Chapter 6 — Samira Wells Is Here

Antonio stifled a yawn. It demanded every ounce of talent he had to be at least somewhat interested in Samira Wells. He forced a smile, nodding as nonsense spilled from her lush, ruby lips. Coffee was the best thing man had ever invented. He had never been more grateful in his life for it, he thought as he sipped halfway down his cup before looking at Samira again.

This was all Anthony’s fault. His little brother was only doing his job, but did he really have to set up Antonio with this woman? True, for most men, sitting next to an exquisite creature was hardly a job. He also had her permission to put his hand all over her curvy body, as shown in the hundreds of paparazzi shots splashed in the tabloids and gossip rags since they were spotted attending a luncheon ‘together.’ It was Anthony’s idea to introduce him to Samira, currently the goddess of the fashion runway in Carlton. Aside from getting Antonio the right girl, Anthony was also working overtime generating buzz over Runner and trying to get him his next film projects.

He met some success. Antonio would be having a season-long arc as a special guest star in Emergent, a popular and critically acclaimed medical drama in Carlton. He was also the new face of Alt Fragrance for Men. Antonio’s name was also in the shortlist of an in-the-works movie that would hopefully launch a superhero franchise. Anthony wanted him to star in it. Antonio was more interested in smaller but meatier supporting roles. Anthony couldn’t understand why when he was the lead in Runner.

Antonio still had ambivalent feelings about being in front of the camera again. At his desk at home was a growing pile of scripts that he had classified as ‘shit’ and ‘shittier.’ There was nothing compelling or even remotely interesting in them. Anthony was panicking over another long hiatus, hence his decision to keep Antonio in the spotlight with a hot, model girlfriend.

He and Samira were not even really together. She was there to keep his name in the media. He was with her because she wanted to break into the movies next. Antonio just wished they didn’t have to be photographed, in so-called romantic poses at that, just to keep them in everyone’s minds. Half the time Anthony called the papzz on them. Sometimes it was Samira’s agent.

At the moment, they were in a café, sitting by the window, of course, eating avocado toast. Well, Antonio was trying to swallow it while it was a prop for Samira. It came on a white bread, but it wasn’t her day to have any carbs. Antonio barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes at wasted food when there were people starving. This was why he never enjoyed dating models and actresses. If they weren’t freaking out over gaining three pounds, they didn’t eat.

Samira beamed at him. She was a beauty, really. Thick, wavy black hair, round, dark eyes. Her skin was smooth and translucent. She was sexy, with real, full breasts, a small waist and long, slender legs. No matter the weather, she never wore anything below the knee. Right now, her short, black coat was draped on the back of her chair. She was wearing a long-sleeved black midriff and a matching mini skirt. She wore fur-lined ankle boots.

Antonio missed t-shirts and jeans on a woman.

Samira winked at him. Her eyes tilted up slightly at the corners, giving her an exotic, cat-eyed look. Antonio appreciated it when women made the time to put on make-up and look nicer than usual but winged eyeliner before nine in the morning was a little too much.

Karina doesn’t wear make-up.

He called a waiter over to ask for the check. Samira continued to smile and talk, too happy to just ramble on and not realize he hadn’t contributed anything in the last hour except for a few nods and a smile. Just as well. He was never in the mood to engage Samira in conversation. Any hope of making their pretend relationship real died when, asking her what preoccupied her mind when she wasn’t working, she revealed being obsessed with an app that tracked her calories throughout the day and recommended the changes she should make in her diet to keep her weight or lose a few more pounds.

Antonio put his arm around her waist as they left the restaurant, quickly keeping his head down as the paparazzi started taking photos of them, the glare from their cameras blinding even in the sunlight. While Samira threw them smiles and playful pouts, Antonio urged her to hurry down the street.

“Relax, Antonio,” Samira’s sultry voice was in his ear. She was close to his height in her shoes. “It won’t kill you to look happy when you’re with me.”

“Sorry about that. I’m not a morning person, that’s all,” he told her, hoping he at least sounded apologetic.

“I’ve noticed. And you’re really quiet.” Samira said. “You need to relax, Antonio. You know,” and she suddenly leaned close, pinning Antonio against the wall of a building. He tried not to make a face at her show of slight aggressiveness. Her dark eyes bored into his, her pouty lips curved in a sly smile. “We should fuck.”

