It was just before ten o-clock on Friday evening and James Henry was sitting alone in his bedroom nursing his scotch. His usually tidy brown hair, was ruffled from him consistently running his hands through it. He had arrived at tonight's gala event late and unaccompanied. He had stayed only an hour before heading home, alone. He was not in a good mood, and hadn't been for the past month. He couldn't keep his thoughts off of Alexandra Morgan. It kept him in a continuous state of anger and arousal. Every night he sat in a chair in his bedroom, drinking scotch, trying to forget her. He tried distracting himself with other women, but he couldn't bring himself to do more than take them out. Every time he thought about touching another woman, Alexandra popped into his head and erased those thoughts. She was the only one he wanted to touch, kiss, or even share a meal with.
He brought the glass up to his lips, telling himself that this next sip would erase her from his thoughts, as he'd been telling himself with each previous sip. As he placed the glass onto the table, he heard footsteps on the stairs. It was probably his housekeeper bringing him another meal he wouldn't eat. He picked up his drink again, expecting her to knock any moment, but the knock never came. Instead the door slowly began to open. He never kept his bedroom door locked, but the staff always knocked. He fixed his dark blue eyes on the door to see who it was as he brought the glass to his lips once more. What he saw had him stop the glass at his lips; Alexandra. She was standing there as if his thoughts had conjured her. She had her long brown hair down and she was wearing a simple summer dress, yet she looked breathtaking. She locked the door and then she moved into the room as though she belonged there. As she sat herself on his bed, facing him, he finally found the words to speak.
"What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"
"I used my key. Don't worry, nobody saw me."
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you, and I figured you wanted to see me."
"Why would you think that?"
"Because you are home at 10 o'clock on a Friday night drinking scotch," She said motioning her head towards his glass.
"How did you know what I was doing?" He said putting the drink on the table beside him again.
"Because I saw your face as you left the gala tonight. It's the same face you had the last time I found you in here drinking alone in your room." She paused, looking into his eyes. "Do you remember that day?"
James folded his hands into his lap, to keep himself from reaching out for her.
"Of course."
James remembers every second they had spent together since they met. Her every move was ingrained in him. He remembers when he first saw her, when he first heard her voice, the first time they touched, they first time they made love in this very bedroom. And he definitely remembers when he sat in this very chair, upset after having lunch with his family and Alexandra coming in, taking the scotch from his hand and placing her mouth over every inch of his body. They had been seeing each other for two months at that point, and that was the day that changed things between them. After she had kissed, licked, and sucked him until he could barely move, they had talked for hours. That was the night that he had shared his heart with her. No matter how many days, months, or years go by, he would always remember the day his heart became hers.
James shook his head to try and push that thought away. She wasn't here as his heart, as the love of his life. She was here as a woman who lied to him and was trying to explain to him why. He decided to focus on the sex aspect of that memory.
"Is that why you're here?"
"Maybe," she said with a smile. "Is that what you want?"
James swallowed the lump in his throat that was the word yes. No matter what had happened between the two of them, he would always want her. And right now he wanted her bad, but that wouldn't solve anything. He glanced towards the door, still expecting his staff to come interrupt them. Alexandra followed his line of sight.
"Everybody has gone to sleep."
"How do you know?"
"You forget that I practically lived here. I know the routine of your staff, even if you don't."
James eyed her, not sure if he should take offense to that last comment.
"Why do you always lock the door? No one comes in without knocking,...except you."
"I don't lock people out...I lock you in." Alexandra said as she moved off the bed and walked over to the chair next to his. James shifted forward towards her.
"Why would you want to lock me in?"
Alexandra sat on the edge of the chair. All James had to do was reach his hand out and he would be touching her. He continued to keep his hands clasped in his lap, not trusting himself. If he were to even brush up against her, he wouldn't be able to stop himself.
"To keep you from running off to work."
"I never ran off to work."
"Because it worked," Alexandra said with a smile.
James smiled back at her. Her smile always made him smile.
"Would you like to continue with the small talk, or would you like to get to the reason you are sitting alone in your room drinking scotch?" Alexandra asked.
"Alex," James said with a sigh.
"I know...you are mad, and you don't like to talk about feelings and emotions. Well too bad. I am here to pull you out of your comfort zone so at the very least we can get some closure."
"And what's the best outcome?"
"Maybe a repeat of the last time I found you in here?" Alexandra paused and looked into his eyes. "Or maybe more."
James wanted that more, whatever it entailed, but knew that whatever it was it would only be a distraction from what had happened. It wouldn't solve their problems.
"You lied to me," James said.
"I didn't lie. I just didn't correct your inaccurate assumption."
"Why? Did you really think it would matter to me? Do you think I'm that shallow?"
"Honestly, in the beginning I did," Alexandra said.
"How-" James started, but Alexandra cut him off my holding up her hand.
"In the beginning I did, but I didn't know you then." Alexandra let out a breath and ran her hand through her hair. She only did that when she was nervous, which wasn't often. "I assumed you were like every other man from an old money family. When we first met and you assumed I came from money, I didn't correct you, because I didn't think it would matter. I didn't think I would be seeing you again. I didn't think I would end up falling in..." Alexandra didn't finish her sentence, but James still heard the word she left off; love. She loved him. And now she was looking at him, trying to gauge his reaction to her almost slip of the tongue. His heart had belonged to her for months, but he'd never said the words. He felt her love, but was waiting for the words to come out of her mouth before he revealed his feelings.
"I understand that, but why didn't you say anything once we had started dating? When you met my family? When you practically moved in here?"
Alexandra let out a deep sigh. She slightly hung her head, perhaps in shame. James had never seen her look this way. Her posture always showed her confidence. He knew how to deal with her when she was snarky and aggressive. He wasn't used to this vulnerable version of herself.
When she lifted her head again and looked into his eyes, he saw the vulnerability her body was trying to express. Her light green eyes had tears about to form in them.
"I was scared," Alexandra began. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to be with me. There is a big difference between not coming from money, and coming from nothing. I kept planning on telling you, but then after meeting your parents I couldn't bring myself to do it."
"What did meeting my parents have anything to do with it?" James asked. She looked so sad, he wanted to wrap his arms around her.
"Your parents are very traditional. While they probably would come to accept someone who didn't grow up being groomed to be a society wife, I know they would look down on me if they learned about my past. Your parents aren't okay with your brother being gay, and he is dating someone from a society family."
"I don't care what my parents think. I don't agree with them when it comes to my brother, and I definitely won't agree with them when it comes to you. And if you didn't want them to know about your past, I would have been fine with that. All I'm asking is that you tell me about it. I feel like I know who you are, but I don't think I can fully know you until I know what made you the person you are."
