Underneath My Skin

Ch. 10

I walk into the main room and hurry to the table. Zayn stands and pulls my chair out for me like the gentleman he is. When I sit down there is some sort of meat in front of me with mashed potatoes and cabbage.

"This smells good. What is it?" I ask.

"Its duck," Zayn says. "And your lips bleeding. Here." He hands me a napkin and I wipe my bottom lip.

Sure enough there's blood. I look over at Harry who is starring at his lap with the biggest smile one his face, deep dimples prominent. Seeing him smile really is a beautiful sight. We all eat making small talk. But, Harry stays silent starring at his lap the whole time. Watters come around and take our plates and I order cheesecake for dessert, Harry does too.

Images of his lips on mine, and his deep moans flood my mind. I press my thighs together and bite my lip. Someone kicks me from under the table and I turn to Harry, scowling at him.

"Stop biting your lip," he mouths.

I watch how his plump lips move with each word he says. I almost melt out of my seat. Fuck. More watters come around and hand us auction cards with numbers on them. I get number nineteen. Everyone at our table gets one except Zayn.

"Can I have your attention please?" A woman says from the front of the room into a microphone. "We will begin the auction. Hold up your card to bid and the highest bid gets the fine piece of art." The woman looks a Zayn and winks.

I look at Zayn and scoffs but he chuckles at my jealousy. I find nothing funny. The woman is simply gorgeous, blonde and kind of thick. She has blue eyes that I can see from over here, she looks to be in her early twenties. Zayn reaches under the table and finds my hand, interlaces our fingers, and rests them in my lap.

The thing is, I don't even feel guilty for what just happened with Harry and me. Strange. A man steps up to the mic and the first piece of art is graffiti. That one doesn't interest me as much but it sells for nine hundred dollars.

The next one is an Angel. I didn't see it earlier. Its sitting on the ground with one broken wing and one regular one. The broken one is black and weary, and the regular one is white and shinning significantly. Its beautiful. But I keep my card down, waiting for the specific painting I want.

A few more get sold until its finally up for sale. The stripper pole. I don't know why I want it so bad, but it would just look great in my living room. The man starts the bid at one hundred and I raise my card. Zayn looks at me sternly.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

I ignore him and watch as other people lift their cards. I raise my card when he says three hundred fifty. Zayn squeezes my hand.

"Briella what are you doing?" He says a little louder.

"Trying to get this painting," I snap.

Is he blind? He can clearly see that I'm raising my card to place a bid. The man says six hundred and I lift my card.

"I don't want you to do that," he scolds.

What the hell? Is it because he thinks i'm a stripper so i'm struggling? Fuck people and their stupid accusations!

"Then what is it that you want from me Zayn?" I almost yell.

Everyone at the table turns to us. Zayn lets go of my hand and stands from the table. He pulls out his phone and walks over to a corner. Harry puts his hand on my knee.

"What was all that about?" Harry whispers.

I sigh. "I don't know."

I look back at the auctioneer who is now on the phone. A few moments pass and he hangs up.