“We should fuck,” he echoed lamely.

“We’re pretending to be together, anyway. And we like each other, don’t we? So, why not?”

Antonio stared at her. Every word in those sentences made sense. Taken as a whole, he couldn’t grasp it.

Thinking of sex took his mind back to the parking lot of that diner. Karina was a wildcat as she came, crying out and surrendering her body completely to her release. She was magnificent to watch, seeing her so abandoned like that. Her eyes showed her surprise too and it was sexy and sweet at the same time. It made Antonio want to slide his tongue inside her pussy again. He wanted to have as many rounds with her as possible.

He lay over Karina, unable to look away from the vividness of her gaze in the darkness. Cast in moonlight and the garish, orange glow from the diner’s sign, she was almost beautiful. The lights did not soften her but emphasized the strength of her arms, her lean torso. He so wanted another go, to sink his dick inside her this time.

She was looking at him, panting against his lips when he saw it happen. The cool, stoic woman he knew gradually returning. All that was left of the woman who shattered in his arms mere moments ago was in her fire eyes and she wouldn’t look at him anymore. Was she embarrassed? Did she hate herself? He never knew. Karina put her clothes back on then climbed back in the driver’s side. Antonio righted his clothes and returned to his seat, confused.

He debated about calling her the next day, and the day after that. He didn’t tell Anthony, not because he was embarrassed about having sex with Karina, but because something had happened to him that night. He couldn’t describe it well, only that there was a shift and nothing was ever the same.

A week passed. Finally, he caved and sent her flowers. Orange roses. They were the color of her eyes when she came in his arms. The last time he sent flowers to a girl was never.

Her reply came a day later. Or at least, a reply with Karina’s signature. It was an elegant, white card with the bullshit note about looking forward to working with him again. Antonio threw it in the trash, wanting to kick himself. Did he really think she felt the same? That just because he had tasted her, she wanted to see him again?

Antonio resolved to fix that by vowing to fuck the next piece of hot ass that came along. Enter Samira.

But he and Samira had never had sex. As beautiful and as sexy as she was, he didn’t feel any urge to take her. Antonio stared back at her, praying for the familiar stirring of his dick. She was pressed tightly against him, warm, full, female and smelling so good.

“Think about it,” Samira whispered, suddenly licking his lower lip. Antonio froze as her tongue touched him. They’ve kissed before. Samira was a decent kisser, but he wanted shy, awkward kisses. He wanted lots of fumbling and blushing cheeks. Fuck Karina Jones. The bitch exercised some sorcery to mess me up like this, he thought, closing his eyes and forcing himself to kiss Samira back.

She made a pleased, husky sound and Antonio waited for the familiar hardening in his pants. There was none. Not even the slightest heat of desire. Instead, he was trying not to pull away from the taste of Samira’s lipstick. He thought about being photographed by the paparazzi. It sobered him enough to pull away and catch his breath.

“Come home with me,” Samira whispered, putting his arms around her waist. “They want us to have sex. I want to have sex with you. You think about having sex with me.” Her breasts brushed against his chest.

Antonio would refute her last point, but he was past caring. He should stop thinking about her. It had been two months and after that generic card, he never heard from her again. But he couldn’t entirely blame her. He hated himself for having all these hopes and expectations. Even if he did not yet understand what they were.

But this he knew: he was an actor and if he wanted good roles to come his way, he was going to have to remain on the radar, no matter what. This is all he should think about, not tall, dark eyed women who left you hanging in the worst possible way.

He must have nodded because Samira laughed in his ear and took his left hand. Pulling him behind her, her slim arm raised in a graceful wave to hail a cab.

Samira kept an apartment in the city. Antonio had been there a few times, under the pretense of sleeping with her so the peps could take their shot. He would sneak out a few hours later from a back exit and dive in his waiting limousine.

His heart throbbed heavily in his chest, and he was seeing spots. Samira rubbed his knee, the sensation more annoying than arousing. Yet Antonio didn’t say anything as the cab pulled up in front of her building. He once again let her take him by the hand and bring him to her place.

