*****
I was a slave to my nose; this should surprise no one.
It's what roused me from my forced nap. Pulling me to pop up like the undead. A state that was just as accurate in how I felt; I'd slept too long and now was paying the price.
A brief pit stop in the bathroom to freshen up helped get my head screwed into place. I glanced at my reflection. The bruising on my cheek wasn't any less ugly but it was starting to fade. Silver linings everywhere, including...
The infernal single word that kept stampeding through my mind, veins, and heart.
Every second that ticked by forged a new path that was turning out to be a vortex. Sucking me in with no chance of resistance. My woe's taking a back seat to be rearranged for their new home.
I was mending. By some miracle, my pieces were becoming whole; losing every glue stained crack. An internal change that only I could see.
But not my nose...that beast was adamant in its ways. Demanding I tossed self-reflection into the back seat between woes and my permanent bullseye.
With the tip in the air, inhaling every aromatic spec of heaven, I was brought to the kitchen. Only to find Sweets practically elbows deep in bowls of batter. Absolutely scandalous.
Shamelessly, I inched forward, eyes on the ideal prize. Hands, shoulders, that soft smile, or baked goods? You be the judge of that.
"Something smells divine."
"Hey, Shorts." He looked up at me from behind the counter and smiled wider. The radiance blinding. "Had a good nap?" I felt that warmth cannonball into my chest like a blast from a fire hydrant.
We'd found our middle. The sun had risen the moment he'd walked into the library and it blazed in a way I haven't felt in weeks. The force of it easing every breath, every exhale. Light burning through the watered poison and giving me fuel to lift my head higher. Grow stronger.
I don't know what had triggered the change but he seemed lighter somehow. Had he found peace in my exit? Stay or go, Dalia... The tired notes ringing their bell. Would that even matter anymore?
It was difficult for me to figure out. If he was okay with me leaving, then what good would it do to tell him what I've been considering. But my long talks gave me a different perspective, one I really didn't want to let go. Stay.
The word sat on the tip of my tongue like a skilled diver. Just waiting to plunge straight down to the point of no return. Ronaldo's voice swayed me closer to the edge.
"I'm working out a new recipe." Round and round went his spoon in gooey deliciousness.
I blinked a few times in an attempt to refocus. He'd piqued my interest.
"New you say."
"Mmmhmmm." He hummed, switching to fold something into the batter. "A new type of brownie I've been meaning to try. Should be light and fluffy like a cake but with all of the flavor punch of a brownie."
I sat down at the breakfast bar. Watching him work. God, I never tired of watching him work.
"Sounds chocolatey," I said with a sigh. My taste buds dancing with anticipation. By this point I have sampled almost every creation he's concocted and my waistline could certainly thank me for it.
"You might consider it chocolate nirvana." His gaze drifted to me and I gobbled it up faster than whatever the hell he was going to make me taste.
"I can totally do chocolate nirvana." Give it to me, Ronaldo... He had three small bowls next to him, they all looked like frosting. "What's in these?"
I lifted myself to lean over the expanse of the countertop to get a better look at the mystery bowls. The gooey deliciousness.
"That is frosting for this possibly failed experiment." He sighed. "Or at least my recipe any way."
I snorted. "Doubt that, but do go on." I readjusted back on my stool, waving a gallant hand. "Please enlighten me."
"I'm trying to see which style would be the most pleasing to the palate. We have a ganache, traditional, and a light fluffy chocolate frosting." He pointed each one out. "One of these will be the winner."
"So confident, Sweets. What if you're wrong?" I eyed the bowls greedily but unable to resist teasing. I was no fool, I knew they tasted like everything I wanted to smother myself in—baker included.
"You wound me with your lack of faith. We both know I'm never wrong." I wanted to snort but was too busy balancing on the last inch of my board has he kept beckoning me to freefall. "Taste test, Short Stack." He smirked. "Here, why don't I." Ronaldo walked over and grabbed a square that was cooling on the rack.
Once it was safely on the plate, I watched him use some fancy slicer to press out three even portions. Sebastian kept glancing at me as he worked. Heated mischief written all over his face. It was making my knees weak. How fortunate that I was sitting...
Now separated with a reasonable space between them, he started to apply a perfect serving of each frosting on the individual pieces.
I was easily amused and impressed. Admiring his ability to apply frosting on delicate bites without tearing them apart. Such were Ronaldo's ways and I'd long ago have ended up with a mess. We all know that this monster could never be trusted with such a task. I'd most likely end up eating them to dispose of the destroyed evidence.
He walked around the counter to stand before me with this plate of gifts. An offering to his very own Eris on earth.
"Now for the most important test." He picked up a slice and handed it over delicately. Letting our fingers brush against each other. Fueling the current in my blood. Oof, I needed a medic. "The traditional."
I nodded sagely, staring at his damn enticing forearms. Mind abandoning its care for the crownie and looking for another kind of treat. A lovely filmstrip opened me up to so many possibilities... I bit into the baked good. "Oh my god." My hand went up to my mouth. I was momentarily distracted from the bangfest reel in my head.
"Promising reaction." Sebastian grinned like the damn Devil. It always came down to those seductive horns.
I finished up the rest in a single bite. Excellent timing as he was handing me slice number two. I couldn't help but notice he'd inched closer. Jumpstarting the film strip back to life. "The ganache."
My eyes fluttered shut as soon as that sucker hit my tongue. I couldn't tell you what was the catalyst. His voice or the taste. "Oh my..." I devoured the rest before saying anything more. "Beets, this–this is out of this world." I was easily bought apparently.
Without waiting for an invite I snatched the third slice with zero restraint. "The fluffy?" I asked before ungracefully shoving it in my mouth. He had nodded and that was enough for me because what happened next was perfection.
As soon as the light power-punch of the brownie touched my tongue, the fluffy chocolate frosting started to melt. The combination leaving me spinning for the right words to describe heaven in a single bite.
I believe I made a gurgle sound in the end. Most articulate.
"That good, eh?" His mouth pulled in amusement. So, so easily bought.
"Ronaldo, if this had walnuts in it, I'd chain myself to this countertop and call myself your slave." Now there's an idea.
He choked on a snort. "Well, that's a new high for me."
"But maybe I should have a simple taste test of the frostings alone, before we start patting you on the back?" I started to pull the bowl over with greedy fingers when Sebastian slapped my hand away. Pulling out a wooden stirrer.
