DRAWN (18 page)

          Akito-san frowns. “You look a little peaked, Kat-chan.”

          “I’m…”

About to shag his son if he doesn’t stop playing with me this second.

          “She’s always like that after a flight,” Yuki says, giving me a concerned look even as his eyes gleam.

          “Maybe a glass of water would help?”

          As Akito-san calls for a waiter, I turn to Yuki with a glare even as I try to push his fingers away under the table. “Seriously, Yuki,” I mutter under my breath. “This is not the time.”

          “It’s always
the
time for us,” Yuki murmurs with a smirk.

          Oh, really?

          Feeling like I need to work on some kind of counter attack before this gets any worse, I bide my time. When the waiter comes to pour soup into his bowl, I rest my hand on his elbow and let my fingers do some crawling, too. Well, okay, not as far as
his
fingers have gone, but just far enough to have Yuki choking. The sound of it is music to my ears.

          Confusion and anxiety war on Akito-san’s face as he gazes at his son. “Now you’re the one who doesn’t look so good.”

          I’m about to answer when Yuki suddenly grabs my hand on his thigh, slowly bringing it up, up, and up.

          Oh, shite.

          He’s called my bluff.

I try to stop the movement, but he’s too strong and I can’t yank my hand away because then Akito-san’s going to find out what’s going on, and he’d think I’m just one of those “forward American girls” he feels so uncomfortable with.

          Why don’t I bloody learn?

          You just can’t outwit a god, right?

          Akito-san’s head snaps back and forth between us. “Do you two want to rest? I can have the driver send you two home right now.” He nods his thanks as a waiter pours water into our glasses.

          “I’m okay. Just a little
hot
,” Yuki says with his patented angelic smile, taking a sip of his water, cool as you please even as his other hand pulls my fingers higher.

          I choke on my soup and choke some more when I feel a telltale sensation between my thighs.

          A whimper escapes me.

          Alarmed, Akito-san exclaims, “What is it, Kat-chan? Do you feel a little hot, too?”

          Sometimes, it’s just no fun to be Yuki’s toy.

          “Akito!” a voice sings from behind just before Sascha arrives in a swirl of lavender skirts and a cloud of heavy perfume.

Sascha’s grand entrance gives me the distraction I need, and I yank my hand away from Yuki’s hold with a glare. Because it’s really all I can do. Glare, glower, scowl, frown – that pretty much sums up the only ways I have for standing up to Yuki.

          “What’s wrong,
senpai
?” he asks with complete innocence.

          “
You
---” A light feminine touch lands on my shoulder stops me from exploding, and I scramble to my feet when I see Sascha smiling down at me. 

“Hello, darling, I’m so glad to see you again.”

          I start to say ‘hi’, but the words disappear into her smooth pale cheek as she exchanges air kisses with me.        

          “How was your weekend with Yuki?” she asks with the same charming voice I remember.

          “It was very nice,” I stammer.

          But I don’t think Sascha’s heard me since she’s already moved on to her son.

Yuki is on his feet, still as a marble god.

His mom kisses him on the cheek as well. “You look wonderful as always, Yuki,” she says.

          “Thank you,” he says, tonelessly.

          “Darling!” Sascha comes to her husband last and kisses him lingeringly on the mouth.

          It’s a very awkward scene, but I do my best not to mind, especially when Akito-san’s face flushes with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. Like any normal kid, I prefer to think all parents get their babies by stork delivery.

Akito-san guides his wife to the table, pulling out her chair and waiting for her to be seated. He must be a very modern Jap. In his country, it’s usually the wife doing all the serving.

          “How was Russia, my love?”

          The movie
From Russia with Love
pops up in my head at Akito-san’s words. That James Bond film had something to do with a sex video, doesn’t it? I steal a glance at Sascha.
Nah.
Impossible. It’s my
mangaka
mind working on overdrive again.

          As the waiter serves our appetizers, Akito turns to Yuki. “Did you read the reports I emailed you?”

          Yuki starts to speak, but Sascha’s words easily bury his when she exclaims, “Oh, look, darling, it’s the Hennesys!” She waves at a couple in their thirties who have just come in the restaurant. The woman with the heavy makeup and an even heavier mink coat flutters her fingers in return.

          My instincts scream at me to look at Yuki. When I do, a little zigzag crack breaks the surface of my heart. His face is beautiful and so utterly blank, the kind that amateur portrait artists are so good at capturing, all technical excellence but without even the tiniest spark of life.

          “We should go over to their table later and say ‘hi’ darling,” Sascha says.

          “Then we will,” Akito agrees and turns back to Yuki.

          Yuki bends close to his dad. “The reports---”

          Sascha pouts. “Are we going to talk about business over the table? And just when you’ve been gone for over a week?”

          “All right, my beauty. No more business talk,” Akito says in his usual good-natured voice.

          Yuki is carefully pasting a sheet of brie cracker with ricotta cheese. “Father, your favorite---”

          Sascha easily takes the brie cracker away from Yuki’s fingers. I cringe at the way she snaps the cracker into pieces on her plate. In my mind, it’s Yuki’s heart she’s crushing, and it doesn’t feel right.
Nothing
felt right since Sascha came.

          “Naughty Yuki,” she says with a light laugh even as she grinds the pieces into dust on her plate. “You know this will just make your father hypertensive.”

          Yuki says nothing.

          Akito-san laughs. “Well, we men stick together.”

