Her house is full of people decorating and moving stuff around, but she's no where in sight.

No one questions my place in any of this, so I wander off toward the stairs.

There you are.

I smile before I realize she's pouting.

Maybe flowers weren't a good idea...

"Happy birthday?"

"No," Heather walks down the steps to meet me.

"What's wrong?"

"Look," she motions toward all of the running around.

"Looks like you're having a party."

"Exactly," Heather says sadly. "But...that's nice, I guess."

"It's not what you wanted though..."

She continues to pout, "I don't want you to think I'm spoiled."

I smirk, "I already think you're spoiled."

She jokingly rolls her eyes, and I pull her in for a hug.

"Thank you for the flowers."

"Don't mention it."

Her arms are still around me as she takes a step back. "It's still early, so we can just go to my room and make out until later."

"I like that plan."

We head up the stairs, and I glance down at the progress being made.

This will be the most elegant rager ever thrown.

We get to her room, and I take off my shoes and jacket before sitting at the end of the bed. She puts the flowers down on the dresser and turns to me.

"Cheer up, yeah?" I grab her waist to bring her to me, and she nods and smiles the closer our lips get.

Her hands rest on my shoulders while she climbs onto me. There's a moment of quiet...a few seconds of sheer admiration before we finally went in for the steal. I like that kissing her feels like breathing in after holding your breath for a while.

I fall against the bed with my arms wrapped around her. My fingers trailed down her sides, she's wearing a pretty dress that's loose enough on her body for her to straddle me. Thats one of my favorite things because I know if I hold her waist and press down enough I'll get a moan out of her.

Her tongue slips past my lips, and she holds my face in her hand while kissing me— somewhere between gentle and a clothes-off kind of way.

I groan and hold her tighter against me, drawing back to see her face.

We brush noses before she tries to connect our lips again— and I pull away a bit every time we come close enough to kiss. She pouts and I give in, smiling at how little she likes to be teased but how much I like to tease her.

I'd say that makes us perfect for each other.

Loud dance music echos throughout the house, and Heather whines in disappointment.

"This is ridiculous."

I laugh, "Do you want to leave now?"

"We should...watching this all get put together is going to make me crazy."

"Why didn't you want a big party? Sounds cool."

"I have a big party every year— and it's always fun for everyone except me. It makes my parents feel good about themselves because people think 'well, they must be great, look at what they did for their daughter,' it's draining."

"Make them stop."

"I'd have to do something crazy," she shakes her head.

"Something crazy for Heather."

"Well...maybe you should invite some of your friends. The guys from school, plus Matt, Zach, and Amanda."

"Mm, I don't know, butterfly."

"Why not?"

"I'd invite them if I thought you actually wanted them here, but you've just got it in for your parents. It's like when you made me go to that lunch thing Trevor had."

"You didn't like it?"

I scoff, "You're joking, right?"

"Yes..." Heather sighs, and then lays down on me with her arm across my chest.

"Besides, if I invited them, I'd have to babysit them all night, and I wouldn't get to be with you."

Heather nods and snuggles closer.

"You're warm," she says softly.

"Your lips are by my neck. I'm blushing."

Zach walks along the pavement and jumps back when I swerve in next to him.

"Where you going?"

"To the store," he shrugs.

"Get in the van."

"Do you see how this looks? You driving up next to me and saying 'get in the van.'"

"Zach-"

"Wow," he said loudly, "Did I hear you have candy, mister?"

This fucking guy.

I shake my head and check my mirrors for any concerned street walkers, "good one."

He laughs as he climbs into the passenger seat. "Yeah, I know."

"Where've you been? You too cool for us all of a sudden?"

"No, everybody's-"

"Matter of fact, you too cool for me now? Because I'm the only one out of the loop."

"What loop?"

"I don't know. Whatever the hell Matt and Leo know that I don't know."

"Oh," he says and then chuckles while looking off to the side.

"What?"

"I think I like it better when people figure it out on their own."

"Figure what out?"

"Uh-"

"Alright, fine, give me a hint."

