Chapter 27 - Hello, John

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I nervously check my watch and run my finger over my lips to smooth out lip gloss. Better. I glance down at my finger and notice a smudge of pink left on my finger. Not so smooth. I hastily grab a nearby towel and wipe off the offending smear. Perfect.

I take a look at myself in the mirror, pleased with the outcome. A light layer of coppery shadow dances across my lids, highlighting my blue-green eyes, complimented by an obvious but not obnoxious layer of mascara. I forgo my usual dark eyeliner sex bomb routine, aiming for a more relaxed look for our cozy night in. My outfit consists of a pair of leggings and my baggy but cute Metric tank top, a prized fave I got when I saw them in concert. I have serious girl crush on Emily Haines, and I'm hoping she'll bring me luck.

Tucked underneath the outfit is a comfortable but super adorable set of undergarments. Forever the optimist. A girl has to hope, right? Our recently heated exchange has left me feeling excited about the potential the burgeoning evening holds. But I'm also looking forward to having his arms around me once more, pulling me close.

God, it feels like forever since I've seen Lou.

I grab my contact lens case, glasses, and toothbrush before shoving them into the bottom of my large, but not oversized, purse. Also included is a clean pair of undos, brush, mascara, and phone charger. Practical optimist. The purse is handmade by a local Toronto artist, and another cherished favourite. It's cute and holds tons, but not obviously so. Probably good, considering that I don't want to appear that I'm trying to move in with Lou on the first night he's invited me to his place. Seriously.

The last few days have really helped me gain some necessary perspective. Navigating the waters of a relationship with Louis might get complicated. I wasn't expecting to land myself in something high profile, and I want to help him stay under the radar in Toronto. It's important to him, and therefore important to me. And if things are going to work out, I need to just slow my roll a bit when it comes to what I am thinking and feeling. Or filter at least, and take my time with it all.

I glance at my watch once more. Oops! Better head outside. I step into my cutest flip flops. Skinny silver braids attached to black soles. I love the way the straps sit at the base of my toes making my feet look sexy. Especially important because I splurged on a pedicure today and I want to show of my fancy toes. Or maybe play some more footsie!

Standing on my stoop, I take a minute to appreciate the warm summer breeze and how it feels on my skin. A few strands of my hair tickle my face, and I tuck them back in to place. I look up and watch the wind rustle the broad leaves of the maple trees cover the street. The street light emits a soft yellow glow that cascades through the foliage to create dancing shadows on the still warm pavement. The air feels smooth, cool and full of promise. Toronto is beautiful on nights like this.

A sleek black car pulls up the street. I'm about to step back and watch it pass when it slows and comes to a stop in front of me. Maybe I should have stepped out in my (imaginary) Manolos and fur coat because this feels too Carrie Bradshaw to be real. I resist the urge to twirl and cock my head to the side. Rather, I smile as I watch a familiar pair of eyes come in to view as the window rolls down.

"Good evening, Mr. Big. Are you here to whisk me away for a night of fun?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely!" says the disembodied voice emanating from the vehicle. A small frisson of excitement ripples down my body in response to the inflection. Hot damn! The door opens, and I slip in to the car.

Louis.

"Hi, luv."

"Hi," I reply shyly. I glance at the driver, unsure of the protocol of what to do in this kind of situation. It's not like I keep a private car service in my back pocket. I want to give Louis a kiss as a part of my greeting, but it seems a little strange to do so in front of a chauffeur. It's not like he's signed on for weird crap like cab drivers. Right?

Sensing my hesitation, Louis gently reaches for my hand. He pulls my purse off my shoulder, and tucks it on the floor at my feet. Next, he tugs lightly at my leggings, indicating that I should shuffle over and sit closer to him. I oblige before buckling myself in. When I'm finished, I sink in to Louis' shoulder. He lets me settle before thumbing my chin upwards towards his. He plants a slow, sensual kiss on my lips. The electricity is immediate and overwhelming.

I am swept away by the sensation of his mouth moving on mine. He smells amazing, despite hours of travel, as if his pheromones have been perfectly tailored to wet my panties. He tastes sweet and vaguely of mint. The rush of feeling is so compelling, it takes all my effort to pull away, breathless and unable to focus.

"Better," murmurs Louis.

"Welcome back," I whisper.

We spend rest of the drive in silence. The air between up seems to crackle with sexual tension. Louis keeps my hand tucked in his, running his thumb over the length of my fingers. The tingles radiate to every part of my body. I am hyper aware of everything, and judging by the slight squirming of Louis hips, I know he is feeling the same way.

I don't even pay attention to where we are going, I just let the motion of the car propel me towards time alone with Louis. With each turn, the energy in the car increases, until it is almost palpable. The car finally stops in front a large, modern looking house tucked away in on a street in Rosedale. It's huge and probably cost more than my tuition to rent. Oh my god!

"Lou, this is where you are staying?"

"Yeah, you like it?"

"I'm afraid I will break it if I stare too hard," I stammer as I start to unbuckle my seat belt.

Louis laughs. That magical sound is music to my ears. He sees me struggling with the buckle, and leans forward to help me. His fingers linger on my hips, and I inhale sharply. I press my hand on top of his, encouraging the touch, my chest rising and falling quickly. Lou releases the buckle and runs his hand up my back to push my hair off the back of my neck.

"You look beautiful," he whispers. The cool feeling of his breath on my skin gives me shivers, and I can't respond. "Inside."

Now free, I nod, grab my purse and practically stumble out of the car. Trying to keep my composure, I smile at the driver as he opens the door. He smiles back politely. I only hope the flush of my face is camouflaged by the dim outside light. Louis comes around the other side of the car and places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me forward.

"Thank you, John. Just place the bags in the foyer and we'll do the rest."

I let Louis guide me up the stairs to the door of the house. My palms are sweating, and the nerves are back. This is it! We get to be alone. Oh my God. Wait. Do we? Better check.

"Have you ditched your roomie too?"

"Harry said he was taking a later flight."

"Oh, he was in L.A. too?"

"Yeah, we kinda come as a package deal."

"Right, the One D, thing."

"Exactly."

"Well, can't say I'm disappointed."

Louis raises his brows, "Yeah, luv. Why's that?"

"Your ass is mine, Tommo."

"Gladly."

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