Shut Up and Kiss Me (24 page)

“
Mila..? Mila?”

“
I’m here,” I whispered, still glancing around. “I dropped my phone.”

“
Everything okay?” Will asked.

No, everything was definitely not okay. Either my paranoia was driving me slowly insane or I was actually being watched. I couldn’t just be imagining it, could I? The feeling had been there all day, hanging heavy over my head like a raincloud waiting to burst.

Suddenly I wanted to run back to work, to the restaurant, to where there were people—people who knew me. To be here, alone, in the middle of sidewalk, who would notice if a car were to pull up and snatch me away? No one would notice. No one would care.

“
Mila?”

Mentally shaking myself from my morbid thoughts, I started walking again. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m here. I’m fine.”

“
Are you sure?” he asked, his tone thick with worry. “You sounded…” He trailed off, and I grimaced. However much progress we’d made in our relationship by professing our love to one other, we’d also regressed when I’d decided not to tell him the truth about me.

I had to fix it and hope that he would forgive me—forgive me for my lies, for my past, and for what was to come if my past ever caught up to me.

“
Have I told you lately how much I love the dress?” I said, hoping I came across as flirty and teasing rather than the anxious way I was feeling.

“
Only seven hundred or so times,” he laughed.

The dress had been delivered the day before, an absolutely stunning gown and a perfect fit. I’d been shocked, not only that he’d known my size, but that he’d handpicked a dress I would have chosen myself.

“
Well I do,” I said. “It’s gorgeous. You didn’t have to.”

“
I did,” he insisted. “Beautiful things for beautiful girls, you know.”

“
You’re too good to me,” I said softly, squeezing my eyes shut momentarily. God, he deserved better than me, and far better than this awful situation I was involving him in.

“
See you tonight?”

“
Of course.” I murmured, “Goodbye.”

Hanging up, I slipped my phone back in my purse and picked up my pace, both wishing that I hadn’t answered his phone call and glad that I had.

Along with the awful feeling that I was being followed, I couldn’t help but think that maybe I was losing Will—losing us, before we had even really begun. I half wished the night was already over and all my secrets had already been revealed. Yet, speaking to him had also calmed me. There was just something about Will; he soothed my soul and made me forget the things I feared most. Even if just for a moment.

Struggling with the finishing touches on his silk bow tie—he’d never liked those damn things—Will glared at his reflection in the mirror. He was nervous—too nervous for his liking, unused to caring how his parents felt about his decisions.

But this was different, because Mila was different. She was important, and because she was important, he was nervous. No, he was damn near twitching with anxiety.

They could ruin everything for him—his family—with one scathing look or a few demeaning words, and Mila could decide that he wasn’t worth the headache and the heartache. Will knew that Mila wasn’t the superficial type, yet… how much abuse could one person take before they ran for the hills?

Which led him to another worry: Mila running for the hills. She was prone to running, he’d already figured that much out. Shaking his head, he cursed himself under his breath. He wasn’t going to do this tonight; he wasn’t going to stress about what had already happened. He had enough to worry about as it was, because where his family was concerned, everything could go wrong.

Finished with his bow tie, he leaned over his dresser and bared his teeth, giving them one last inspection before running his hand haphazardly through his hair. Then he paused, staring at himself, his eyes slightly widening.

Then he burst out laughing.

“
Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. He was behaving like a woman. Falling for Mila had made him a woman, fretting around, worrying far more than he ever had. Love was turning him into a bumbling idiot—one with a nervous stomach, and who mumbled to himself in the mirror.

Worst-case scenario, his family would be awful to her. He’d either find himself telling off his sister or knocking out one of his brothers. Both would create a scene that his family would find unforgivable, and his family would cut him out of their lives forevermore.

Oddly enough, that very outcome didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should have. True, he loved his family, even his vicious sister, but that was more from familial obligation than anything else. His father and he were already at odds, but his mother… As overbearing and ridiculous as she could be, she was still his mother. So in reality, while being ostracized from his family might seem for the best, in the long run it would hurt him.

“
Fingers crossed,” he said to his reflection, “that everyone makes it through tonight unscathed.”

Turning toward his doorway, he began crossing his bedroom, scooping his tuxedo jacket off the chaise on the way out.

“
Shoes,” Richard said, joining him in the foyer.

Will glanced down at his feet. “Why? What’s wrong with my sneakers?”

Thirty minutes later Richard was pulling up in front of Mila’s apartment building and Will, having just stepped out of the car, his hand still on the door handle, watched as the front door to her building pushed open.

The gown he’d chosen was a figure-hugging, full-length nude, with a halter neckline and an open back, glimmered under the glow of the streetlights, glowing perfectly against Mila’s lightly bronzed skin. Two small gold hoops dangled from her ears, while she held tightly to a tiny white wristlet.

Her hair was down, her natural waves styled into thick curls that hung heavy down her back and perfectly framed her heart-shaped face. She was wearing far more makeup than he’d ever seen her wear before—Nikki’s doing, he mused, noting the smoky eyes and wine-colored lips. And though she looked beautiful no matter what—even after just waking, her hair a mess, her makeup smeared—at this very moment he’d never seen anything more beautiful than her.