"Okay," Zach nods and starts to think. "Your uncle."

"My uncle?"

"The one in that picture. The one Matt called-"

I sigh in annoyance, "he's not gay."

"He's not."

"That's what I said. You got plugs in your ears or somethin- oh...Oh, shit."

He nods, "yep."

I scoff offendedly, "so, why am I the last to know?"

"You didn't figure it out."

"And Matt did? You want me to believe he put his mind to it."

He laughs and shakes his head. "It was easier for him since we go to the same school."

"Chester," I sigh, "sounds pretty good now."

"Because of Val?"

"No? Maybe? I don't fucking know," I take a deep breath. "She seeing somebody?"

He shrugs, "don't think so."

"So, what up with the Evan guy? You two doing it?"

I scoff, "No."

"Why'd you say it like that?"

"Because...we're not. We had a thing, but it's over."

"A thing?"

"The world record for shortest relationship."

"Mm," I nod, "fuck him."

"Well, no— we're friends still."

"Yeah, right."

"What?"

"People who say you can be friends with someone after you dated are liars. You can't be friends unless you didn't care about them the way you were supposed to."

"But you're friends with Val..."

"Friends."

"What's this meeting for?" Elizabeth whispers to me as we approach the table.

"Money."

"Don't you already have that?"

"Yes, but it's more fun spending someone else's."

"You must be Mr. Carey, how ya doin'?"

"Mr. Buchanon," we shake hands, "please, call me Ethan."

"In that case, call me Bart," he replies and motions behind him, "This is Mitch Buchanon, co-founder of Buchanon Brothers Blended Scotch."

"Of course, It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure is all mine," Mitch says while looking at Elizabeth instead. "And who's this pretty little lady?"

"Liz," she reaches her hand out, and he bows down to kiss it.

"...Let's get started, shall we?"

"Yes," Bart moves back to his seat leaving the rest of us to follow suit. "The lawyers have been talkin', and we've been listenin', and your place gets a real crowd, don't it?"

"Yes, it's becoming a big attraction. I knew it would be."

Mitch raises his eyebrows up and down at Elizabeth, "I'm guessing you're the real money maker behind the operation."

Her hand touches my thigh— quite high up.

"So-" I clear my throat, "we have a bar upfront, and it is stocked for the daytime customers, but the bar in the back gets the most action, and of course we have alcohol flowing throughout the building— people don't even realize how much they're spending because they're just taking drinks off of trays."

"And you can give them a taste of our scotch..." Bart nods.

"And advertise the name, which we're not doing with any other brand currently."

"You ever been down to Tennessee?" Mitch says to Elizabeth.

"Is that a line?" She raises an eyebrow.

"No," Mitch chuckled, "I don't use lines. Beating around the bush ain't really my style, sweetheart."

"Then, no, I've never been."

"Bart and I have been trying to get the market in the East, y'all don't drink as much as us southerners."

"We do— but brand name," I speak up.

"And you will make a brand out of our name?" Bart asks.

"How many cases do you want to start with?"

"What do you say five, and if it sells like you say it will sell, I'll give you 20 faster than you can blink."

"We have a deal."

"A good one too," Mitch smiles...at Elizabeth—

And she further creeps her hand to something that shouldn't be touched right now.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"Go find a waiter and get us water for the table, please."

She takes that as a challenge, I can tell by the expression on her face. She waves down a server and simply mouths for him to bring water.

Well played.

I narrow my eyes at her.

"If you don't mind me saying, you look awfully young to be running this kind of business," Bart mentions.

"I get that a lot."

"Ethan is much older than you think," Elizabeth says slyly, almost insultingly.

"Is that right, doll?" Mitch questions. "How old do you think I am?"

Too damn old to be flirting with her.

"I'm not sure."

"Old enough to show you some new tricks, I'll tell you that."

"Mm," she nods with a close-mouthed laugh, and her hand travels over to the zipper of my pants.

"If we're in agreement, why don't we just sign this contract and get out of each other's hair, yes?" I take the contracts out of my folder.

