The Love Interest

Chapter 11

"Closer!" Hayes demands with the assertive gesture of his hands. "She's not going to bite you- closer! Just a little bit more and- perfect, now..."

My ears must've filled with blood because they're no longer useful to detect authoritative words- or any words, for that matter. The sound of my heartbeat reverberating through my spine, up my neck, traveling into the depth of my useless ears- it was all some kind of sardonic joke I've been swooped up into.

Think about things you hate, Genevieve. Maybe dying puppies?

"Okay, I'm going to need you to kind of hold her against you-," a warm hand snaked it's way around my waist until the palm of his hand was heady and flatly pressed against the other side of my stomach, "yes, like that."

I remember reading about this scene between Elowen and Waylen. The imagery of reading it and living vicariously through Elowen's point of view had brought flush to my cheeks, making me re-read each line over and over again as if to commit the visualization to memory. I didn't think they'd incorporate this exact scene from the book into the romance series; the one I was starring in- but then again, I auditioned for this show knowing that, at some point, I'd have to be smitten with someone whether I liked it or not.

But the problem here wasn't that I didn't like it. It's that I did. A little too much.

The excerpt of the scene in the book goes a little like this: Elowen was standing in front of him one moment, a gauze ready in one hand, and a medicinal ointment in the other. She didn't know much about healing,- physically, at least- and she could tell by the contuse purpling beginning to form beneath his lidded eyes that she'd probably do something to screw up the bruise even more than she intended. It was her who gave it to him anyways- but who could blame her? He'd abruptly snuck up on her, hand clamping on her mouth from behind like the role play of an armed robbery- though the only thing he stole from her that night was her time- and my dignity, she thought as she brushes the tendrils of his brown hair back from his forehead leniently. Liked they'd been so charitable to each other this entire time.

Sitting at the foot of the bed, Waylen was finally shorter than her. He had to lift his head- only the slightest bit- to meet her eyes, but even so, she'd avert them, focusing them on the freckles that dotted the edges of his mouth. When she went to wipe the dried blood from his forehead with a hot cloth, she had to bend a little, grabbing the side of his face as an excuse to properly feel his cheek lean into her palm. That's when she felt his knees open up, offering her a place between them to stand while she tended his wounds like the lovelorn she was.

She doesn't take it. She couldn't possibly...no, that was too close. Too intimate. Too safe, yet so tempting and-

He does it for her as though he grew impatient of having to watch her lean forward to reach his face when it was more accessible if she was standing between his legs. His arm snakes around her waist, warming and gentle despite the thick shell of her corset preventing her from fully indulging in his touch. He then draws his arm back before using both hands to reach forward again, grabbing ahold of her waist, then pulling her into that empty space that she'd been counting the perimeter of in her brain.

So, here I was. Standing between Eden's- Waylen's legs, feeling his hands burn through the fabric of my shirt, and I fear if he took them away, there'd actually be a hand imprint of where his hands once were. His fingers travel beneath the hem of my shirt a little, and I realize it was because Hayes had advised Eden to do so. I wasn't wearing a corset the way Elowen was, and I can't help but hate myself for being relieved about that because now, I can feel his thumb caress the skin on the side of my stomach. Now, I can feel everything times infinity and some more.