The Wedding Issue

Chapter Fifteen - Taking Chances

I was used to men looking, no gawking, at me all the time. Most of the time I disregarded it as a primal, hormonal disposition that all men are seemingly born with. It was in their nature and they willingly cultivated it. I shrugged it off. I barely indulged into it unless I found the man mildly attractive. It would be a momentary fling and it would pass the next morning. Nothing serious. Barely a fantasy. But the way Killian was looking at me made me want to reconsider my jurisdictions. It was like he was patiently yet eagerly peeling off the layers of skin on my body, and not in a sexual way. He was looking beyond my body and trying to peer into my soul. It was unnerving, but I couldn't find a way to stop him. I didn't even bother trying. I almost welcomed the invasion with open arms, which was quiet out of character of me. It bothered me yet I couldn't shake the feeling that he had every right to do it; like it was some rite of passage to eventually get to me.

I was letting my guard down way more than usual around Killian. There was a certain feeling of safety that I felt around him that I couldn't quite fathom. Mostly because it was unlike anything I've ever felt before, and greatly because it fascinated the hope-filled, dreamy-eyed girl that I protectively kept hidden. He appealed to both of us, and that was why it was so easy for me to allow him to shed my thick skin. He was studying me, learning what he needed to learn about me, and something told me that this could end with a whirlwind of emotions – and I wasn't sure what kind.

Talking to him was easy. It was natural. He was a great listener, which any woman would say was practically impossible to find in a man. But he was. He validated my feelings like no man ever would. Maybe it was this unusual feeling bubbling in my chest that was masking my ability to assess him objectively. But it seemed to me that his great listening abilities was an innate talent, or his parents must've been really good at parenting.

I studied his reaction carefully. He was nervous about the possibility of me meeting his wife to be. This only confirmed my suspicions; he liked me. He wouldn't be so nervous about us meeting each other if he didn't have anything to hide. I knew it. I knew it the moment he asked me to take those pictures. I merely confirmed what I already knew. I tried so hard to contain myself; to not show him that I've got him all figured out. I was sneaky that way.

But the truth was I wanted to climb over my desk and grab him by the collar and kiss him. Why did we have to play cat and mouse? Why couldn't we both just say how we feel and have sex already? Why did I have to be the "other woman"? Why does it have to be so complicated? I was having a serious case of Avril Lavigne syndrome.

I was intrigued to meet the woman who made a man like Killian want to tie the knot. He seemed like such a free spirit; the type who wasn't defined or bound by the laws of marriage. Something about her must've suppressed the bad boy in him only to let his inner gentleman rise to the occasion. I wasn't sure if I wanted to congratulate her or envy her.

I had to do some research on little Miss Claire Gilbert.

'Would you like anything else Miss Fernandez?', Madison said as she placed our coffees on the desk.

Killian grabbed his and chugged it down like it was beer. That must've burned.

'Tell Benji to be ready to pick me up in twenty', I told her then dismissed her.

'I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had other plans for today. I hope I didn't keep you long', he said.

'I didn't, but something just came up', I said in brief as I texted Derek, my fashion guru, to meet me ASAP.

It was already dark outside and I had a few errands to run for the fake party I just invented to invite Killian and his Claire.

'Oh, I guess I'll get going then', he said as he stood up.