The old Antonio Blake never saw one woman at a time. It was always several women, and if they were willing, took them at the same time too. He enjoyed women and sex. Nothing aroused him faster than a beautiful woman so eager to take him between her legs, her eyes bright with carnal anticipation at being fucked by someone as famous as he was, not to mention so handsome. Antonio tried to channel that as Samira’s lips returned to him once they were inside her apartment.

He felt her shrug off her coat before pulling him one step, one kiss at a time deeper in her place. Antonio removed his coat too. They fell on the bed, Samira smiling smugly up at Antonio.

She really was beautiful. Soft, dark with natural waves, black eyes, lips that promised hot kisses. She suddenly crossed her arms to pull off her sweater, so he sat back. A black, lace bra cupped her full breasts. Still smiling at him, she reached behind her to unclasp it. She had nice breasts.

Samira crooked her finger at him then lay back on the bed, arms raised over her head in submission.

Antonio felt his dick twitch ever so slightly.

We’re back in business.

He lowered himself over Samira, taking her lips in a soft, lingering kiss that made her moan. He kissed her neck. His hand cupped one of her full breasts and squeezed. His right arm raised toward her face to clumsily brush her hair from her cheek. He willed himself to float on the cloud of her exotic perfume but couldn’t forget how it felt to bury his nose in a neck smelling cleanly of soap, of rough hair tickling his cheek, the tip of his nose.

His shoulder lay beside Samira’s head. She stared at it, and he felt her tense. Antonio held his breath, not knowing what to expect.

He should retract his arm but if he and Samira were going to do this, she had to deal with his shoulder. He felt a tingle in his shoulder, remembering the warmth of Karina’s lips caressing the scarred, puckered skin. She kissed him there as if he was still complete.

She touched him and held him, looked at him in the eyes with no pity or fear. Only acceptance.

Samira looked at him and spoke.

“Antonio, um, have you…I mean, you’ve never thought of getting a prosthetic?”

* * *

Karina had never been so happy to see the moon rise in the sky. She spent half the day cooped up editing Runner with the editor before heading off to lunch with her agent, Jay Dalmer. He made another attempt to warm her up to the idea of directing a romantic comedy, which had her scowling at him over the salad.

The rest of the day was spent on more meetings. She met with Misha, who was one of her favorite novelists. Karina was an admirer of her work and professed wanting to direct the film adaptation of one of her books. Next, she was hijacked into having coffee with Gareth Giles, a handsome, ambitious young actor determined to get any role in her upcoming movies. He wanted to do something outside of the behemoth Warrior franchise, in which he was the titular hero. Meetings with studio execs and representatives of the Women in Windmere Entertainment followed. As soon as it began to grow dark, Karina excused herself, hopped in her SUV and sped home.

Queenie meowed loudly from the sofa as Karina let herself in. “Hi, baby!” she cooed, picking up the warm, ginger fluffy cat and hugging her. Queenie purred contentedly against her chest as she went to the kitchen, drawn by the shuffling sounds there.

It was Parker organizing the food purchases he had made for the week. Karina smiled and thanked him, then said it wasn’t his responsibility to put them in the shelves and the fridge. Parker flushed and mumbled that he didn’t mind.

“Well, if you have no dinner plans, would you mind joining me?” Karina asked him. “I was thinking of ordering a huge pizza.” She set Queenie down on the counter.

“Thanks, Karina. But Neena and I are going to the movies,” Parker told her. At Karina’s surprised expression, he flushed again. “Um, uh, that’s alright, isn’t it? I mean, she’s five years older than me and...” his voice trailed off and he looked at her hopefully.

She had to smile. Parker looked up to her and could be too grateful sometimes. He had a literature degree, useless in these times. He dreamed of writing a novel someday, or a screenplay. Karina hired him as a personal assistant, partly so he won’t starve, hugely so that he knew what it entailed to write for the screen. He was a trusted employee and she considered him a friend.

“Is that a problem for you?’ Karina asked as Queenie rubbed against her chin.

Parker shrugged. “No. Of course not. But…I mean, she’s kind of a somebody, isn’t she? What could she see in me?”