"Ah ah, hygienically, Short Stack. Have I taught you nothing?"
"So sorry, Sweets, I'll be more careful." I wrinkled my nose at him.
He handed over the dipped stick—ahem. I licked it slowly, trying to savor the taste. This was no seduction game, I was a floozy for confectionary treats. "Fluffy?" I asked incoherently.
"Mmhmm." Sebastian didn't warn me of his intent, he just went in and did it. I had some of the fluffy on my cheek. How? The powers that be may never know, but Ronaldo swiped it away with his thumb. Slowly and I'm honking sure deliberately. It would have been worth the brain fritz even if it ended there.
Sweets refused to let my reel die on pause. I watched him put the thumb in his mouth. His eyes shining and making me melt in all of the places.
I was being assaulted on two fronts, this was a coordinated attack between taste and visual. Slowly my eyes followed his thumb slip out between his lips. There was a 90 percent chance my vision had slowed down, it felt like an eternity. God damn, I have never wanted to be a thumb more in my life.
"Not bad." He replied nonchalantly, but his smile said a different story. Wild West D decided she wanted the reel to become a reality. In a fit of insanity, I grabbed a clean stirrer and scooped up some of the traditional—swiping it on my healthy cheek with purpose. My eyes never leaving his.
"Oops." I was no longer thinking straight. There was only one chant bouncing around in my head and it went along the lines of 'do it, do it'.
Sebastian did not disappoint.
"So messy...don't worry, I got it." He repeated the move. Swipe and suck. I zeroed in on those damn lips gracefully accepting the chocolate faster than Superman hitting the sonic boom. I needed in on that...
"Oh." I was hypnotized by frosting and magical hands. Also lips. The lips were the real winner. This here is a perfect Tom & Jerry trap in my future if I'm not too much careful.
My willy western counterpart was shouting again! Again! Like the amused pervert that she was. Naturally, I listened because who was really running the show here? Before I could get the next stick, Sebastian beat me to it. Dipping just the tip of his index finger in the ganache—the runniest of the frostings.
He invaded my island, eyes never leaving mine. Personal space decimated with promise. My hormone monster threw the white flag and bless Sweets, he didn't miss a beat.
Sebastian traced the frosting on my lower lip. I hid my shiver. The ganache slowly making its way over it. If the sensation of that alone wasn't enough, he licked off the rest from his finger. "Oops." He whispered.
Ink. INK!
In one look, I dared him to do it. Come on Ronaldo, just how big is your bite?
Bad idea who? That no longer existed. Because I had options. He taught me that. And I was tired of fighting this off and running. I wanted a taste, just a little taste of this life. I wanted the sun to never set. Wanted an eternal blaze from his sky to my roots.
Sebastian's thighs pressed gently against my knees as he lowered his face to mine. His eyes never looking beyond my own. A hair's breadth away he spoke again. "I'll get that." My heart, which had started pounding some odd minutes ago, now felt like a jackhammer banging into my ribcage. Etching only one name into the surface.
His hand reached up to cup my cheek gently. My chest rose and fell in rapid spurts and stalls. Was I panting? Jesus get it together, we haven't even started yet!
Before I could rope my nerves in, he was there. His tongue gliding across my lower lip, cleaning up the mess he'd made. I wanted to grab at his face and press my mouth against his. I bet he tasted like chocolate...
It took so little to turn me into an active participant in my own seduction.
My eyes fluttered shut and I tossed caution right over my shoulder before leaping. Down, down I went off the ledge and into the aquamarine pool below.
I leaned forward and let our lips fully connect. Instantly, I held my breath, afraid if I moved a single muscle he would pull away and I'd end up belly-flopping.
But Sebastian didn't pull away. He simply took control.
He kissed my upper lip, then moved to my lower. Moving slowly and deliberately. He wasn't leaving anything to chance and I was getting the memo that he wanted me to feel every single touch. My body was singing. A rainbow shooting across all of my receptors and lighting up my brain like a fucking Christmas tree. How very appropriate...
My hands slid down his neck, grasping at the front of his shirt in tight fists for leverage or control. Who the fuck knew. Almond and cinnamon filled my nostrils. Why do you always smell like my favorite damn cookie... Resistance was futile.
By the time his tongue slipped against mine, I was overheated and ready to tear my clothes off. We traded the captains hat, passing amongst each other. One second I pushed forward, determined to leave a single thought in his head—it started with Lia and ended with Bed. The next it was me being singed with the memory of him with teeth lightly grazing my now sensitive bottom lip. I felt the bite down to my toes.
Taste-testing has never been so devious.
I took a moment to breathe. "I thought you said hygienically," I mumbled, slightly dazed. Words zig-zagging across my brain like rogue ping-pong balls. Ever elusive.
His lips brushed mine while he spoke. "I wasn't planning on selling these." Smooth motherfucker...then it didn't matter what rules he broke. Sweets was determined to continue what he started. He found my mouth again. This time pressing more fully. Gone were the delicate nibbles. He was knocking at the door to get in once more.
He repeated his very suave move of brushing his tongue against my lip and by Jove, I let him back in. I threw that door open in a fever and let it bang into the drywall, leaving a depressed knob shape to mark the occasion. Why the hell had I fought this?
The moment there was contact between us, I lost any ladylike protocol that was left. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. He did taste like chocolate.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a snide no shit echoed; I mentally flipped that bitch off. We had Ronaldo lips on us, yes we did, precious. The kitchen filled with the sounds of our erratic breathing, lips moving on lips.
Somehow his hand ended in my hair—massaging and gripping but ever so mindful of my wounds—and my leg was wrapped around his, inching higher to his hip.
My God-given gift of Koalaing up this man kicking into gear. At this rate, I was going to be licking ganache off of his chest before the night was over. A challenge I was willing to accept.
Thoughts of walking out of here, or telling myself this couldn't happen crashed into a burning heap on the ground. Dragging its cousins, doubt and hesitation into the flames.
He pulled me against him. The space between us becoming nonexistent. The longer we kissed, the less I cared about consequences. At some point one of his hands was resting on the bare skin of my hip—I silently begged for some of those fingers to start dipping into the waistband. Pull them the fuck off, Ronaldo.
Instead, I broke away for a second time to catch my breath. "Your batter is going to be ruined," I whispered. Last out, Sweets.
