The Perfect Gift

Ch. 17

"Richard Bowen! It is just four flights of stairs! For a guy with so many muscles, how on earth are you so out of shape?!" Nini's incredulous, booming voice bounces around the stair case as she frowns down at her boyfriend huffing and puffing his way up the last set of stairs, his heavy, thundering footsteps echoing around the stairwell.

Nini had somehow managed to convince Ricky to take the stairs to get to Morgan's apartment, on the ninth floor. The four flights of stairs were nothing for Nini, but they were proving to be quite the trek for Ricky.

"Shut it, SalRobs!" he pants.

"Honey, are you sweating?"

"Why the need for your judgey voice?"

"You are so sad right now."

And finally, he trudges up the last three steps, still panting. "Oh God," he grunts painfully, doubling over. "Ow. I think I'm cramping. Ow. I think I'm cramping. Ow."

She stares at his hunched over form, an unreadable expression on her face. "I stand corrected. You, right here, right now, are so sad."

"How do your short legs walk up and down five flight of stairs every day?" he grouses as he straightens up with a wince, his hand coming up to angrily swipe the sweat and unruly curls off his forehead. His eyes glance down to her legs—looking long and slender in her clingy dress—and linger appreciatively. "Damn... but you always manage to make them look like they go on for miles and miles," he says, accompanied by a low whistle.

She flushes and swats at his arm. "RICHARD!" she squeaks. She tugs at the hem a little self-consciously. "It's not too short, is it?" she asks worriedly. It really isn't, as it fell past her fingertips if her arms were at her side.

He shakes his head. "Nah, you look good," he compliments with a wide, appraising smile. "Really good."

Nini smiles softly. "Thank you." She straightens his skinny tie and brushes imaginary dust off his shoulders and the lapels of his blazer. "And you look very handsome tonight, Mr. Bowen," she murmurs with a sultry smirk.

"Thank you, m'lady," Ricky chuckles and leans down to peck her perfectly glossy lips before turning to the door that opened to the eighth floor. They can already hear music pulsing through the walls and occasional shouting or screaming. With a small sigh, he mutters, "Well, let's get this party over with."

She laughs a little. "I'm sure it won't be too bad," she says optimistically.

The raven haired boy rolls his eyes but offers her his arm. She happily loops hers through it and they start for the door, him opening it for the both of them. The music hits them full in the face and they wince from the assault on their eardrums. They share a look and a thought—why hadn't they thought to bring ear plugs?—before stepping tentatively into the hallway of the ninth floor.

There are snack tables lined up against the walls, small crowds of people milling near the free food and offered booze, and a constant stream of people moving and waltzing in and out of all the rooms with their doors propped open.

Ricky and Nini wave and smile cordially to every familiar face they've seen around within the apartment building. So far, no one from their own floor just yet, but the night is still young. They continue wading carefully through the crowd, doing their best not to bump or run into anyone.

"If any of my crazy groupies are here, do not leave me," he orders, his voice low and quiet in her ear. "Do not, I repeat, do not leave me." And then he flashes a near manic smile at a young, drunk woman that winks and blows him a kiss. He politely brushes off the imaginary kiss from his shoulder and tries not to gag. "Seriously. Don't leave my side."