𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚘 𝚆𝚊𝚛

Chapter 5: The Dinner

    When I came out of the bathroom, Beckham wasn't in the room. I gratefully walked out of the room clutching a towel close to my body. There had to be a closet somewhere. There were two other doors. I opened one and flipped on a light switch. There were definitely clothes in here, but not any that would fit my style. These were men's clothes. I decided to snoop around at Beckham's designer dress shirts and tuxes. He had really good taste in clothing. 

        "How many clothes does this guy need?" I asked myself. 

        "As many as I please, you could say." I turned my head toward the entrance. My heart was racing. "Already looking to steal one of my shirts, are we?" He was teasing me. I knew he was just trying to get under my skin. I cleared my throat. 

        "No, Beck. I was trying to look for my closet and ended up in yours instead." He leaned against the door frame. He was in casual clothing. He was probably about to get ready for dinner, too.

        "Beck, huh?" He smirked. "I like that." I hadn't realized I'd shortened his name into something smaller. I'd made it a habit when I was younger, and sometimes it still stuck around. I shifted my weight uncomfortably. I was still only in a towel.

        "Can you please show me where my closet is?"

        "It's the other door you haven't opened yet."

        "Okay... thank you." I brushed his body ever so slightly as I slid past him in the doorway. "I can feel your eyes on me. Stop it."

        "I can't help it, princess." I could hear him smiling. 

        "Maybe you should focus on getting to know me instead of staring at my ass every time I walk by you." 

        "You're so quick to make judgments, Bliss. I don't just look at your ass all the time." I turned and cocked my eyebrow at him. "Okay, I do sometimes, but not every chance I can possibly get. That's weird." I turned back and reached for the door handle.

        "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say." 

        "Just, meet me out here when you're done, okay?"

        "Whatever you say!" I repeated and shut the door behind me. I immediately started looking for what to wear. There were many choices from what I could tell. There were blouses and dress pants, Sunday dresses and ball gowns. There was even vanity and makeup area set up in the closet for me. "How prissy did they think I was?" I asked myself. Although I did prefer to wear pants, I decided to go with a more modern yet simple baby blue dress and classy heels. Makeup wasn't really my stronghold, so I only brushed on some mascara. I never did like to dress up. When I considered myself ready I walked back into the bedroom. Beckham was leaning against one of the pillars attached to the bed with his hands in his pockets, his head slightly lowered. But it perked up when he saw I was out of the dressing room. His eyes roamed my body, smiling slightly at my choice of style. 

        "Simple yet elegant. I like it." He commented. 

        "I wouldn't get too used to it. I'm not one to dress up like a sugar plum fairy." He nodded, his eyes holding a slight shimmer of interest. 

        "I like that too." His eyes met mine now. "You're different than any other girl I've met before." I ran a hand through my mid-length, brown hair to untangle some of the slightly wet strands.

        "Don't get all mushy. Love is a weakness, and weakness leads to a vulnerable kingdom." I walked slowly towards him. When I reached him I took his tie in one hand and straightened out the invisible wrinkles. We were close. Really close. Our noses barely brushed each other. Still, his gold eyes bore into my soul. I liked it. Why did I like it?