Wanted Always (Xander Barns) (9 page)

Chapter
Seven

*Marisa*

Shampoo.

Aftershave.

Cologne.

These three
items dangerously invade my nostrils as soon as my arms wrap around Ben’s
shoulders.

And it is
very dangerous, because I could feel my eyes desperately wanting to roll back
as if I’m simmering in ecstasy after the first sniff.

Totally not
good, and yet, so freaking fantastic. Like I said: dangerous.

The slow
song playing invites many more of the partygoers to the dance floor, and every
inch of it is soon crammed with feet. I feel Ben’s arms squeeze around my
waist, pulling me further into his embrace.

This is not
good.

“What do you
think you’re doing?” I whisper to him, tilting my head back to look him in the
eye. His soft brown eyes take me hostage for a moment before he speaks.

“Dancing,
isn’t that obvious?” he answers softly.

Oh God.
Sweet Ben. How could I forget? Sweet Ben is a deadly assassin in the emotion
department all well on his own. He’s showing this side of himself for a reason.
I just have to figure out what his plan is and what he really wants.

“It is
obvious, but you know what I mean,” I reply back, mimicking his tone, but with
a touch of assertiveness.

“Do I?” he
asks, not blinking.

Great, now
we’re playing the question game. I look away first.

“Whatever,”
I murmur, and concentrate on swaying my body to the music instead of against
his hard body.

GOD!

There’s that
good old trouble inside me, stirring.

“Can you
like – give me some space, please?” I ask him as I pull my body away from his;
but his arms tighten in response and pull me in again.

“I’m good
where I am,” he murmurs.

“Yeah? Well,
I’m not, so a little space, please,” I pull back again, and this time he doesn’t
pull me back in.

“Better?” he
asks.

“Much,” I
reply and look back at his face. I find his jaw clenched and his eyes slightly
angry.

“What?” I
ask defensively.

He looks
away and shakes his head.

“What’s the
problem now?” I ask him, and he turns his eyes back to me accusingly.

Why is he
staring at me like I’m the one who’s torturing him? He’s the one who did me
wrong.

“It’s going
to be okay,” I tell him and he looks at me confused. “I understand, though.”

“What are
you talking about?” he asks me warily. I lean in a little.

“I know what
it feels like to chafe down there . Be sure to tell your mother to use baby
powder tonight when she’s changing your diaper right before you go night-night,
okay?” I tell him, doing my best to keep a straight face. It’s really hard.

It takes him
a moment to catch on, but when he does, he looks like he wants to chew me out,
show me how things ‘really are’.

Wouldn’t
I like that now?
I smile snidely at him as he shakes his head in disbelief.
All of a sudden, the song ends. I let go and pull out of his hold forcefully.

“Song’s
over, nice dancing with you,” I tell him abruptly, then leave him standing
alone on the dance floor. As I sit back down, I glance back at the
still-crowded dance floor. He’s not looking at me; instead, he’s hunched and
flailing his arms around as if he’s angry.

Which he has
no right to be, because he is the villain in this story, not me. Maybe someone
else pissed him off and he has the right to be angry ; but not with me. The
crowd breaks a little, and my eyes widen when I see Mom and Gwen standing with
their arms wide open in shock as Ben says something to them, turns around, and
quickly walks off the dance floor.

Clearly
brooding.

But again,
not my problem. Before, when he acted like a little bitch whenever he didn’t
get his way, he’d turn into this sensitive prick and everyone would get on
their hands and knees to make him feel better.

Nobody more
than me, but even I had my limits.

As Ben makes
his way off the dance floor, Mom and Gwen don’t dance when the DJ plays the
next song; instead, they bow their heads next one another and are having a
discussion.

Probably about their failed attempt to get
Ben and me together, to rekindle and get married, and live happily ever after.
Then, I’d become a bigger doormat than I was before, and that’s only because I
would feel so guilty for putting the precious Ben into such a state for over
five months.

Ugh!

Perfect timing, the terrible twosome turn
around and I see their greedy eyes scouring the room for the criminal that is
me. I feel the sting of both their eyeballs when they finally locate my ass
sitting in the spot I’ve been in practically this entire evening.

They’re giving me the
death/poor-excuse-for-a-human-being glare; add a shake of the head and a roll
of the eye and they’re done. They give me their backs and return to their
friends to get jiggy with it, not wanting to let me ruin this fabulous evening
like I’ve always done in the past.

They aren’t going to let me win this time,
ruining their carefully laid plans is the last straw. I will no longer be
getting their careful attention.

I don’t deserve their time.

So inconsiderate and rude of me. Jesus,
why can’t I just open my eyes and see that I’m just so lucky to even have a
catch like Ben in my life? I mean, who else is going to see me like he does?

A prized possession, the rose of his
flower garden, the Earl Grey tea in his tea collection, when I’m really just an
Orange Pekoe, the store brand version, but I’m graciously being treated as if I
am Earl Grey. I should have considered that and appreciated it.

Um no!

Fuck them! I may be just the store-brand
version of Orange Pekoe in their eyes, but I know that I’m more than that. In
fact, I’m the store-brand version of Orange Pekoe that comes in a packet of
twenty, wrapped and rivaling prices of the top-selling tea in the aisle. So
suck on that, bitches!

My mouth feels parched, so I get up and go
to the bar for a Coke instead of a mixed drink. Whatever is left of the
evening, it’s in my best interest to remain as alert as possible.

“A Coke, please,” I order once I reach the
bar. I lean against the marble countertop as the bartender grabs a cup when I
think I hear someone whisper my name. I twist my neck toward the voice. I blink
once when I glance at the entrance doors and see Daniels’s head peeking through
from the hallway.

