I wake up the next morning with my dress still on and a terrible headache. I moan as my memories from last night begin to surface. I can't believe I actually kissed Sherlock. What the hell was I thinking?
I try and sift through all my rambling thoughts. Sherlock has known this whole time that there was a small part of me that was attracted to him, he's been checking my pulse this whole damn time. But his pulse was definitely elevated when he kissed me last night. Did he do it on purpose? To manipulate me into thinking he has feelings for me so I would continue to kiss him and he check my pulse again? Is it even possible to increase your heartrate on purpose? Besides, he already knew about my feelings, so why would he need to check my pulse again? Does he actually have feelings for me? But if he did and he knew that I had feelings too, then why hadn't he said anything?
In between these thoughts, fragments of last night's kiss poke through, making my heart flutter. What a kiss. Definitely the best first kiss I've ever had. Would Sherlock be capable of kissing me like that if he didn't have feelings for me? Was that fake too?
"Agh!" I exclaim out loud. I can't figure this out on my own. I need an expert.
I pull out my phone and shoot a text to Eve: "I need your valuable expertise about men. Can we meet for coffee?"
She responds instantaneously. "Sure thing, but do I get a hint?"
"I kissed Sherlock. Or maybe he kissed me. I don't know, alcohol was involved. I need you to help me figure all this out."
"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Absolutely, I can't wait to hear about this...where do you want to meet?"
"I still don't know my way around. I live off Baker Street"
"There's a Starbucks on Baker Street. Meet me there in a half hour. And be prepared to tell me all the toe-curling details ;-)"
I quickly jump in the shower and am ready to leave in under twenty minutes. I check Google Maps on my phone and see that the Starbucks is only a five minute walk. "Good to know for the future," I think.
I grab my things and turn to leave but hesitate at the door. Sherlock. How do I face him after last night? Maybe I can just sneak out.
I tiptoe down the stairs and peek into the living room to discover that it's empty. Sherlock's either in his room or out. I breathe a sigh of relief and proceed down the rest of the stairs normally. As I reach the first floor and grab the doorknob, I hear a door open behind me.
"Oh, good morning, dear!" I hear a cheerful Mrs. Hudson behind me. I turn around and see her walking towards me. "You lot were certainly out late. I tried to wait up but ending up falling asleep on the sofa. Did you enjoy your evening? I tried speaking with Sherlock this morning, but he was in such a hurry."
Ah, so Sherlock had already left for the day. "Umm, yeah, it was great Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock was a perfect gentleman for most of the evening, thank you for preparing him."
"Oh, it was nothing dear, I just told him to open doors for you and be polite, that sort of thing. And if he didn't, I told him I would take his skull away!"
I laugh. I wonder if she would take his skull away if I told her the truth about the pulse-taking thing? Though she'd probably scold me for that incident too, since I tried doing the same thing to him.
"Well, I'm heading out to get coffee with a friend, I'll see you later Mrs. Hudson!"
"Alright dear, take care!"
I step outside and head to Starbucks. Eve is already waiting for me when I arrive, two coffees in her hands and a newspaper under her arm. She hands me one of the drinks. "Double caramel macchiato, hope you like. I didn't want to waste any time with polite chit chat while we waited in line." She takes her free hand and grabs me by the arm, leading me to a couple of comfy chairs in a corner. "Alright, spill. And don't leave a single detail out."
"Hello, Eve. Yes, it's good to see you too! I'm doing fine, how are you?" I respond sarcastically with an eye roll.
"I'm serious!" she exclaims. "Wasting precious time, here."
I take a deep breath to tell my story. "So, as you know, Sherlock came with me to the Gala last night as my fake date to get Leonardo off my back."
"And I heard that you two were a hit," she interrupts. "First Dance winners, congratulations. You're the talk of the Symphony group chat."
"Wait, there's a Symphony group chat?"
"That's not relevant, continue."
"And, hold on a second, where were you last night? I thought attendance was mandatory?"
"I had a date with a rich lawyer that I was definitely not breaking, I'm sure no one even noticed I wasn't there. Now please. Continue."
"So Sherlock, who is usually so rude and cold-well, you know, you've met him-was an ideal fake boyfriend last night. Opening doors for me, escorting me into the venue, helping me into my chair. And then we had that amazing dance. Eve, it was magical. Sherlock is such a fantastic dancer, I felt like I was floating..." I feel myself start to gush, but I stop myself. "After our dance, so many people came to congratulate us, and he wasn't rude and didn't deduce any of them."
"Sounds perfect," Eve adds.
"It really was. Of course, I kept reminding myself that it was all fake. And it served its purpose. Leonardo made a pass at me, but Sherlock came to my rescue," I lie. I can't tell her the truth about Leonardo and our case. "Afterwards, we decided to go to a salsa dancing. We took a few shots of tequila..."
Eve leans forward. "Ah, wonderful lowered inhibitions thanks to our good friend alcohol. I like where this is going. Sex in the bathroom at the club?"
I laugh. "Hardly! We danced, though it definitely got more sensual as the night progressed and we ingested more liquor and he got better at salsa. And let me tell you Eve, he looked damn sexy. Untucked shirt, a few buttons undone, my thoughts definitely weren't clean."
"I don't blame you," she responds. "He's hot."
"So after ingesting about six shots of tequila and dancing for hours, we finally head home. As soon as we get there, it was like Sherlock flipped the switch and he returned to being his usual surly self, no more polite or caring fake boyfriend. When I called him on it, he reminded me that it was all fake and served the purpose of deterring Leonardo, but that he knew I wanted more."