"I can make another," my hero replied just as quietly. He pulled me back to him, our torsos gracelessly easing back against the island partition. My back pressed into a wall that I feared would not be up to the task of the possible bangfest that was about to grace this kitchen.
"This is a bad idea." I gasped.
Ronaldo shook his head. "Good idea. Nothing but an excellent idea."
I nodded in agreement. "I was talking about the stool, it's tipping." I dragged his face back to mine. After several seconds, he moved down my neck, sucking and nipping along the way.
"Counter, on?" He mumbled against my skin.
"Idea, excellent is," I replied incoherently, digging my fingers into his hair and refusing him to let up. We pressed harder into the wall, sliding sloppily sideways, and the stool was brought to the farthest tipping point. Soon it would slam back underneath me and shoot Ronaldo in the shins.
Reason had decided to join the fiery pit filled with its brethren.
I started tugging on the front of Sebastian's pants. The move only mildly difficult with my hips refusing to pull away even a centimeter from his crotch. God, why are these still on? Off, these, off.
He mumbled in approval, his hands pushing my shirt up on their maddeningly slow ascent up my sides. I managed to just unbutton his jeans as his mouth landed back on mine. Sweets was taking no prisoners and only got one more good kiss in when there was a knock at the door.
He froze.
My eyes popped up to find his. We stared at each other, the view most certainly blurry and our eyes strained in their effort to focus.
Knock Knock came the rude bastard who just ruined my night.
The sisterhood of the underpants will not be forgiving this interrupter. Sebastian lifted his head and frowned in the direction of the door.
"Who the fuck is at our door?" I followed the movement of his very love bitten lips—thank you me—and sensed his hesitation to step away from my ensnaring limbs. My fingers still partially pulling on his fly. Stand down phalanges, we are not alone. I was certain my pupils were trying to shout 'let's just keep making out until they go away.'
I mean they had to leave eventually, right?
But step away Ronaldo did after a quick reassuring squeeze, heading for the intruder—giving me one more too short peck. I nearly fell face-first onto the floor as I unsuccessfully tried to follow his mouth.
Well, fuck. We were sooooooo close. The ganache, the seduction dance, the "accidental" sloppiness; all wasted. Stupid door knocking intruder. Another double thump sounded on the wood. I had a sinking feeling and the unease caused me to catapult off the stool against my battered limbs better judgement.
"Wait, Sebastian!"
But it was too late. Ronaldo with his damn long legs had already peeked through the peephole and opened the door, resigned. When he stepped aside I was floored.
No, literally. I tripped over my freshly laundered sneaker. The wall catching my stumble before my knee could connect with the carpet. I stared at the incessant knocker and felt every ounce of my humiliation.
Well smack my ass and call me Sally; Senator Romaldo was a cockblocker.
And the universe laughed and laughed as she waved the still of me lying in his daughter's wedding cake. Son of a bitch!
Sebastian let out a tired sigh. "Sir."
Senator Romaldo looked between us, taking in my hair (which I'm certain was reaching for another planet) and Sebastian's rumpled shirt. His eyes darted down then up. He pressed his lips into a fine line and cleared his throat.
Sebastian looked down, let out a solid fuck before quickly buttoning his pants. Oops. I pulled down on my own shirt to make sure nothing was showing. My aquamarine pool just turned into a Bucket o'Blood Red. Humiliation complete.
The Senator met my gaze, eyebrows raised and eyes widening. Is he trying not to laugh?
"Bad time, Son?" He asked as Sebastian stepped around him.
"Something like that." My grump managed. Sweets was looking at me in exasperation and something that looked a lot like a plea for forgiveness. Meanwhile, my head was spinning.
Why would Ronaldo want forgiveness? Why is the Senator just knocking on Sebastian's door? When did they get so chummy? WHY HADN'T HE BUTTONED HIS PANTS?? Son??????—don't think I forgot that little diddy.
What the hell was happening?!?
Sweets, spotting the swarm of bees buzzing in confusion around my head, decided to put me out of my misery. He rested a palm on my upper back. "Darlin', this is Matteo—"
I nodded. Butting in with, "Yea, I'm aware who—"
As Sweets finished, "My Uncle." He scratched his neck uncomfortably.
I stared at my baking genius who just nearly had my pants around my ankles and my top gracing the floor. Uncle. That's what he's leading with...
My head fell back and I started laughing. Disbelief, shock, and deliria all flooded my cells. Oh, Sweets. Only you would start there.
"He's also—" He continued.
I waved my hand to stop him before it plopped down and ungracefully grabbed his still rather stiff junk. FUCK. I yanked my hand away, pressing it to my chest in a fist. I stared at Sebastian, refusing to look away. "I know who he is," I whispered as inferno heat crept up my neck.
Sweets, who had sucked in air at the initial contact, was now trying to cover his laugh with a pathetic cough.
Great, now I can add groping the Senator's nephew in front of him to the humiliating pile. Right after the obvious elephant that is same nephew almost schtupping me before the state holiness arrived. I was terrified to look away from Ronaldo. I leaned in, "I was aiming for your thigh, I swear." I whispered again. My voice was broken. My brain was broken.
So many things were broken. Including but not limited to his daughter's freaking wedding cake.
It's fine. Ronaldo mouthed at me before tipping his head to his uncle. I looked over and found a very amused Senator. Watching us in fascination, like he was just itching to spread this entire scenario like wildfire across the Romaldo/McLoughlin pipeline.
"Matteo, this is Lia." Sebastian urged me forward.
I took the Senator's proffered hand for a quick shake. "Ah, the famous Lia." Please don't know about the cake, please don't know about the cake. "The woman who took down Paris single-handedly." He grinned.
Fuck me sideways with a porcupine. I groaned. "I'm so, so sorry, Senator."
He captured my hand in both of his palms. Engulfing it with care. He shrugged. "Matteo, please." I hesitated. "Consider me off the clock." He winked. "I actually found it rather humorous. A poetic ending for a poetic end."
"Okay." I wheezed and nodded, he was still holding my hand prisoner. I was too shell-shocked to pull it away. Sweets was rubbing my back and thank fuck for that. My knees were feeling weak; I needed that grounding.
Finally, I slipped my hand out of his hold. "I've heard a great deal about you, Lia."
I looked to Sebastian in suspicion. Not everything I hoped... "Good things?"
"Always, Shorts."