“Daniels?” I mouth, surprised at him as he
waves me over. I hold up a finger for him to wait a second while I turn and
grab my Coke from the bartender. Daniels nods and steps back into the hallway.
I quickly glance around the lively room, nervous that someone would see and
tattle. Daniels is a part of Xander’s world, a world where I don’t want anyone
here to know I have any involvement in.

That’s the last thing I’d need, the nosy
gossips of the crowd Mother ran around with to go and tattle to her that her
daughter is meandering with a strange man whom she had just met and trusted so
quickly.

It would be hunting season all over again,
with a barrage of wild and dumbfounded screeches about how much of an idiot I
am. I don’t need them to remind me of my faults. I do that well enough on my
own. So a quick glance around the room is an absolute must as I nonchalantly
make my way toward the exit.

No one is staring, or if they are, I don’t
notice, and will get it from them later.

Here’s hoping that won’t be the case. I
haven’t been back for a minute and I’m already getting shit about how much my
behavior needs fixing. I can only imagine the torture the next conversation or
scolding is going to be.

I bet they are salivating for the next
excuse they can use to tear me a new one. I shake off the nervous jitters as I
open the door enough that I can slide my way through without anyone noticing. I
enter the hallway and find Daniels waiting for me.

“Is everything okay, am I taking too
long?” I ask him worriedly.

“No everything is okay. I’m fine. It’s
just, Mr. Barns has been trying to contact you for the last half-an-hour, and
he’s called me to pass along a message, considering my near location.” Daniels
replies politely and professionally.

“He called you to come and tell me to pick
up my phone?” I ask him slowly, slightly bewildered.

Daniels stares at me for a few seconds, I
can literally see signs of apprehension pass over his face before he
straightens out, returning to his courteous professionalism.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Gellys, but if you can
just give him an answer, all will be okay again,” Daniels requests with a small
smile.

I nod. “Okay.”

“Alright, I’ll be going back out to the
car. Whenever you’re ready, just wave and I’ll see you from a spot I have right
next to the entrance; I’ll pull up right to the front,” Daniels says.

“Alright, thanks.” I nod once more, and
Daniels takes that as his cue to leave. As he turns around, I remember my
manners. “Hey – wait! Are you hungry? I feel so bad, you waiting in the car for
hours while I’m in here.”

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

Daniels nods. “I’ll be outside when you’re
ready.”

“Okay.” I watch him walk away and wish I
could just go with him, but the party still has a good couple of hours left in
it, and I know if I leave this early, it won’t go down well. I know I said
earlier - that I am prepared for anything they had for me - but honestly, right
now, I’m fucking exhausted from holding a shield up and pretending like what
they have to say doesn’t bother me.

Everything everyone does inside
that
room bothers me. The worst: Ben’s cheating hands having free rein over my back
as we danced. I wasn’t planning on being that close to him, like, for the rest
of my life.

Not after the way he had treated me.
Touching my body was a reward he did not deserve, but selfishly took without
bothering to ask me if it was okay.

I would have said no, or at least made up
a stupid reason why I couldn’t dance; but I was caught in a tough spot and had
no choice but to concede for that one brief moment.

Fuck, did I just prematurely wave the
white flag? There isn’t even a white flag ready and waiting for those people in
there. There is no plan to concede; there is however, a backbone ready and
waiting to smash their verbal warfare. They’re a team, an army, who’ve been
patiently awaiting my return whilst prepping for battle against my scorned
self.

The wounds are still healing from their
burns. I take a deep breath and slide the door open enough so that I can
squeeze my body through. The DJ keeps the dance theme going and begins blasting
a very loud track that has everyone excited and jumping all over the dance
floor.

That’s good, nobody noticed me leave. I
scoured the room for a few seconds as I make my way over to the table to get my
bag so I can see how many missed calls I’d received from Xander.

A.K.A that sneaky son-of-a-bitch who
doesn’t understand the concept of the word ‘No’. Whatever it is that he wants
from me later on, I think enough is enough. He’s gotten enough laughter from my
careless behavior, there needs to be no more of that. A simple way of making
sure things go my way for once, use the brain, trust instincts when they point
out random good looking sketchy dudes who take an interest in you, then declare
they have a fetish that you have no desire to be a part of.

So, yeah.

As I make my way toward my bag that I can
see sitting by itself at the kids’ table, from the corner of my eye a hand
flailing out catches me off guard. I turn my head and see Gwen and Mom
consoling an angry Ben. The music is too loud, I can’t hear a word. Right when
I reach the table, Mom catches me looking and gives Gwen a nudge. Their eyes
instantly set on me narrowing, while their injected lips do their version of a
snarl. Ben turns around to see what they are scowling at, and once he sees it’s
just little old me, he looks away and shakes his head. He then turns and walks
away while Gwen and Mom shout something at him with their arms out.

What is the princess-boy upset about now?
Is he upset about having to stay at the party when he could be out making out
with a specific short, red-headed slut?

I can see how that would make him angry; I
mean, it single-handily ruined our relationship of five years.

I turn my face right away as a small smile
threatens to break out, which is the last thing I need the people here to see;
me being happy would make them suspicious. I lean over the table and grab my clutch
when something in the air around me switches. I feel a certain danger
approaching, and my heart begins to beat faster.

Shit.

“Where were you just now?” Mom’s voice
screeches accusatorily, but not loud enough for any of her precious party
guests to hear her lose it. I slide the clutch underneath my pit and raise an
eyebrow.

Hold the fuck up, in that tone – yeah, I
don’t think so. I turn around, finding Mom and Gwen with the annoyed scowls on
their faces. Simultaneously, they fold their arms across their chests.

Oh Mother, you never will learn, will you?
You can’t talk to me like you did before. I suck in some air, getting the
motors running inside my passages; I’ve got a treat for them. Well, a treat for
me, punishment for them. What can I say? They should have known better.