Knowing Neena, Parker was going to be a fling, nothing more. He didn’t seem smitten by her. Patting him on the shoulder, she said, “Just have fun. Don’t have any expectations. Go with the flow and... you might be surprised.”

Parker left half an hour later. Alone, Karina went around the house. It was small, originally with three bedrooms but perfect. She loved the woodwork of the walls and the floor, loved that it had the charming appeal of a storybook cottage. The house was over fifty years old but still structurally very good and stable. She was hesitant to introduce some changes but felt that since this was her gift to herself two years ago, then she should go all the way. Thus, expanding the master bedroom to include an en-suite bathroom.

Karina put a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice, took it with her upstairs and filled up the bath. Baths were one of her few indulgences. She poured aromatic salts and her favorite peach-scented bath cream in the rising pool. Then she poured herself a flute of the bubbly.

She left her clothes on the floor and walked naked to the bathtub. As she did, she saw herself in the mirror. Despite knowing she shouldn’t, she turned anyway to confront her reflection.

Nothing different in her body. Same flat chest, pathetic breasts, broad, straight waist, wide but unfeminine hips. Muscles in her arms and legs thanks to regular visits to the gym. Healthy. Nothing to be desired.

This has nothing to do with you.

Blushing, Karina dunked herself in the warm, soapy bath.

She rested her head on the porcelain edge of the tub, closing her eyes. It was ridiculous to still feel the things she had been feeling since that night in the diner’s parking lot. Antonio, who had called her ugly and a bunch of other insults since they first met, had looked at her as someone desirable.

Her chest tight, her fingers fluttered to her nipples, trying to imitate the feel of Antonio’s lips pulling at them gently. He had kissed her with a hunger she only read in trashy romances. Over and over his lips roamed her breasts, caught her nipples. She groaned now, after giving her nipples a rough pull, evoking his hard, sucking kisses.

She felt her pussy swell, even under the warmth of the bath. She bent her legs, trying to control the feeling but the memories wouldn’t be stopped. His eyes brilliant as they watched her shatter, his tongue firm and tasting her, taking her. His kisses showing her how it was to be a woman in his arms.

It scared her. Control was important to Karina. In a job where every day she faced harsher judgment simply for being a woman, she had learned to hide her emotions, to never show the smallest chink in her armor. She remembered the aftermath of her orgasm, her dazed vision slowly zeroing in on the satisfaction on Antonio’s face. That’s what she saw. No smugness. Nothing that would make her regret what just happened. It was her response that scared her. She wanted more. More of Antonio. More of him looking at her as if he wouldn’t change a thing. Those too short minutes were the only time in her life that she felt there was nothing wrong with her. That she was not a freak. She was never ridiculed.

No word passed between them afterward. Karina was quick to dress, confused, overwhelmed and terrified. She didn’t know if Antonio spoke, if he even said goodbye. She couldn’t sleep for one week, both dreading and hoping he would call. When the orange roses came, there was a strange flutter in her heart. They remind me of your eyes, Antonio had written.

It was the most beautiful message she had ever read. She held the card to her heart. Then she shoved it in her drawer and resolved to forget about it. She had been wounded too many times by pretty messages, had put her heart on the line too many times only to be crushed. When Parker asked if she wanted to send a thank you note or something to the person behind the orange roses, she just shrugged and told him to take care of it.

It was sad. The flowers were really beautiful and every time she looked at them, she remembered the way Antonio had stared at her, how he made her feel. She would stake her name and reputation without a problem. Her heart was another matter. He had turned to her because there was no one else. It had been a while since he fucked a woman. She was a woman, albeit ugly, but her pussy was warm and her breasts would do.

Karina’s hands fell to the sides. She opened her eyes, staring at the soft lights from the ceiling. It was hard convincing her heart that something meaningful to her was nothing for Antonio. She was almost thankful for the rags where Antonio’s photo appeared nearly every day, arm in arm or in a lip lock with that famous brunette model. Of course, he would be with a person like that. So, she was right to never make a bigger deal out of what happened in her car.

