A/N: The juicy part is coming I swear. I've strung you guys long enough.
And I've added the list of the President's staffs and their occupation in the Cast List (first chapter) if anyone gets confused.
Ed Sheeran- Perfect
Niall Horan- This Town
Shawn Mendes- If I Can't Have You
2 days earlier...
Damien's POV
I grit my teeth and close my eyes in frustration. My hair is a mess from running my hands through it all day.
All day. I've called my friends, except Jane, trying to find the perfect gift for Hope. But all of it was stupid, corny, or downright insulting. Hope deserves more than a stupid cake and flowers. Or perfume or all the dumb shit she probably buys on a monthly basis.
People are giving me weird looks as they pass by. I must look weird as hell standing in the middle of Victoria Secret.
"I'm gonna hang up. This is stupid," I tell Juanita, Carlos' current girl. She's been helpful with everything except this.
"Just buy her freaking panties and call it a day. You're so picky." I can literally hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. "I've been on the phone with you for an hour. Everyone and their moms told you what to get but you're just saying no to everything."
"Whatever." I hang up frowning at the guard who's giving me side glances. I raise an eyebrow and he pretends to be looking at some other customers. I walk out of there, almost running into a girl waving lingerie in front of her mom's face. Who the fuck buys lingerie with their mom?
My phone vibrates and I see a text from Juanita saying show me what you get her dickhead.
I step onto the escalator in a blind search. I've scoured the first and second floors, none of it helpful. My mind wanders to our phone conversation yesterday morning. She told me not to get her anything but she couldn't possibly think I'd obey, right? She hadn't called me at nighttime. Only a text saying her dad had tired her out and she was going to bed early.
I almost give up when I spot Pandora on the fifth floor. Hope loves cheesy stuffy even if she pretends she doesn't. I walk into the store and immediately a middle aged woman in uniform approaches and asks if I'm looking for anything specific. The place is already full and a group of girls turn their gaze towards me.
"Be honest. If someone was to give you something that would make your entire world, what would it be?"
The woman cocks her head, deep in thought. "Something with an engraved message. It's personal that way."
I slowly nod. "What would you recommend?"
"Whatever you think she looks best in. A bracelet, necklace, earrings, a watch?"
"Necklace is fine. How long will it take to engrave something?"
"A week. We're very busy right now." Fuck. That means it'll be ready two days after her birthday.
At least then she wouldn't expect anything. "Okay fine."
"Do you know what you'd like to engrave on it?"
"Can you give me a second to think?" She nods and instructs me to go to the front desk when I'm ready.
What would make her smile every time she looks at my present?
Hope's POV
A day after Hope's birthday
The nondescript black car pulls up a block away from Damien's house. It is evening, sometime around 7 pm. We finally agreed on a simple dinner, which I insisted should be somewhere quiet after he started naming very public and very fancy restaurants. Because we decided to have it simple, I was wearing a burgundy, silky loose dress that rested on my thigh and black platform heels. My dad had told my detail to make sure I leave at 12, which was longer than we usually spent together so I didn't mind.
The previous day was spent at a surprise party my school organized so my friends and I didn't go to dinner as planned. It was awful, I had to stand there and pretend I was enjoying it while I would run to the bathroom every half hour to shed tears. I even threw up when I got home but convinced my mom it was the food.
"Hi." His eyes and smile is bright when he opens the door. My breath hitches at the bridge of my throat.
"Hi," I say breathlessly. I try to remember to swallow.
Damien is in a black tux and matching shoes, his hair styled messy. He looks sexier, if that was even possible, and my heart wasn't taking it lightly. It didn't want to.
He smirks when he notices my reaction. "See something you like?"
"You should wear suits more," I admit after clearing my throat, running a hand across the muscular frame of his chest.
"You should show your legs more," He says, stepping onto the porch and moving closer to me. I lean forward and put a hand on his chest to stop him from coming further, my heart hammering in my chest. I'm sure I look ridiculous, but I wouldn't want Sean and Reynolds witnessing what he's about to do.
