- "I Understand Girls' Periodic Urges To Throw Themselves At Me."

Alarice DeVega is kissing me.

For the second time.

And I'm sitting like an idiot.

That thought kicks my brain into action, and then, I'm responding to the kiss.

She wraps an arm around my neck and pulls me closer, her fingers tightening on her grip in my hair. I groan at the pinpricks of pain in my scalp and let my hands trail down her shoulders to her hips, holding her firmly as I dart my tongue out and lick the seam of her lips, deliberately taking control. She moans lowly into my mouth, caressing my tongue with an expert stroke that sends a full-body shudder through me.

Yup, that's the kinda kiss I'm talking about.

She breaks away suddenly—her arms still around my neck—gasping for air.

Oh yeah, humans do need to breathe occasionally.

I raise a brow at her as I take in slow deep breaths, smirking slightly—unable to help myself.

"So, I'm the 'cuteness' huh?" I breathe, my hands tightening around her hips.

Heat colours her cheeks a delectable shade of pink.

"Who?" She asks, feigning innocence as she slowly removes herself from me, moving away slightly. "I didn't say that you were cute! I was just . . . " She gulps, looking away, as she scoots away further; forcing me to release my grip on her, "Just . . . "

"Just kissing me because you couldn't keep your hands off me?" I ask sarcastically, puckering my lips in a teasing manner.

Whoa! Way to be cocky, Anders.

Maybe the wine is slightly showing its effects...

She rolls her eyes in a blasé manner, trying to appear unruffled. "I kissed you because I saw a reporter. I didn't want her to recognise us." She lies fluidly, leaning forward and running her hand through the hair on the back of my head, smoothing down the strands that she tugged at so a few seconds ago.

"Oooh, and where might that reporter be, right now?" I needle, craning my neck as I peek over her both shoulders quickly, jumping up when she tries to block my view.

"She . . . Um, She's gone! That's why I pulled back!"

"Uh huh,"

"I'm not lying!" She protests vehemently, shaking her head.

"It's okay, baby. I know I'm irresistible. I understand girls' periodic urges to throw themselves at me," I wink, ignoring her jaw dropping in shock, as I calmly turn around and sip on my wine.

"You . . . You . . ." She struggles to come up with a creative word, and I grin.

"The big bad future-CEO doesn't know how to cuuuurse," I sing childishly, accepting the bill when a maître'd places a leather bound envelope-like thing on our table discretely, trying to not disturb us.

"Wow, Alarice. You gonna pay this much for me? I think you're getting me all wined up, because you're planning to deflower me tonight." I state brazenly, rolling my eyes at the huge bill with too many zeroes as I close the leather envelope-thingy back.

Alarice splutters on her wine, coughing violently as the drink flows through the wrong passage. I face palm and quickly give hard taps on her head, trying to help as I grab a few tissues from the neatly designed arrangement of wipes in the middle of the wooden table.

She coughs a few more times before slowly calming down, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she sizes me up.

"And what if I am?"

"Oh," I say, because I did not expect that reply.

She smirks, thinking that I won't have a comeback to that one.

"Let's just say, I'll be a happy man."

Alarice face-palms, muttering something about the Goddess hating her as she takes a big swig of her wine, waving the man over for a refill.

I chuckle, taking a sip of mine as well.

•••

I wake up the next morning with a pounding headache, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, when I open my eyes.

Crap, I drank a lot. Again.

Only this time, I don't wake up alone.

A beautiful, smiling angel is sitting next to me.

I rub my eyes sleepily, trying to not to move my head at all.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Alarice chirrups loudly, making me squeeze my eyes shut as my hand flies to my head, rubbing at my temples.

"Please...don't freaking scream." I rasp, my eyes still closed.

"Oops." I hear a sound like she's slapping her forehead and then she whispers. "I'm sorry."

I slowly open my eyes, applying more pressure to the sides of my head.

Alarice looks anxious. She's fisting her hands at her sides, looking like she so badly wants to do something that I wouldn't like.

"Um, what's wrong?" I ask after a few moments, when the pressure behind my eyelids and the throbbing in my temple subside slowly.

"Uh, it's nothing." Alarice says quickly, shaking her head when she realizes that I noticed her sudden anxiety.

"No, tell me." I insist, prodding further.

"I wanted to give you a massage, but fine, whatever." She waves her hands dismissively, rolling her eyes for good measure, as if the idea itself is ridiculous.

I scrunch my brows together, confused. "And what's stopping you?"

"Nah. I don't want to ever have a repeat of that feeling." She shakes her head, smiling a huge arse forced grin.

"That feeling?"

"That feeling when you slapped my hand away." She shivers slightly at the mention, and then shrugs her shoulders, masking her feelings in a heartbeat.

I feel like I was punched in my gut.

I had hurt her that day. And I don't know why, but I freaking hate knowing it.

"I'm so sorry," I apologize quickly, feeling overwhelming guilt envelope me and prick my skin with an uneasy feeling.

"Hey, it wasn't your fault." She says with yet another easy smile, and just then, my slow brain comes to one huge conclusion.

Alarice smiles to hide her feelings.

She smiles all the damn time, but sometimes, her smiles are full of hidden hurt and pain.

That's another sucker punch to my heart.

Because the hardest thing about pain is that hiding it from the person who brought it to you. And to smile in such a situation...

It would tear a person apart.

I move forward and wrap my arms around her, crushing her in a bear hug

She squeaks in surprise, falling forward and crashing into my chest when I pull her close, laughing slightly as she accepts my hug, tightening her arms around my neck.

Man, this girl is really strong.

"No, Alarice. I'm so sorry." I mumble into her hair, burying my nose into her silken chocolate curls.

Her delectable scent assaults my nostrils, making him inhale loudly.

Hm, feels so familiar...

Alarice giggles at my antics.

I ignore her giggling and take another deep breath—because, c'mon, compared to her weird and cringe-worthy activities, you know this is nothing—taking in her sweetly addictive smell. The unique scent nags at something at the corner of my brain, making me feel like there's something that I should know, but I'm oblivious to it.

"Hey!" Alarice pulls back suddenly, grinning wide, "I forgot to tell you!"

"What?" I ask, suddenly suspicious.

"Our dance instructor is here!"'

Crap, annnnnnnd crazy kidnapper Alarice is back.

•••