She looked forward to finishing editing Runner. With Antonio nearly in every scene, it was a struggle forgetting what happened between them. She was blown away by his acting, a catch in her throat every time his dark eyes reflected the character’s emotions. She tried focusing on his amazing talent, but his eyes made her forget, made her remember. Half the movie was done, at least. And with upcoming work and other events, she was sure to shake off whatever feelings she had, kill those fantasies and longings she should never have entertained in the first place. It was time to close the door.

She sat up long enough to reach for the delicate flute on the table and take a small sip of the delicious wine. There was no need for someone in her life, she thought. She was successful in her chosen career, had a roof over her head, she was in her bath, drinking her champagne. The sensations it awakened from the inside seemed like a dozen kisses all at once. This was as good as it was going to get. And if the buzz for Runner was right, she will win not only Best Director but also Best Picture come awards season. That would make her the first woman in Windmere history to win both awards.

Now this was a dream she held on to. It was the dream she could make real. This was why she looked the way she did. If she were like any other woman, would she have achieved what she had? Seen like this, then, she thought, there wasn’t a single thing she would change.

She finished the glass then settled back in the tub.

Work. Work was her life. Telling stories. Being behind the camera and shaping the unfolding of a narrative. It was what she wanted her whole life. All she wanted.

The bath salts and champagne teamed together to make it seem she was floating in the clouds. As a long, relaxed hum flitted from her lips, she heard a soft buzzing sound. Karina thought nothing of it until she heard it again, longer and more persistent this time.

Somebody was at the door.

Her eyes opened and she glared at the ceiling. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

With her car parked out front and lights left on at the door, whoever had come to destroy her bath was not going anywhere. Karina grunted about inconsiderate idiots—it was already nine-thirty!—as she threw on a robe. She stared longingly at her bath. No matter how quickly she sent off that idiot at the door, it was going to be too cold when she returned. Well. She could order herself pizza. With a defeated groan, she grabbed the bottle of champagne and took it with her downstairs. The buzzer continued.

“Alright already!” She yelled, switching on the lights and nearly tripping on Queenie. As the cat meowed in protest, she went to the door. “Who the hell are you?”

“It’s me.” Said a voice—the voice that had warmed her dreams for months. Karina stared at the door in disbelief.

This time, he knocked.

* * *

Antonio didn’t mask his relief when the door opened. It would be better if she was not glaring at him as if she wanted to take his remaining arm but here, she was, warm, her amber eyes more beautiful than he remembered, her face still ugly but making his heart beat erratically. He smiled at her, knowing it would deepen her frown. He was right.

He leaned casually against the door frame, realized he was missing an arm on that side and quickly switched. Karina crossed her arms.

“What the hell are you doing here, Antonio? And how’d you know where I live?”

“Hello to you too,” he drawled, not taken aback by her rudeness. “Missed me?”

Karina didn’t budge. “What do you want?”

You, he almost said. Instead, he pretended to shrug casually. “I happened to be just driving by.”

“You once told me that driving is beneath you.”

“Alright. My chauffeur was driving through.”

“Where is he?” Karina tried to peek past his shoulder but save for her car in the driveway, there was no other vehicle.

“I sent him away. I was hoping to talk to you.” More seriously now, he asked, “Can I come in?”

She hesitated then nodded quickly. His eyes lingered on the red spots rising in her cheeks before she stepped aside to let him pass. As he did, he caught her scent.

His dick liked it too.

What women like that make-up girl and Samira couldn’t do, she accomplished without a single thought. Antonio watched her close the door, look at her feet as if gathering her courage. He noticed for the first time that she was wearing a robe, a fluffy blue-gray color damp in interesting places. So, she just had a bath.

Despite standing in the warmth of her house, Antonio was still very unsure about his reasons for seeking her out. Karina didn’t seem the type to swoon over sweet words—hell, the tone of her thank you note was more of a business missive than the woman whose flavor made his mouth water for more. One thing he knew without question was she was not icy or cold in any way. She was all fire. Unlike a wild, destructive conflagration, she was slow-burning and enticed to be played.

The soft thump of the bottle being put on a side table by the door snapped him awake. Antonio frowned, realizing that her damp robe, cross expression and—was that champagne—meant.

“You—you don’t have company, do you?” He asked.

A dark eyebrow leaped up her hairline. “That’s an odd question. Have you come here to murder me, Antonio?”