"Pervert," I grin at him, not budging from my position.
He shrugs. "I'll take it." I laugh as he pulls me inside.
My breath betrays me again. I stand there with a gaping mouth as he closes the door snickering. The entire place is dark, all the curtains drawn up. The only light source was dimly lit candles placed on the floor against the walls, the tables, the counters, everywhere.
"I know you hate cheesy so I made it as cheesy as possible."
I smile, a sudden giddiness taking over me. "I thought we were going out?"
"I wanted you for myself," He says, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. "Surprise."
"It's beautiful," I whisper as if talking loudly would ruin the moment.
"I know." He chuckles and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Come on." He leads me to the table and I frown. The table is already set up with spaghetti and meatballs, a salad bowl, and champagne flutes, the steam of the food rising above the candles.
"You made this?" My voice carries a tone of astonishment. But I can't help it. Damien couldn't cook to save his life.
"Yep. From scratch." After narrowing my eyes on him, he adds, "Okay I had help. My friend Juanita made sure I didn't put too much salt or seasoning or whatever. But I did most of the work. It wasn't too hard." He says scratching his eyebrow, a smile playing his lips.
"Baby, I'm proud of you." I grin at him.
He steps closer to me. "Call me baby again." His voice is low and my breath catches in response.
"If you're lucky," I whispered back. I take a seat without waiting for him, snickering under my breath.
He takes a seat but he's silent. When I look up, Damien is staring at me with an intense look in his eyes, the way he does when he's in deep thought.
"What?" I whisper.
"I... nothing." He lets out a nervous laugh and scratches his eyebrow.
"Are you nervous?" I say, noticing his habit.
"I don't want to mess this up. You never had a proper birthday so..."
I shake my head, confused. "You've never messed anything up."
But he looks down when I say it and I put my hand on him. What's gotten into him? But when he looks up, he's smiling.
He fills the flutes. "It's ginger ale," He answers before I can ask. "I know how terrified you are of alcohol."
"I'm not afraid! I'm just... waiting until 21 like the 5% of the population are doing."
"Whatever you say." He shakes his head, a glint in his eye. "Eat." He instructs.
"Yes, sir." He watches me intently as I roll spaghetti onto my fork and take a bite. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
"Are you sure you cooked this? This is the best spaghetti I've ever had!" I say through a mouthful of food.
He laughs in surprise. "Juanita bought her own seasonings. Some stuff they use in Mexico."
"It's amazing," I repeat.
"I never fail to impress, huh?"
I shake my head. He grins at me and bites his lip as he spoons the spaghetti around his fork. "Since you like cheesy," He says as he raises the fork to my mouth. An ugly giggle escapes my lips as he sticks the food into my mouth.
With my mouth full of food and Damien looking at me the way a man should, I almost say the three words as they spring to my mind. But I stop for three reasons.
One, What if he doesn't like me? Given his history with girls, he isn't the type to even have feelings much less any more than that. So this definitely has to be a slow process for him.
And two, I'm afraid of rejection. My feelings for him are too strong, and I know if he doesn't like me I'll be hurt badly. And to me, ignorance is bliss. I'd rather be with him without expressing my true feelings than to be with him knowing that he doesn't love me and probably never will. I wouldn't be able to get pass it.
And three, it isn't fair. He doesn't know me, the real me. He only thinks he does. So how can I expect him to love me when he doesn't know who I am?
Damien's POV
I never knew I could be so happy watching someone else enjoying food. We fed each other like some corny couples from a movie I'd never watch. And I loved every second of it. I love her. I do. I almost told her, watching a beautiful sight sitting in front of me. But I didn't. I wanted her to see it for herself, when she sees the necklace I bought for her. So I clamp my mouth shut and pretended that these feelings were merely just affection and nothing more.