"Eager aren't we?" Bart laughs.

"The faster we make a profit, the faster we can spend it."

"Oh, what the hell?" He shrugs, "no risk, no reward. Give me the papers."

"It's in my sincerest belief that this will be great for all of us."

"You don't have to convince me," Mitch winks at Elizabeth, and she full on gropes me through my pants.

"Ah— uh, I hate to rush out of here so quickly, but I do have another meeting to make it to. Can we put celebratory drinks on the books?"

"We're here for a few more days," Bart nods, passing the contracts to Mitch one by one.

"This ain't no kind of weather for us, though," Mitch adds.

"Nothing a stiff drink can't fix," I laugh halfheartedly.

"Very stiff," Elizabeth smirks.

I clear my throat, "thank you, Bart, Mitch, I look forward to working with you both."

"Likewise, partner."

Partner. What an embarrassing overstatement.

Mitch hands the contracts back, and I slide them into the folder again before standing up— putting the folder over my crotch, of course, because Elizabeth is so going to get it.

"Until next time, gentlemen." Another overstatement.

Elizabeth walks ahead of me, opening her own doors and not even waiting for the driver to let her into the backseat.

I'd like to get to the bottom of this.

"Explain yourself," I say after the door shuts.

"Hm?"

"Hm? What possessed you to try to ruin an arrangement I just stressed the importance of? Have you no professionalism?"

She scoffs, "I didn't think I needed any since your business partners weren't very professional. And you just sat there and let him say all of those things to me."

"I sat there and let him sign away most of their profits for pocket change."

She shrugs and turns away, obviously finding nothing wrong with her actions.

Okay, Elizabeth.

I put the limo divider up halfway so that only our faces can be seen by the driver.

She glances at what I've done but thinks nothing of it

Until I turn her legs toward me and spread them.

Elizabeth gasps and watches as my hand reaches up her dress to pull down her panties.

There's a look of shock and annoyance but a lack of resistance because you, Elizabeth, are salacious.

I push her dress further up so that my hand can sit comfortably between her thighs, and she opens them even wider when I start brushing over her lightly.

My eyes keep looking ahead, and she turns her gaze away to make us as inconspicuous as possible while my fingers draw circles on her clit.

Her legs close a bit at the direct stimulation, and it fends me off enough not to have her screaming in the back of this limo. But, with your gasps and squirming— just imagine how this would be if your legs were tied open.

The thought of it acts as a shot of adrenaline, and I start to move faster, coaxing her to the brink, and she holds back her moans the more I urge her body to let go.

A string of short breaths pass her lips and she leans her head back while holding my hand down on her, desperately chasing the orgasm promised to her if I keep rubbing her aching clit. Her fingers start to dig into my wrist, and I know she's right there— so, I pull away.

Elizabeth looks at me astonished, but I pretend not to notice as I clean my hand off on my pocket square.

"You didn't think I'd let you finish, did you? Not after you teased me through my entire meeting."

She wants to argue but knows it will only make it worse.

"I'm sorry."

I bet you are.

Her eyes wander down my body to the obvious tent in my pants.

Yes, that's because of you.

"Did you want something?" I ask.

She shifts her gaze back and forth from my face to my rigidness.

I let out a breathy chuckle before fully raising the partition window— and she lowers my zipper.

We work my pants down until she's holding my dick in her hand. I'm leaking precum like I haven't gotten off in months.

Her warm breath hits the tip of my cock and I ball my fists up to keep my composure.

Elizabeth turns so that our eyes lock...then she lowers her head, not shifting her gaze as her tongue traces a vein up the side.

You make me believe in God.

"Excuse me, sorry, thank you," I say as I carefully tread down the aisle to get to my seat.

Good, you're already here.

"Alison?" Alex says in surprise when I sit next to him.

"Alex?" I say in shock, "what are you doing here? I never pictured you as a ballet lover."

"I'm not, but the ticket was a gift," he sighs, "I didn't know who from...until now."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," I smile slyly and look ahead.