Watching her descend the stairs, Will felt his anxiety melt away. All that had happened in the past week and all that might yet happen tonight… It didn’t matter.

She was the one.

She was…
the one.

Will smiled up at
me, the sort of smile that was exclusive and reserved only for special moments. The sort of smile you see in films, and read about in great novels. He smiled at me like I was the only one there, and in return I beamed down at him. All the worry I had been drowning in all day, the strain of the past few days, it all drifted away.

He met me halfway down the steps, holding out his hand for me, and I took it with a shy smile. He looked handsome, almost beautifully so beneath the setting sun in the background, the orange glows highlighting his unruly blond hair. He’d shaved, and the square set of his jaw was visible, making me want to run my hand across it, lean in and kiss his mouth.

“
Mila, you look—” He gave his head a little shake and swallowed, seeming almost nervous. “You look breathtaking.”

I beamed under the compliment. “You look pretty good yourself,” I said coyly.

Stepping into my space, Will brought his body flush against mine. Placing a hand on my lower back, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to my lips. I kissed him back fervently, losing myself to him, to this kiss and to everything that he was making me feel.

Someone cleared their throat behind us, and I pulled away sharply, glancing over his shoulder to find Richard grinning at us. Laughing, I clasped a hand over my mouth only to instantly drop it, worrying about my lipstick.

Will starting laughing. “It’s still perfect,” he said, “like you.”

He guided me toward the car where Richard was waiting, holding the door open.

“
Richard,” Will said, waving him off to hold the door open for me himself.

I slid in, and he climbed in after me before pulling the door shut behind us.

As we started down the street, I focused on Will: his proximity, the smell of his cologne, his startlingly blue eyes staring at me with such an insatiable desire that my already unsteady heart began beating faster.

“
You’re going to have to stop staring sooner or later,” I said, grinning.

“
Why?” he asked, raising his brow in question and smirking. “I like the view.”

Fighting a smile, I looked away and we fell into a contented and comfortable silence. The next several minutes passed by in a blur of buildings and streetlights while I tried to think only of tonight. Will would know the truth soon enough; I would divulge everything to him, every horrible detail, and once he knew the truth, and if he accepted me for who I really was, maybe I could finally learn to live again. Not just exist, but live—really and truly.

Breaking the silence, Will cleared his throat and captured my attention. “So I should probably fill you in on my family,” he said, looking uncomfortable.

His family. I feared meeting them almost as much as I feared telling Will the truth. To be honest, after Will had told me how they would react to me, I could have quite happily forgone meeting them forever. Yet it seemed important to him—how could I deny him this small thing? And regardless of how much he warned me of them, how bad could they really be? What kind of person would look down on another person simply because of their profession or finances? Or in my case, lack of finances.

“
I’ll apologize in advance,” he continued. “They’re…how do I put this?” Running his hand through his hair, he let out a long, suffering sigh and shrugged helplessly. “They’re assholes.”

In front, Richard barked out a laugh. “That’s putting it mildly,” he muttered.

Snorting, I shook my head, only to find that Will wasn’t laughing. He was watching me, his features pinched with worry.

“
What is it?” I asked, taking his hand in mine.

“
I want them to be nice to you,” he muttered.

“
Me too,” I said, laughing.

Looking away, he shifted in his seat. “My family, they tend to marry other—”

“
Whoa there,” I said, “who said anything about marriage?”

Again Richard laughed, causing Will’s cheeks to flush.

“
No,” he started, and dragged a hand down his face. “No, I didn’t mean—”

I laughed softly. “I know what you meant. And I get it: your family won’t approve of me because…well, because I don’t meet their standards. I get it, but Will, I’m not here for them. I’m here for you.”

And I meant what I said. I was there for Will, not his family. His family, as much as I hoped they’d like me, didn’t concern me. What concerned me was how Will would react if his family was truly as bad as he was making them out to be. If they disapproved of me…would he?

Lifting my hand to his mouth, Will placed several soft kisses on my knuckles. “I adore you,” he said, smiling.

“
We’re here,” Richard announced, and we both turned toward the window. Richard had just turned down a long, winding path, the gallery seated proudly at the end of it. Seeing other cars in the distance, the many people, the cameras flashing, the expense, the sheer luxury of everything…a shiver snaked up the back of my neck.

“
Are you cold?” he asked.

I shook my head no and he smiled.

We pulled up in front of the large stone steps, a red carpet draped atop them and tuxedo-clad waiters standing on either side. The door opened and Will stepped out first, and then reached for me. Grasping his hand, I took a steadying breath, feeling sick, all my confident words from only moments ago flying out the proverbial window.

“
Hey,” Will said softly. Cupping my chin, he gently lifted my face.

I looked up into his eyes, finding him smiling at me as if we had all the time in the world, as if I wasn’t about to meet his family and be shunned and shamed in front of an entire gathering of the rich and famous.

“
We can leave,” he said softly. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.”