Luckily, her dad allowed her to stay until midnight. I know how unreasonably strict her dad is so this was an actual big deal.
"I've got you something," I say when we clear our plates.
She rolls her eyes. "Damien, I told you not to get me anything." She was actually serious?
"You're weird. I'll be right back." I quickly grab the first of her present off my dresser. She's in the kitchen when I get back. I hide the present behind my back and frown at her. She's washing the dishes looking like it's her favorite thing in the world.
"I have a dishwasher, you know."
She looks up as if she just notices me. "I know. I haven't done dishes in a long time. It's weird because I hate washing them. But I kind of miss it." She laughs and my frown grows deeper.
"Who washes the dishes?"
"Oh we have... a dishwasher. So my mom just puts everything in there."
"Okay, weirdo." I laugh as she puts the last plate on the dish rack. I notice she hasn't washed the flutes. She fills it up with ginger ale and walks over to the table in front of the couch.
My breath hitches as she bends over to place it down. Even in terrible lighting, she's a gorgeous sight. Her burgundy dress is a bit shorter than what she usually wears. It isn't right above her knees, it rests halfway up her thighs. The dress is silky and hanging loose, showing off every bit of her curves. With every walk she makes, the dress shifts.
"Beautiful," I whisper.
"What?" She says turning.
Instead of answering her, I bring out the single rose from behind me. Her grin is wide as she takes it. She cocks her head when she notices the note hanging from the stem.
You're my true meaning of happiness. Thank you for being you.
Her smile slowly drops and she looks down at it for an awkwardly long time.
"Do you like it?" I say, hesitantly. Was the note too corny? I thought she would like it.
I tilted my head to try to gage her reaction. Suddenly she leans up and pull my neck towards her, kissing me. My thoughts dissolve as I close my eyes, relishing in the taste of her tongue, cold and sweet. I grab her waist, my hand slipping against the silky texture of her dress.
I push my lips against hers and pull her waist towards me as I walk backwards and fall onto the couch. She climbs on me, her knees on both sides of my legs. She grabs my hair and pull it backwards so my head is tilted up. The kiss is painstakingly slow and sensual, triggering my chest to heave quickly. I slowly move my hand down her sides, grabbing the back of her curls with one hand and pushing it towards me in an attempt to deepen the kiss.
I notice my erection growing and I take my other hand and place it on her thigh, running it up underneath her dress. She gasps into my mouth and rocks against me, pushing my erection into her. It elicits a moan from her and I can't get enough. I want her. I want her now. More than ever.
My hand trail up farther, past her lacy underwear, around and past her stomach, pushing against her breasts. She moans again and a groan escapes my mouth. Fuck.
I hesitate. Hope made it clear she isn't ready for sex. She wanted it with someone special, someone she was serious with. But our relationship is far more serious than when she first told me that.
"What do you want?" I whisper against her lips. She doesn't answer but she tightens her grip in my hair.
I move my lips from hers and suck at her neck. She moans and gasps and tightens her grip even further, making my abdomen burn and my dick on fire. I want to mark her. Remind her she's mine. I suck even harder and she shifts again. I'm horny now and I want to fuck her but I don't know what she wants. So I continue my marking, praying that I don't release right here and now. I find her lips again and this time it's desperate and needy. I squeeze her breasts again and she moans. I start to play with the straps sliding it down her shoulders. My fingers shake slightly with anticipation.
Suddenly she pulls away, her lips resting against mine. I tilt up to look at her.
"Wait." Her eyes are closed, her chest heaving heavily. She bites her lip and I trace it with my thumb.
"You really know how to kill a moment." I half-joke. But her eyes are still closed and I can tell she's overthinking.
"We don't have to. If you're not ready, it's okay," I reluctantly say.
She opens her conflicted eyes. "I... okay." She wraps her arms around me and lay her head on my chest.
I close my eyes in disappointment. I waited 6 months. 6 fucking months. I can wait a little longer.