"The family's been singing your praises." Matteo turned to the couch, pulling off his jacket, leaving me and Sweets to take up the two-seater. I watched him cross his legs comfortably. Hands clasped on his knee. Something about all of this made me extremely nervous. "Of course, Renata had mentioned a Dalia, but I must have misheard."
Oh, mutton chops...
Sebastian inhaled but said nothing, his arm was resting along the backrest. My head cushioned by it. Well, time to go for broke in case Renata spilled the rest of the beans.
"You heard right. Dalia Romanov is my full name." I swallowed. "Sweets likes to call me Lia, it just sort of stuck." I shrugged. Looking to the silent ocean princess for support. He smiled at me encouragingly. God, it felt like a millenia ago that we were about to partake in a pseudo baking/house renovation show.
Now we were here. With the Senator. And Sebastian...his nephew. And my name burning through the floor like sulfuric acid.
Risks. I was taking every single risk this evening. But with Ronaldo by my side things didn't seem so bad.
Oh, ye naive fool.
Turning back to Matteo sank my heart. He was still smiling but it seemed frozen. Matteo's eyes took in my cheek, my eyes, the mostly healed mark in my hairline, before his gaze started to Ronaldo. I could feel Sebastian sit straighter, but he never pulled away.
Not even a millimeter. If anything, he pressed closer to me. Matteo blinked, and when he did, it was like watching a system reboot.
The warmth was back in his iris', in his smile. "Well, that explains why she only ever said it once." He laughed lightly. His tone had been soft but reserved. He knew. Fuck he knew. "Lia suits you."
I bit my lip nervously. I couldn't sit here. I couldn't make small talk while he fucking knew who I was. Who she was. "I think so too. I prefer it."
Sebastian must have felt my discomfort and jumped in. "So, what brings you here at this time of night?"
"I was nearby and figured why not drop in on my favorite nephew." Matteo oozed confidence and calm. Shit I needed desperately. I could feel my name just sitting there like a lurking lurker we were all trying to pretend didn't exist.
Sebastian snorted. "I'm sure."
"Well, I did have some news I wanted to share with you, but maybe that could wait until morning. We had breakfast planned after all."
They did? I looked to Ronaldo. Sweets still wanted to keep me home tomorrow, but he never mentioned taking time off. I don't know why that bothered me. But this whole thing was making my head hurt.
Before Sebastian could say anything I jumped up. "I'm actually feeling a little tired. You two can catch up."
"Darlin'..." Ronaldo looked at me questioningly.
"I'm fine. Just tired." I assured him, running my hand through his hair because damn it, I couldn't help myself. I felt like Mother Gothel trying to get revived from her Magical Sun-Flower. I reached out to shake Matteo's hand again. Showing confidence that was really only at 25 percent. I felt like a blubbering Intern. Jesus Christ. "Matteo, it was nice meeting you. Officially."
"The pleasure was all mine, Lia." He humored me with the shake.
"Right." I scooted to the hallway. "Goodnight!" I sqeaked then practically ran to my room. I needed a moment to think this through. To just pin down and dissect the shit out of all of it.
Face planting on my mattress, the covers swallowed my groan. I was going to need a pint of Jack before I could remotely plot out the last couple of hours.
Sadly, I was fresh out of the Daniels. Balls.
***
I sat on the edge of my bed twenty minutes later, staring at my empty glass.
Water. I had none. I was parched. My tongue was the Sahara, the empty glass my mirage.
It had but a sip left and I was too anxious to go get more. Of course, the more I tried to ignore it, the worse it got. Why hadn't I grabbed more water first? I always grabbed water.
Matteo had thrown me in for a loop.
Closing my eyes I tightened my grip on my book. "Don't you look at me," I grumbled at the glass. "There is nothing I can do about it." I was losing my damn mind.
Damn it, forget this.
I tossed the book aside and roughly got ready for bed. Pulling the sheets back, I scooted in and slapped the light off.
Got to sleep, Dalia. Just go. To. Sleep.
My mantra was a wasted prayer.
Tossing and turning had become my game. Somewhere in the fourth quarter I tapped out and refused to budge.
Lying curled on my side, I stared out the window, facing the music. I couldn't sleep. Earlier I'd wanted nothing more than to get to my room as soon as possible to mule over everything. Fail number one.
Now I was fidgeting, this was the price for claiming you were tired at 9 pm. After you took a 3-hour nap. Fuck me.
I glanced at the clock, it was only 12:30 a.m. I couldn't stop thinking about the Senator's visit (oh excuse me, Matteo's visit.) Or more importantly, what was happening before Matteo had knocked on the door and figured out I was the She-Devil's Spawn. Oof.
My body wanting to settle on fonder times propelled my hand to my lips. It'd been bliss. At the time I could only think of how to hold on to it. And debated how quickly I could shuck his pants off. But the same question kept knocking around in my cranium.
Where does this leave us?
Obviously we are a ways away from being magically together—there were far too many other conversations that needed to be handled first. Like my little confession that Dalia Romanov was officially not going anywhere.
I sighed heavily. I'm staying, God help me, I was staying. There it was, the dive straight to the bottom of the pool. It was either bravery or foolishness.
Days I spent working over Tony's offer, Lei's insight, and Sweets' never ending persistence to conquer all. That last one was the rub. Ronaldo's relation had just made things a hell of a lot more complicated
And with very sloth-like clarity, I discovered his A-Bomb. With an ally like that, it was no wonder he had been sitting smugly and drawing plans of destruction.
But honestly, I was more interested in where his head was regarding our Kitchen Ganache Debauching.
I didn't want to get my hopes up, for all I knew he just got swept up in the moment—although I'm pretty sure that snide voice was now rolling its unattached eyes to high heaven.
Of course we had attraction and mutual respect. But the hope blooming in my chest that this is more was another story altogether, I couldn't deny that I wanted it more than I've wanted anything. My mind's been flipped on its head for a few days now, pushing me to that moment. Had his?
I wanted him and his big heart. I wanted his reassuring smiles, his thoughtfulness. I wanted his constant hugs. I wanted to keep the way he made me feel safe—feel cared for. And oh alright, I definitely wanted to be in the know of what he was capable of doing with his nether regions.
My horny bird had been revived months ago and she was persistent as fuck. If I didn't remedy my current desert storm spell soon I was going to have to put up an out of commission sign on the old girl stating my wrist was taking a vacay as well. There is only so much gawking I can do while living here before duty called.
We won't even touch all of the brushes, nuzzling, and canoodling. Those were just pure devastation.