Kill you with kisses. Fuck you until neither of us can stand. He managed to smile, the smug, confident, raking Antonio Blake grin described in a magazine once as a “Hey baby, take off your panties and let’s talk,” kind of smile.

Karina continued to scowl at him.

“I’ve had a long day,” she continued, putting a hand on her hip. Her expression softened to wariness. “What do you want?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Pardon me?”

“On second thought, I do know what I want but I’d rather say it later, when you’re hopefully more open about it. I have a feeling you’ll go after me with a meat cleaver. Not that I’m here to murder you. Or hurt you.” Karina suddenly looked away and light bulb went off in Antonio’s head. “Babe—Karina—I never, I swear to you that’s the last thing I’ll ever do. I’ll never deliberately hurt you. Believe that.”

She looked at him. Her eyes were dark orange. The tip of her nose was red.

“Antonio,” and she sighed. Her shoulders rose and fell deeply before she straightened them and looked at him. “What can I do for you? You couldn’t have just called me?”

Wow, she sounded pissed and tired. But Antonio was not going to back down. He had come too far to go back, and he didn’t want to.

“No.”

She stared at him again then gestured he sit on the couch. Antonio indicated that she sit first. She suddenly blushed and stammered, “Uh, I’m… I need to put on clothes, Antonio.”

But he nearly staggered realizing what that implied. He hungrily looked at the gaping neckline of her robe, at the damp spots on her breasts, her hip. “You look decent. Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

On the other hand, it might be the smart thing for her to wear more clothes. Antonio’s dick continued to warm and harden in his pants and she wasn’t even touching him, just looking at him, talking to him. It was remarkable. Her scent was subtle rather than overpowering, inviting a closer whiff instead of leaving a thick trail.

Karina didn’t like the last thing he said. She shook her head and sat down on the sofa, throwing a portion of the robe on her thigh because it parted to reveal the supple flesh. Antonio sat down next to her, grateful it was his right shoulder between them. He wouldn’t be tempted. Maybe. But his shoulder was beginning to ache. Not from the memory of the arm it used to have but that of her lips, her touch. He never felt like he had lost an arm at all. Or if he had lost anything.

“So...” his voice trailed off when he saw Karina jump at his voice. Why was she so fidgety? “How are you?”

“Antonio…”

“I’m trying to make a conversation here.”

“I’m trying to get to the bottom of your visit. I’ve had a long day. I’m tired. Could you please just tell me? And why are you telling me?” Her eyes flashed and she smirked. “Where’s your supermodel girlfriend?”

The grimace was on before he could stop himself. In spite of Samira throwing her purse at him and calling him a pathetic, one-armed fool, he still believed in being a gentleman. Besides he was a fool to turn down a hot piece of ass like her. He just didn’t have the kind of regrets a normal, red-blooded male was supposed to have.

“What’s the matter?” Karina continued. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Actually, it was no paradise,” Antonio realized that if he wanted something good to come out tonight, he will have to be honest. It took him the whole day to summon enough courage to bring himself to her front door, and some more in his confidence in sending his chauffeur away.

He focused on the puzzlement on Karina’s face as he seized his chance.

“Hmm, Samira and me. It was all Anthony’s idea. She wanted to transition into acting. He thought the best way to keep me on the radar was with a supermodel girlfriend. But it was nothing, Karina. We were never together the way we presented ourselves in photos. I’m an actor. She’s a model. We pretend for a living,” he said. “It doesn’t mean that…we tried how it would be. Together.”

He paused. Karina stared at him expectantly. “And?”

“I don’t want her.” He declared firmly. “I want you.”

“Sorry?”

“You heard me. I want you. All of you.” As Karina shook her head, he added, “I thought I made it clear before.”

“How? Remind me what you did to get that across.” Karina’s voice was shaking. “When did that happened? When you called me ugly? When have you called me bitch? When you told me to piss off?”

“Probably. I thought I said it with flowers.” As Karina blushed, he grunted, “Oh. You know what I’m talking about. Yes. Those flowers. I had to have them shipped all the way from Alaska and you send me a generic thank you note?”

“Who told you to get me flowers? Who told you to spend that much? That doesn’t obligate me. And you sent those a week after—” Another blush wave hit her, and Antonio smirked.