"Alison, do you remember that talk we had? The one where I told you nothing was going to happen between us?"

"In school, yes, but we're not in school. And, I promise I won't do anything there to make this obvious. Again, I'm sorry about the Valentine's gifts, this is supposed to make up for it."

"You don't seem to be understanding me."

"No, I am, Alex. That's why we're here, in the dark...alone."

He waves his hands in denial, "We're not here together."

"No one would suspect we are."

"Oh, my god," he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I'm back," a lady sinks down into the seat on the other side of him, "you would not believe those lines."

"Jocelyn," Alex breathes out.

"Jocelyn?"

"Um— this is one of my students," he fidgets nervously.

"I'm Alison, who are you?"

She laughs condescendingly, "My...Alex, I think someone has a little crush."

"Excuse me?" I glare.

"Yes, we were discussing that," he replies to her like I'm not apart of this.

"It's cute." Jocelyn leans forward to speak to me, "honestly adorable. Sweetie, I've been right where you are. Trust me, this one was hard to catch."

"You're dating...you're on a date...with him."

"Yes..."

I face him with a scowl, "You took the ticket I gave you...and bought another one for Jocelyn?"

"I wouldn't have accepted the ticket if I knew it was from you."

"You know what? Can you give me a minute?" I say rhetorically as I stand to my feet.

"Sure," Jocelyn replies as if anyone was ever speaking to her.

"Great," I roll my eyes and start walking off.

"Take your time."

Bitch.

"Leonardo," Mr. Krakowski smiles, "have you come to visit me?"

"Yeah, I wanted you to meet someone," I pull Heather to my side.

"Oh, Hello!" He says enthusiastically. "I remember you."

"Hi, I'm Heather," she smiles while shaking his hand.

"She's my Eleana."

Mr. Krakowski gasps, "you're sure, Leonardo?"

"I am."

"Come in, come in."

"Who's Eleana?" Heather whispers to me, and I wink in response. A story for another day, butterfly.

"Your mother must be so happy you are with such a nice young lady," Krakowski fawns.

"She doesn't know yet. I'm working on that, but you know how she gets."

"I see, then. Don't worry my lips are sealed," he pretends to zip them up.

"It's Heather's birthday by the way."

"Happy birthday!"

"Thank you."

"I'm ill prepared," he sighs, "no cookies, but I can come up with something."

"Oh, no, that's not necessary-"

"I insist," Krakowski says sternly. He goes over to a shelf but keeps his back turned so that we can't see what he'll unveil. When he returns to Heather, he takes her hand and drops a few coins into it. "I want you to buy yourself some taffy and anything else you have your eye on."

"Wow, I don't know what to say." Anything...just don't laugh. "You're too kind."

"I knew you'd get along," I pat her shoulder. "Stay here and talk— I don't want you to see your gift yet."

"I thought I told you not to get me anything."

"You did."

"Leonardo is very crafty," he puts his hands on his hips. "Come, we will have tea while we wait."

"Oh, okay? Sure."

It feels like I'm witnessing Heather meet her first old person. They probably get mummified after reaching 50 on the upper east side.

I wave 'goodbye' to both of them before going next door to my place.

Even before getting in a real relationship I knew that "don't get me a present" meant "definitely get me a present."

Plus, I don't want her to think I can't.

I reach under my bed and pull out a bag. Everything I own gets stored in the closet or under my bed for safety.

Fragile items especially...

I open the bag and pull out the gift.

"Leo?" My mom stops at my door, "I didn't know you were home."

"I'm not actually, I just had to grab something."

She points to the snow globe in my hand, "...is that for your girlfriend?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because there are little hearts in it, and you're not giving it to me."

Okay, you caught me.

"It's her birthday."

"Oh, is it now?"

"Mhm," I drop it back in the bag.

She stands there eyeing me and my gift like we're a crooked painting she wants to straighten.

"Hang on a minute."

A minute is all I have before Mr. Krakowski breaks out the war stories on Heather.

My mom goes into her room and comes out with a pink, glass bottle of perfume.

"What are you doing?"