Lovely thoughts to have this evening as I stared at the twinkling lights of the city. I could have closed the shades as it made it a tad too bright in here, but it's not like I'm sleeping anyway so at least I had a view to stare at.
Frustrated, I fluffed my pillow. Trying to beat it into a more comfortable shape before lying on my back. I draped my arm over my eyes. Sleep, just go to sleep. Forget about almost getting your hands on some baker's pin roller...
Several minutes later I was on the verge of giving up when a faint knock came from my door.
"Lia, you awake?" Sebastian whispered hesitantly. I smiled, seemed I wasn't the only one fighting the midnight sheep.
"Yea."
"Can I come in?" His uncertainty was adorable and I loved him more for it.
"Yea. Why are you even asking?" A faint click signaled he was in, followed by the soft shuffling of feet on very plush carpet.
"I don't know, maybe you were handling the bean. Didn't want to interrupt." I could hear the smugness in his voice and it made me snort. I'm so graceful, like a gentle lady during tea time. That was another snort, by the way. I dropped my arm back on the bed to look at Sebastian's progress across the room.
BIG mistake. Sweets didn't have some crazy eight pack that looked like it was constantly oiled, but it's been very clear he took care of himself. He had definition in his abs but was definitely not trying out for the cast of 300 soon.
My problem was his upper torso and those freaking shoulders attached to those arms. I've witnessed them in a partial shower, in the kitchen, and felt up through layers of clothes. It didn't matter how many times I've seen it all before. No, no, it still got me good every time.
But the magnificent shoulders weren't even the show stopper tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, that award went to his lower half. Ronaldo was currently in just his boxer briefs. No shirt, no pants. Just pantaloons. And of course those colorful sleeves. A new outfit during one of our sleepovers...I will not survive this night.
This was heaven or purgatory. I hadn't much decided which yet. He was forever leaving me on a swinging scale.
If this was an attempt to sway my decision, he was earning some major brownie points. I averted my eyes to the ceiling, before I could follow the faint trail that led into the waistband, willing them to stay there.
"Shit, it's cold in here. I should have upped the heat. Scoot." He pulled the covers up before sliding in. I did move...by a centimeter.
"I don't think so, buddy. I made this spot nice and toasty, you can't just banish me to the frigid lands." I joked, I didn't even have to look at him to know he rolled his eyes.
Once he settled under the covers, another deliciously new development, he turned to lay on his side. His right arm tucked under his head while his other one rested on the mattress between us.
God, if that was the view when he was cold, I was afraid to know what it looked like at room temperature. Or was I? Suggestive eyebrows, are suggestive.
To distract myself from thoughts of Sebastian's wonder parts, I broke the silence first. "Couldn't sleep?"
He shook his head first but answered anyway. "No."
"Any particular reason?" I was being coy but his answer floored me—floor and I have gone steady. I wasn't prepared for the honesty.
"I don't have much time left with you, Short Stack." I could feel his eyes taking in my face. "I'm trying to make every second count."
"Sebastian..." I took in a shallow breath. Come on just say it, out with it! Tell him you're staying.
"I know." He whispered back. "I get it, Pints. It still doesn't change how I feel about it. My stance is where it's always been."
Oh god. This was unbearable. Given my revelation and this evening alone I needed to just come clean. I couldn't even pretend that I was going to mule over it, what was the point? I was tired of hiding and God damn it I wanted to stay with Sweets.
There was no doubt left. I even talked to Tony! Come on, if that's not commitment, I don't know what is. Then again Sebastian doesn't know any of this. I turned my head to face him. "Ariel?"
He sighed. "What?"
"Would it help if I told you I've decided to stay?" I swallowed in the minute silence.
Sweets stared at me for what felt like a century. "Is this some ploy to get me to fall asleep?"
I crossed my eyes in exasperation. Confess the truth, get doubted. Isn't that just my luck. "No, you goof. I'm being serious."
Sweets stayed quiet for another moment. His lids had closed and I could see his chest moving with subtle breaths.
"Uh, you pass out, Ronaldo?"
"No. Just processing." He hesitated for a second longer. "Are you for-fucking sure? This isn't some false promise with the pretense to disappear come morning?"
"Jesus, no. I'm not that big of an asshole, Ronnie. I mean it. I'm sure. More than I'll ever be." I scratched at my nose in my vulnerability.
"You've been adamant that this was the only way, Darlin'. Why did you change your mind? If it's anything I've done or said to make you feel guilty...please don't do this out of guilt." I felt his stare intensely.
"Sweets...it's not guilt. Yes, you've said and done some things that made a difference. But so have Lei and T...uh...some other wise friends that pointed out what you've been saying all along."
"And what's that?" He asked, patiently waiting for my slow replies.
"That I'm running. And not even toward a chance but to my own demise. Five months ago, I'd have left and never looked back, Ronaldo. I'd have scraped by and accepted where ever that path took me. But now..."
His eyes darted between mine, the intensity becoming almost debilitating. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder." My whisper floated in the space at our center. "I'd miss you, Ronaldo. Far too much to be able to stay away and if there is another option, like you said, I want to take it. This has become my home, I can't let her take that away from me. Not anymore."
"You'd miss me that much, huh?" He asked after a moment.
"Shut up you know I would." I bit my lip. "Mind having a roommate for a little while longer?"
He reached out and gently pulled on a cluster of strands. "I'd be honored. Consider my abode your abode."
"How noble of you." I tried to hold back my stupid smile.
"Little Lia is staying." He said to himself, eyes unfocused.
I signed my life away on the final dotted line. "Sure am." Fuck, I hope I don't regret this.
"Well, I'd be a fucking liar if I said I wasn't thrilled." Sebastian grinned at me as I pushed at his shoulder. "I'll need a moment for my victory."
"Stoooopp. Don't be a gloating ass, on top of an already smug one." The more I committed myself to my decision, the more at ease I felt. Home, this was going to be home for some time. I could finally breathe again. Except... "I don't want to be like her," I whispered.
His gaze softened."You're not, Lia. You never were."
"Maybe, maybe not. This is going to be hell, you know that right? She'll stop at nothing to destroy everything you've built, Sweets. Are you ready for that?"
"You have no idea, Pints." He replied firmly. "And neither does she. Not yet anyway."
"Easy, Rambo." I sighed. "I have conditions."
His eyebrow raised up. "Oh, and what might those be?"
