she got up and slid in front of him with a menacing stare. "No one is going to bother me this afternoon. It's the same every year, my gift from my dad after giving him what he wants for the morning, space," Rachel said to distract him as she slid closer. "It's my birthday, and you should give a little at least." Rachel tried, stopping in front of his knees, and he raised an eyebrow.

"What is a little?" Tanner asked, less curious and more as a snide retort.

It gave her enough time and hesitation from him to slip up onto the bed, one leg on either side of his own. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he became rigid.

"It's not that bad," Rachel whined, seeing how miserable he was. "Relax, Tanner. It's not like I can strip your pants off in this position or anything." She chuckled.

He groaned and ran his hands up his face, clutching so hard that she was surprised he didn't peel it off. In a quick movement, he spun to try and knock her off. She fell back against the bed but refused to let his neck go. She held onto it, and he glared down at her. This was so much worse than her just sitting on his lap, and she laughed, holding him prisoner. With one knee in between her legs and his hands on either side of her head, he grit his teeth as he pinned her with his eyes.

Running a hand down his hair, she tugged on the end of his ponytail to pull his face closer to hers, but he didn't budge.

"If you want to make me uncomfortable, you might as well be too," Tanner said

Sitting up, he pulled her with him and relaxed against the headboard. She was left sitting on the bed between his legs that were slightly bent for him to sit comfortably back.

"Happy?" Tanner grumbled at her, and she smiled, though her face was a shade of red.

"Almost," Rachel answered, running her hand over his face.

On occasion, Tanner touched her, but she'd never really had the opportunity to do so to him. It was invigorating, running the tips of her fingers down his cheek and over his clean-shaven skin. Trailing them gently down his neck and to the collar of his ivory shirt, she tugged on the buttons and pulled the first two open. She slid her hand into the fabric but didn't get far as he grabbed her hand and removed it.

"Rachel, please don't." Tanner's voice was tight, and she could tell that sitting between his legs had not made any of this easy on him.

"Are you going to get really angry?" she asked. "Let me touch your chest." Wiggling her hand, she got him to release it with a groan.

"Fine, but I'm not consenting to do anything else with you." Tanner moved his hands behind his back to grip the lower bar of her headboard and looked away from her.

Carefully, she slid her fingers down his shirt and unhitched the buttons. Tracing her fingers back up his chest, she pulled his shirt open to explore his skin, and Tanner gripped her poor bed frame so hard that the muscles in his neck tightened.

Numerous nicks speckled his chest and she inspected each, one by one, before she tugged on his shirt cuffs to open them. She rolled up his sleeve to his elbow and flinched on four long, smooth scars across his arm, complimented by many smaller ones.

"What is this one?" Rachel asked, but he was gritting his teeth and breathing too unevenly to immediately respond. "Tanner? Are you okay?"

"I wrestled a tiger," Tanner managed out, his voice strained.

Rachel laughed as she traced them with her fingers. "That's what every guy says when you ask about scars."

Word count: 2829 -- Edited July 14th, 2020