"How did he figure that out?"
"Oh, just wait until I tell you. You know he's practically a genius, right?" Eve nods. "Well, this whole time I've known him, he's been discreetly taking my pulse when he has physically come into contact with me to determine if my heart rate increases, thus proving I have feelings for him."
"Sneaky bastard!" Eve exclaims.
"Right?"
"Well, it's kind of romantic, I guess. In a creepy, nerdy, genius kind of way."
"Well, it pissed me off. And in my drunken stupor, I decided to try and best the genius by doing the same thing to him. I should have known I can't outsmart him."
Eve sits back in her chair. "Well? What happened?"
I sigh. "I took his pulse while..." Pause. "I tried to get his pulse to elevate..." Pause. "By kissing him." I finally reveal.
Eve laughs. "And? Did it work?"
"I think so. At first, it was just a peck on the lips and his pulse didn't change at all. When I kissed him a little longer, he didn't even kiss me back, but I thought his pulse had increased a little. So when I went in for a third time, Sherlock leaned in and he kissed me!"
"No!" Eve exclaims.
"Yes! At first, it started off slow and sweet, but it became much more passionate."
"Wow, and how was his pulse during that?"
I sigh. "I kind of lost track of his pulse. Both of my hands ended up on his face and in his hair."
"But he was definitely kissing you back?"
"Absolutely. He wrapped his hands around my waist. We just, sunk into it, you know?" Eve nods eagerly. "His hands gradually made their way up to my hair and my neck."
"Oh man, this guy is good!" Eve exclaims.
"No no no, don't you get it? My neck, aka another place to take a pulse. He was just taking my freaking pulse again!"
"Are you sure?" Eve asks.
"That's the only thing I can think of."
"Oh, I don't know, what about the fact that you're a hot woman kissing him and he's a man with hormones and he got caught up in the moment?" Eve replies sarcastically.
I shake my head. "You don't know Sherlock. He refuses to acknowledge his emotions, he buries them deep so they won't interfere with his work. That includes sentiment, and I'm guessing lust. Besides, I also think he's afraid of getting hurt. "
"I don't know, Sophia, I think maybe the man just wanted to kiss you. I think he cares about you more than you realize."
I shake my head again.
"Well, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, and there are three pictures on the front page of the Daily Mirror Lifestyle section that speak volumes," she says while holding out her paper.
My eyes widen, and I snatch the paper from her. I can't believe I'd forgotten about the photographers last night! I unfold the paper and see a headline along the top:
"Sherlock Holmes: Finally Solving the Mystery of Love?"
Beneath it are three pictures: in the first, my arm is linked through Sherlock's as he escorts me up the red carpet. In the second, I am reclined in Sherlock's arms with my hands around his neck, taken at the conclusion of our waltz when Sherlock lowered me into a deep dip. But the third picture is what makes my heart flutter. In the first two pictures, it is clear that we are having fun and enjoying each other's company. But the third picture is different.
We are dancing, and my back is facing the camera, so only Sherlock's face is visible. Other dancers swirl around us, but his gaze stays entirely focused on me. He has a huge smile on his face, mid-laugh. His eyes are sparkling with laughter, and they almost have a hint of adoration as he looks at me.
Eve points at his face. "Doesn't look fake to me. You can go through the movements, opening doors and being a gentleman and being a fantastic dancer, but you can't fake happiness like that."
I look at his face. My heart yearns to believe her. But my mind tells me otherwise. "Sherlock can."
Eve leans back in her chair. "Well, then go on telling yourself that it's fake. But it seems to me that you're acting just like Sherlock, refusing to acknowledge your true feelings because you're of getting hurt."
"Well, that's quite the psychoanalysis, Dr. Eve. How much do I owe you for this visit?"
"I'm serious. Be honest, do you have feelings for Sherlock? Do you want to be with him?"
I think for a moment before I respond. "Part of me does, but part of me is afraid that he won't ever return my affections, so what is the point?"
"The point is what could happen if he does like you back. Here's what you should do: just keep living your life as you have been. Don't change anything, don't act any differently around him. If he likes you, he'll eventually come to you. If I had to guess, I'd say these feelings he might be experiencing are new for him, so he will probably figure this out pretty slowly. If you get tired of waiting, then move on; his loss."
I guess it wouldn't hurt to just hang around for awhile and see what happens. It shouldn't be too difficult to see if he comes to me, would it? "Okay, Eve. I'll give it a shot. But I'm holding you personally accountable if this backfires."
"Okay, deal. And you can hold onto that paper."
I set the paper with my purse. "Now, tell me all about your date last night with this lawyer," I say with a smile.
She gives me a sly grin and begins to recount her evening.
We stay at the Starbucks talking for a couple of hours. We finally finish our conversation and head our separate ways. As I approach 221B Baker Street, I look in the window to see if Sherlock is practicing, but he's not. I walk upstairs nonchalantly, trying to act as I always do. I enter the living room to discover it empty. I walk through the kitchen and peek into Sherlock's bedroom: also empty. I guess he's still out.
I go up to my room and set down my things. My eyes linger on the paper that Eve gave me. He truly does looks happy. I quickly shake that thought from my head and return to the living room. I need to practice for Wednesday's rehearsal, and hopefully it'll help take my mind of last night's kiss.