"It's my call. My word. My decision. I say when and how." Sweets' mouth parted to argue. "I mean it. She is my problem, I have to do this my way. I've spent a long time fighting this, Ronnie. I have to be able to call the shots on how to handle her. I promise to ask for help and to accept it when you offer, but..." I paused, waiting for it all to sink in. "Ultimately, I choose."
Something unreadable clouded his face, but he nodded in the end. "Okay."
"No funny business, Ronaldo." I pointed at him.
"Uh-huh." I didn't like how uncommitted that sounded, but I was tired of talking about her. We had other pressing matters to discuss.
"Think you can sleep now?"
"Not really. Can't detonate the exciting factory like that and expect me to just pass out, Short Stack."
I nodded in understanding. Here we go... "It's definitely been an eye-opening evening. One with many reveals. And one I'm very interested in." Like what's in your pants...
He sighed. Settling further into his pillow. It reminded me of when I tried to turtle it into my shell. "I bet you have a lot of questions."
"Nothing that can't wait until morning." I shrugged.
"Lia." He deadpanned. I turned over to face him, mirroring his position. My neck loosening from being cramped for so long.
"Fine. What are you naming the dessert?" Maybe I was skirting around the real elephant in the room. Just a little more time is all I need.
"That's what you're going with." Sebastian's eyes bore into mine. I was happy to report, that the fire was getting stronger in those whiskey swirls of his. It wasn't until seeing it did I notice just how much I missed that part that was so much of what made Ronaldo, well, Ronaldo.
"How can I not? Sebastian, it melted in my mouth." I borderline moaned. I wanted to eat those crownies off of him. A dream I refuse to let die. "It was like angels throwing a fiesta on my tongue. I need to know what I'm calling out in orgasmic sugar bliss." He chuckled. I guess I could just call them Sweets, HA. My brain was a funny little thing.
"Over exaggerate much?" I shook my head. "I don't have a name yet. But you'll be the first to know when I do. Other's exist you know."
"Yea, but they're not yours." I admonished. How dare he downplay that delicious gift. The audacity.
"Just being honest. Every attempt starts as an experiment, Pints. No matter how many versions of it already exist. It's just about what twist you can bring to the table. At least my test subject seems pleased with my efforts." He winked.
His modesty was chafing my cheerleading hide. "Fine, I'll allow it, but you're making me my own batch after this."
"It'll be my pleasure." His eyes traced my face. A newfound urgency in them. Of course it will, his eyes said. Now that you're staying, I promise every bit of pleasure.
Woo-weee I think I was losing my marbles. I rerouted my thoughts onto our second elephant of the evening...
"So the Senator is your real dad, huh?" I dove in the only way I knew how, as a joke. Honestly, I'm surprised I waited this long.
Sebastian shook his head, exasperated. "You know what he is, dork."
"Lies! Come on, you're Matteo's secret love child who was given to a relative to be kept because the woman who mothered you was disgraceful, weren't you!" I pushed. He simply stared at me like I was nuts. But also hella amused.
"I'm cutting you off of all soap operas." I scoffed at his outlandish threat. I don't even watch soap operas.
"That was one time!" I defended myself with a gasp.
"Uh-huh, sure." He patted my hand.
I pushed at his shoulder... and maybe possibly paused for a squeeze. I was shameless. "Oh come on, I can't be the only one with a scandalous life!"
"Hate to disappoint you. My mother is Matteo's sister, my father is Kiernan McLoughlin—we have matching hair, for fuck's sake." True... "I still have the one older and younger sister. My dad's new money, as they call it, built his success and wealth from scratch. Part of why I'm so determined to do so as well." He smiled at me.
"Boo, that's boring." I chewed on my lip. "And everything I already knew."
"Sorry toots, you're the only one with a crazy background." I let out a lamented sigh.
"Why the son thing then?"
"I don't know. He's just always called me that. My aunt and uncle only have one kid. I guess I just sort of fell into that role. My parents struggled financially in the beginning. Matteo has always been there for us. We've always been close." That made sense.
"He doesn't like me." I frowned. Remembering how well that discovery went over. The frozen look, the silent conversation.
"Well, that's some bullshit." He tried to wave it away, but he couldn't lie away his reaction at the time.
"He recognized my full name, Sebastian. He...stiffened. I've had plenty of practice reading that." I hated how this felt like Thanksgiving all over again; like It was always going to be the same thing with everyone that cared for him. I was trouble and no good to be near their perfect Sebastian. Most days I think they're right.
"Matteo is... familiar with your mother. I can't deny that. His position makes it hard not to be aware of her. He feels for you. Knows what that must have been like and what you're up against." There was a heavy meaning behind those words. "Think back to after, Darlin'."
Reluctantly, I did. He'd warmed up some later, but he's a politician. His career is based on being able to act. And truthfully I'd been too much in my head to notice much else.
Sebastian reached out to place his hand on mine. "Whatever you're thinking, stop. I know my uncle, he may have been surprised but he's more concerned about you and saddened by who you have to suffer. He doesn't see you in the same light as her, Lia. You're not your mother. You never will be and he knows that."
My fear of being her just kept rearing its ugly head. His words were kind but they didn't lessen the blow that my mother's choices shadowed who I was. Some relatives will pollute your reputation just because you share DNA. Meeting Sebastian's eyes was out of the question, so I stared at his hand over mine.
Tracing the colorful line that stopped at his wrist was far more pleasant than thinking about that woman. The last place I wanted to think of her is in a bed with Ronaldo, which is why I couldn't understand why I kept bringing it up.
Clearing my throat, I finally responded. "Why was he surprised? From the way he spoke, it seemed like he was already quite familiar with who I was."
Sebastian stayed quiet for a moment. "I never told him you're last name. You didn't want people to know she was your mother, so when I talked about you, I kept that part to myself."
Warmth bloomed in my chest. Sweets, always looking out for my best interest. Is it any wonder that I fell in love with him? Love. The third elephant I've had to come and face. That one I'll have to ease him into.
"You're meeting up with him tomorrow then?" He nodded. "I can't believe you told him about the cake." That was mortifying.
"He asked what I planned on doing with it, I just mentioned that my employee had unfortunately crashed into it. He thought it must have been a prophecy, laughed a long time about that." Yea, so he's mentioned. Could have been worse, I guess.
Clarity smacked me upside the head for a second time. It was forever sloth-like.