          His words make me want to cry. Gods
can’t
be hurt. Gods are always tough. Gods don’t get sad. Yet Akito and Sascha, in very different ways, prove me how badly wrong I am.

Past the salads, the lobster entrees, the platter of cheeses, and all the way to the meringue cakes, Sascha does not let go of the reins, does not stop viciously hurting Yuki with her very sweetness, and my heart doesn’t stop cracking until an irreparable gulf has splintered it into halves.

By the time we say our goodbyes, my heart is hemorrhaging. Yuki’s face has turned into the loveliest, ugliest, and most heartbreaking mask I’ve ever seen. My stupid heart, which hasn’t even beat, jumped, or gone ba-thump at all the sweet and sexy things Yuki has done for me, is now bleeding so much I almost can’t breathe.

          Stupid, silly, stubborn heart.

          Why did it choose tonight of all nights to crack, with Yuki looking more like the 16-year-old guy he really is and not the god I’ve always imagined him to be?

I have a little request, senpai.

         
Oh no. I am not going to answer that again---

My phone demands for my attention.
SENPAI
.

         
I don’t want to know,
I text back.

         
Lately, Yuki’s been texting me these daily “challenges”, but the bloody sod insists they’re just “requests”.

          Ha! Requests, my arse.

I want my little toy to show me the color of her panties.

          Today’s request is riskier than most, though. But honestly, it’s
nothing
compared to my own self-imposed struggle, which is pretty straightforward but almost impossible.       Like the fact that, you know, I’m not supposed to fall in love with him?

          Yuki’s just asked that one thing from me, just one thing, and my idiot little heart is such an epic fail at doing it. I am still ashamed, disgusted, and flat-out scared at the fact that I’m in love with him, so much so that I try not to think about it at all.

          I succeed, sometimes.

         
Do it today, senpai – in school.

NO.

I look forward to it, senpai.
Either Yuki didn’t get my message or he’s decided to ignore it. Unfortunately, my money is on the latter.

Honestly! What is it with this guy and my knickers? It’s not like I wear thongs or something really hardcore like – I shudder – the crotch-less kind. Nothing against them, but they’re just way too risqué for me. I mean, come on. Panties with
three
holes instead of two, and they’re all strategically located? I’ll probably have an easier time saying F-me than wear something like it.

          “What are you so mad about?” Lace, who’s sitting next to me, whispers just as Mr. Lewis turns his back on the class, taking a sheaf of papers from his desk as he starts talking about the next report we have to do. Mr. Lewis and I have moved past our hurtful days during the Civil War and we’ve patched things up by the time we reach WWI.

          Still fuming, I drop my phone back into my pocket before Lace can even think of snatching it away. There is absolutely
no way
I’m going to let her know about what Yuki and I, umm, do. It’s bad enough she knows I’m his you-know-what.

          Mr. Lewis looks at us suspiciously when he sees Lace still facing me.

          “Stop looking at me,” I mumble under my breath, nudging Lace with my foot so she’d finally look back at the teacher.

          When he resumes talking, Lace lifts her notebook up, hiding her face behind it as she insists with a sly grin, “I want to know what you and your Jap are into now.”

          “Don’t ask so I won’t have to lie,” I whisper back, also behind my notebook.

          “Oooh…Can I make guesses then?” She taps her chin. “Umm…he wants you to have sex with him in the bleachers while we’re having practice.”

          Why, for the bloody love of hell, am I surrounded with people who find it so blasted easy to talk about sex? Can’t they just bloody draw their thoughts like I do? It’s so much more civilized.

          “It’s not like that.” I feel like I have to defend myself, although I don’t really feel offended.

          “I think---”

          Mr. Lewis snatches our notebooks. “Care to share what you’re talking about, girls?”

         
Busted
.

          My second detention slip, and it’s issued in the same month as the first. I’m all for setting records, but
this
is not the kind of milestone I have in mind.

          When the bell rings, Lace immediately races forward to argue with Mr. Lewis. She
hates
missing even one second of practice with her boys. She says they won’t survive without her, and she’s probably right.

          Mr. Lewis catches sight of me leaving the room through the back door. “Not going to argue your case, too, Ms. Chariot?”

          “I know when I’m beaten,” I say, but my vengeful good-girl smile is all for Lace.

          “Teacher’s pet,” she coughs even as she grins.

          Hopefully, that’s going to stop Lace from making me squirm in class every time she talks about shagging.
Everyone
in the world seems to have fun messing with me, like I have an EASY TO TORTURE placard hanging around my neck instead of the usual Scarlett Letter.

          Without Lace, I don’t feel comfortable having lunch at the bleachers so I head to the cafeteria, where I immediately spot Yuki, eating with a couple of juniors – and all of them have
willies
, I’m secretly happy to note, too.

A tiny germ of an idea emerges, and by the time I have my tray, I know exactly what I have to do. I just…need to gather some more courage to execute my plan, that’s all.

          Yuki raises a discreet brow when he sees me sitting alone just two tables away from him.

          Want me to sit with you?

         
It’s all his fault, really. How can you
not
fall in love with Yuki when he’s sweet, smart, and, well, just very much like a god?

          It’s been days since that bloody awful dinner, one that has pushed away my exciting I-miss-them-so-much wet dreams and replaced them with the crappiest nightmares.

          When he’s sweet like this, I can’t help remembering the bloody ghastly way Sascha has so skillfully created a distance between Akito-san and him. I’m at a loss of how Yuki can bear living with his mom under one roof. Isn’t he, like, scared she’s going to murder him in his sleep one day?