“Oh, good. You remember. Yes. I know I was an idiot waiting a week after tasting you to send you flowers.” It was almost satisfying seeing her blush and flinch. “But what was I supposed to do? You didn’t say one word after that. Not a single word. I thought to give you space. I was going to tell you that I hoped to see you again and you nearly ran over my toes driving away like monsters were after you.”

He remembered too well staring after her car, feeling bereft and small, like a dog suddenly dumped on the side of the road. He could still taste her. His fingers were still slick with her. Alright, so just because they had a little after-dinner fun it meant they should take it to the next step. Of course, he knew that. But he hoped, he wanted, for there to be something. This couldn’t be the last time. But he thought to give her room to breathe. He needed it too, to understand what happened. Because something had. He couldn’t let go.

He had to believe she felt the same.

Karina was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. God, she was the ugliest she had ever seen but he could not stop looking at her. He searched her beautiful eyes, waited for the deep husk of her voice to dismiss him and order him out—because he would leave if she asked. He couldn’t go on feeling as he did, not without telling her. If this was a one-way street—well, it was cruel, but he would survive. He’d been through worse, he thought, holding his shoulder in his left hand.

His movements drew her eyes there. She was still blushing, getting redder by the second but with her expression now normal, she wasn’t as ugly as she was seconds ago. It was tempting to brush his knuckles on her cheek, pass the pad of his thumb on her chapped, swollen lower lip.

“Does it hurt?” She asked softly.

He winced. “Every now and then. It just happens.”

“J-Antonio, I.” She groaned under her breath and turned, staring at her hands on her lap.

“Yes?”

“Why are you here?”

He was shocked. This was not the response he was expecting. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you come all the way here from wherever you came from to, what, actually? Yell at me?”

“No!”

“I-I’m confused. I’m sorry.” She was telling the truth. “I-I never...you can’t. You can’t possibly want me. Tell me you didn’t walk away from that Samira for, for—”

She couldn’t finish it. Antonio hovered between annoyed and moved.

“For you? Of course, I did, you idiot.”

“Why?”

“Why? Weren’t you listening what I said, what? A minute ago? What the hell do you mean why?”

Confusion remained on her flushed face. Did she not understand? But no, she did. She understood every word. She just couldn’t believe it, he realized.

It broke the heart. Who hurt you? Who made you stop believing?

Karina moved to stand, and Antonio quickly put his shoulder on her knee. He expected her to stiffen, to look away as Samira had. Instead, Karina remained where she was, staring at the scarred flesh on her person. Antonio was about to remove it when her hand hesitantly rested on top of it.

“How can I not want you? You’re the only person in my life besides my brother who won’t take my bullshit. You’ve known me for only a short time, but you’ve always seen me clearly, haven’t you?” His voice was gentler now that he understood where she was coming from. The muscles of her thigh under his shoulder were bunched tightly. She was anxious. She might even be scared.

“It’s me you want?” She was staring at him. “Just me? Not a role in my next movie, not—”

“Only you. You.”

She stared at where they were joined, his shoulder cradled in her hand. Antonio stared at the blue vein at the side of her neck. He wanted to kiss it, hoped a kiss would relax her and make her believe him more.

He was careful in moving closer, not wanting to send her into a panic or leap from the sofa. He moved until their knees were touching, and he was once again smelling her scent. Antonio then put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. She was too tall to rest her head on his shoulder, but he wasn’t complaining. He held her, rubbing clumsy circles on her back as her trembling body leaned against him. He kissed her on the shoulder, the tip of her ear.

“Why me, Antonio?” She whispered in his ear. She pulled back a little so she could see him.

He stared in her eyes, at the mess of her hair, her homey face, her big teeth. The tensed expression on her face that seemed to be mix with some hope too. He’ll take it.

He had so many reasons for why not her. They didn’t have the entire night to do it.

Antonio kissed her on the lips, resisting the urge to groan. But it was like coming home at last. Karina continued to shake against him.

“Why me?” Karina was pleading with him now. She was not resisting his kisses. “Antonio, please, I need to know. Why me?”

He looked in her stunning amber eyes and felt complete.

“I dream of you.”