"Oh my god," I whispered.
"What?"
"That means Carissa is your cousin!" For that one, I needed a drink. Maybe several. Something strong to dull out the real possibility I'd have to face her again one day.
"Ah, yea that. Some things in life are unavoidable." He said emotionlessly.
"Sebastian she was awful to you. I'm not even going to lie, during her tirade I seriously considered swapping out the low-fat sugar-free samples with the real stuff. Imagine what that would have done to her system." Sebastian let out a deep belly laugh.
"Oh god, you didn't." He choked out.
"I said considered!" He was still laughing. So maybe Guin wasn't my first victim. "Fine, I may have swapped out a few of them. Do you know how hard it was to not laugh?" I was an asshole and I could live with that. Psycho Guin ended up burning my arm during her trial, so sabotaging a diet seemed like child's play. The bed was jostling under us from his laughter. Sebastian buried his face in the pillow to muffle the sound.
I noticed how he didn't use his hand since that was still on top of mine. In fact, the grip had tightened.
"Wow. It shouldn't be funny but knowing how Carissa never talks about anything but her diet and the painstaking efforts she goes through for her meals, it makes it that much more hilarious."
"Doesn't she have a chef who preps her meals?" I asked confused.
"Yes, she does. That's what's so great about you being a sneaky asshole." The breath he let out was a content one.
"I can't believe you're related. How'd she get so awful." I snuggled into the mattress, the move bringing me closer to Sweets. "Your family is pretty fucking awesome, Ronaldo. Matteo seems decent. What made her that?"
"I'm going to say same thing that got to Guin. Surrounding yourself with parasitic vain and narcissistic people will only exacerbate the worst in you. I never got it myself, but Carissa reveled in that world. Matteo had a very humble beginning. His decorative military career was what makes him such a compassionate person.
"What he experienced there is why he strives for the causes he does. She had the same role models I did. And I know they tried to raise her as modestly as possible but she's simply the byproduct of her environment. From a young age, she was in an elite status because of Matteo's promising political career. I don't think there is any other reason." His chin dipped down. "And being Guin's closest friend only made things worse."
"Gross." I mumbled. I'll be avoiding their presence like the plague should we ever end up in the same room.
"I feel bad for my aunt Viv, I know it breaks her heart, they fight with each other constantly. It's another reason why I wanted to succeed on my own. Carissa was a great motivator in what not to be. I can't imagine ever talking to my Ma the way she talks to Viv."
"That's because you're a loving person, Sweets. Still doesn't excuse her behavior towards you. Even if you were a big ass once upon a time." I grinned at him. "Although, you've gotten better."
"Gee thanks. Apparently, she had one hell of a fit when Matteo told her that the cake was trashed. For some reason, she still wanted it, made no sense. I'm actually not surprised that her fiance broke it off. At their engagement party, I was certain he was going to walk."
"Can't blame the fellow," I sighed. "Can't blame him at all. Carissa Romaldo is a handful."
I pondered over the revelation, then started snorting.
"What's got you cackling, Shorts?"
"Renata named you Ronaldo..." I tried to bury my laugh into my pillow.
"And?" He watched me amused.
"Ronaldo, Romaldo." I peeked at him.
He grinned. "Ma's sneaky. Our parents drew straws on who got to pick names. They were always competing and could never agree. He won for Tris. And he won for me. But Ma is a sore loser, so she snuck Ronaldo in there. Demanding a stamp of her own. She felt quite victorious. That is until my dad won for Eil's as well. She felt justice had been served for going over his head."
"That is absolutely juvenile..." I stared at him. "I love it."
"They're something else." He smiled. "Could always be worse."
It could. He could have been like Carissa, and what a shame would that have been for the world? My gratitude knew no bounds for Ronaldo's humility. I was grateful for how he'd turned out.
"Thank you." My sentiment caught him off guard.
"For what?" He was moving the back of his knuckles up and down my arm. It was giving me delicious case of goosebumps.
"Because I can't thank you enough. You don't know how grateful I am for everything you've done for me. You've given me so much, Sweets. And I know it's been a really rough ride between us but you never gave up. So thank you. For all of it, including the ditches." My voice had gotten wobbly toward the end. A unicycle with a flat tire. Sebastian swallowed slowly. There was a deep tenderness in his gaze.
His hand came up to cradle my jaw, his thumb soothing. I felt the tell-tale nose sting but held it together. That didn't stop the water pooling on my lower lashes. I really needed to stop crying in front of him. I'm gonna end up giving him a complex. But we were healing him and me. These were phoenix tears damn it.
"You're welcome." His head moved closer to mine so that I couldn't avoid his eyes which was exactly what I was trying to do, we were about a foot apart. I considered it a foot too far. "I'd do just about anything for you, Shorts. It's no sacrifice to stand by your side. I'll always be standing there, so long as you need me." My breathing became very elusive.
He was awfully close and it was hard to concentrate on anything else. His words were a hand gripping my windpipe. Sweets rested his forehead against mine and dragged in his own deep breath. Almost like he was taking the air right out of my lungs. Sweet baby nutcracker.
His hand had moved to wrap around the back of my neck, his hold was firm but not painful. I closed my eyes from the onslaught when his nose started to brush against mine. Gentle Eskimo kisses leaving me in an embarrassing pool of desire.
Every baby exhale that left him brushed against my lips, I kept my eyes shut just to feel every sensation. It was driving me crazy, that small distance. God, I wanted to kiss him. To push the envelope of what happened in the kitchen. It seemed that for once the stars had aligned, next thing I knew, his lips were on mine.
Just a light peck. Followed by another. Then another. It didn't take long for me to peck back, and when I did? It became a whole different ball game. Round two was not slipping away from me so easily.
Pecks turned into frantic kisses. Frantic kisses turned into slow sensual ones.
At some point, I ended on my back, Sebastian partly over me. His hand had moved to rest around my ribs, while mine went into his hair, grabbing hold to make sure he didn't move away.
I was lost in the tender way he held me. Lost in the way his tongue teased mine. I was addicted to the noises he made when I nibbled, a light graze of sharp teeth to delicate skin. I was playful in bed but he made me want to be playful and possessive.
I loved him and I was certain that it poured through with every swipe of my tongue. I couldn't even panic at the transparency because I was too busy molesting his arm and shoulder. I was becoming greedy and parts of me were aching for something more.
The question was would he take it that far?
I got part of my answer when his hand moved down my side and wrapped around to grab some cheek. Squeezing gently, but effectively moving my hips against him. It was fantastic. My ass has never been so happy.
He was rubbing my outer thigh when it ended back at my hip. His thumb caressing the skin there, dipping lower into my waistband with each pass. I urged him to keep going with my tongue.
Dive right in, Ronaldo. I've been waiting.
I lifted my hips to press against his, my gesture in letting him know exactly where my wants lay. That was all it took for him to start the exquisite torture.
Warm fingers slipped into my short's waistband. His breath hitched with a groan at the realization that Dalia over here was going commando. Yup buddy, open pastures just for you. Not that I planned it, this was a happy accident. In joyous activities, there are no mistakes, only happy little accidents. Bob Ross circa the golden years. You're welcome world.
Not willing to waste any time, the magic he was creating with his hand was mirroring his mouth movements against my neck. My collarbone. And finally along my jaw. I didn't know where to focus, it was sensation overload.
All I could do was grip onto him tighter, the sounds coming from me could rival the moan from the Cake Combustion debacle. Firm fingers circling and gliding over my clit while toying with the only entrance that mattered to me at the moment.
I thought I was done for from the outer play alone, then he slipped those damn magical baker fingers into the promised land and I just about exploded. My engines hadn't quite cooled from our earlier dance...
For months I watched him knead dough and work miracles with his baked goods. Fantasizing about what that would feel like in this exact situation. Working myself up in a tizzy.
Let me tell you, the fantasies were wrong. All wrong. In fact, they deserved to be torched. There was no comparison to the level of finesse and skill this bastard had.
With his thumb creating one type of havoc and the rest of his hand completely ruining me from solo time ever again, I felt the telltale warm buildup in my lower abdomen. I was fast approaching the cliff and it promised to be absolutely glorious.
His lips stopped moving against my skin as I was teetering on the edge. His eyes darted across my face when I finally crash-landed—he wanted to watch me come undone. And boy did I deliver.
Before I could even recover, his hand was back on my outer thigh, squeezing and caressing. His center pressed against mine. Getting acquainted with nerves that have been screaming his name since we met.
My only coherent thought was fuuuuccckkk. Sweets started rocking against me the moment I reclaimed his mouth.
I needed more. The more he moved against me the more I needed to feel him. So naturally, my hand slid to his briefs, thumb hooked I started to push them down. His hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me.
Moving from my mouth, he nuzzled my neck and laid a gentle kiss before whispering in my ear in a ragged breath. "Slow down."
Um, slow down? Excuse me? Was that a joke? Did he not just give me a full-on probing exam in my cabana? Did we not just go through the trial of emotional grasses that demanded combusting bed tango? He couldn't be serious, we had sped past the green light and ran over the yield sign ages ago. Starting with my shameless pawing on a barstool.
It wasn't lost on me that he'd stopped moving altogether. Gone was the beautiful friction that was over the undergarment hanky-panky. I looked at him stunned. Pleading with my eyes, or I thought I was.
He kissed me one more time then shook his head no. I had no words. He had slammed down on the breaks just before either one of us could get our rocks off. Oh alright, I can't complain really, I already got one good O out of it but still, I'm greedy.
I couldn't understand. We were definitely on the same page earlier, what changed?
I needed him. I needed to get him off. I needed to give the Sebastian train a full guided tour of the Dalia station; it was imperative that he got that tour. Was this man seriously going to give himself blue balls? Why?
If I wasn't so frustrated about the Fighting Irish's change of heart, I would have marveled at his control. Sebastian pulled away and got out of bed.
Well fuck me (not), he was actually stopping. This was actually happening. We were really going to stop what would have been the greatest union since the Beatles. If you can't tell, I was a bit distraught. Had a guy ever walked away from my front door when it was open? Nope can't recall a single one.
Except for right now. The cold air hitting my very damp shorts felt extremely uncomfortable and jarring. Sebastian had already left the room. Okay, so that was that.
The doubt started settling in as I fought it tooth and nail. Had I read this all wrong? It hadn't appeared so earlier...
I got up and dropped trou. There was no way I could sleep in these now, I tossed them into the hamper. Grabbing a couple of makeup wipes from the nightstand and cleaned myself up. Maybe if I was lucky I could wipe away the memory of his fingers while I was at it.
Hey, a girl could dream, right? Pardon my bitter remarks, I'd think it's a common reaction when one's world had been rocked then stopped. It just didn't make any sense, he was definitely into it. There was no mistaking the baton that was making a permanent mold in my clay factory.
Sorry, sorry. I'll stop with the euphemisms. Maybe.
Slinging on a new pair of shorts, I tucked back into bed on my side, continuing my staredown out the window. I've come full circle. My body was sluggish, ready to rest after being given such a release, but my mind now had a new storm brewing.
This is why you did not go pow-wow with your roommate/boss no matter what emotional entanglement went down. It gave you a migraine. That might still be the concussion. Bah.
Sebastian had been gone so long that I was surprised to hear him close the door and walk back toward the bed. I tensed up wanting to feign sleep but my head turned automatically to take him in.
"I turned the heat up." He murmured and held out a glass of water to me. Sitting up, I took a tentative gulp before placing it on my nightstand.
In the meantime, he'd gotten back into bed. I noticed that he changed his underwear as well. Can't say I was surprised, if my pantaloons had been drenched I imagine his hadn't fared any better.
I tucked back onto my side, facing away from him. Unsure of what to do.
He'd stopped the main event so touching him was out of the question. I can only handle rejection once in a night, thank you very much. The problem was I was very aware of him being there, which is also what happens when someone plays your music box like a damn violin.
Emotionally, I was strung tight. I'm pretty certain they resembled the dreadful tangled Christmas lights that made you wish you'd just bought the one-dollar box at your last splurge. Sebastian laid behind me, a hand gliding over my hip and waist—back and forth, back and forth it went before finally settling around me.
He tucked me against him, placed a kiss on my shoulder and rested his chin on my head.
"Sleep, Little Lia." He whispered softly. It's like my body had simply been waiting for reassurance. I was still confused but I was warm and comfortable. Safe with him wrapped around me, my skin singing with the contact. Dare I even say it? I was home.
Sleep, Little Lia ran through my head just once more before I drifted off.
**********
A/N: I'm going to safely assume this was the moment ya'll have been waiting for...sort of, bwahahaha!