"Let's not do that again. I don't think I can hold back next time." I admit. She laughs nervously and nods.
"How come you never celebrate your birthday? Even when your school threw you one, you said you hated it."
She doesn't answer me. I can't see her face to understand, so I just run my hand through her hair.
After a long while, she says in a muffled voice. "My cousin died the day before my birthday. She was planning a surprise party for me even though she thought I didn't know about it. The day after my birthday, I was at her funeral. The man who killed her killed himself in his cell. He never showed remorse. It was the worst week of my life."
"I'm sorry for bringing it up." Nice one, Damien. The night isn't even over and you've got her crying.
"It's okay." She releases a shaky breath.
After another moment of silence, she says, "She loved movies. Every time I watch a movie, I feel like she's there watching it with me." I continue to stroke her hair. "You know the bad dreams I get? It's always her. The night she died."
"We don't have to talk about it," I say quickly as I realize she's full on crying now. I wince, hating every second of it. I don't want her feeling this way. I wish I knew what I could do.
Her crying eventually turn into sniffs and after a while, I start to feel lethargic, given the warmth of her body against mine and the dim lighting.
She pulls away and looks at me, trailing her fingers down my cheek. Her nose is pink and her eyes are swollen. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."
She gives me a slow smile and rolls her eyes. "Here you go again, lying to make me feel better," She sniffs.
I feign confusion and shake my head. "I swear it works every time." She laughs and the moments passes as I watch her watching me. My breath is shallow, my heart beating fast. I can stare at her all day and not see a flaw. She's perfect. Each and every way.
"Get up," I reluctantly say after a while.
"Why?" She stands up anyway. I take the speakers on the shelf next to the TV and click play. Juanita had made a playlist of songs that would be good for slow dancing. I don't want her to dwell on her feelings tonight. I want to make her feel special.
Niall Horan's song, This Town pours through the small speakers. She laughs as I pull her hand toward me. She rests her head on my chest as we sway to the music. "I love this song," She says surprised. "I didn't know you listen to Niall."
"I don't," I admit. "Juanita made a playlist. She wouldn't shut up about this song. She made sure it was the first on the list."
She peers up at me. "Is she your ex?"
I scoff. "Hell no. I mean... well, we had a thing but it was so long ago. She's obsessed with Carlos now."
She bites her lip and avoids my gaze. "Well tell her I said thank you," She mumbles.
"Hey, she's just a friend. We were a thing for like two weeks and that was years ago. She's a real piece of work, if you ask me."
She's quiet for a few minutes before she asks, "Does she know who I am?"
"No one knows except Zach. Well they know I have a girlfriend but they don't know who you are. I don't want them talking about you."
"Why would they?"
"I never had a girlfriend, remember? Most of them think I'm making it up. If I tell them who you are, they'd never leave you alone."
She smiles up at me. "You're the sweetest guy I've ever met. Which is something because you've never been sweet a day in your life."
"With you, everything is natural."
"You've been watching Hallmark movies behind my back, haven't you?" She accuses. The song is over and a soft female's voice start playing.
"Of course not. They're terrible. Don't let me get started on their Christmas movies."
She quietly laughs before her expression turns serious. "Can I ask you a question? A very hypothetical question?"
"You just did," I retort.
She rolls her eyes. "Hypothetically speaking, if a really close friend hides a large part of who they are and tells you a long while later, how would you react?"
I think about it for a moment. "It depends why they hid it, I guess."
"Maybe they want to be someone else?"
I shrug. "Then I guess I wouldn't care. I think all of us want to be someone else deep down. No one is ever satisfied about who they are, even though another person wouldn't see it that way. And vice versa." She looks up at me in surprise and kisses me. "What's with this supposedly hypothetical question?"
"Just something I've been thinking about."
"Is it about you?" I ask her.
"What if it is?"
I lean into her and smirk. "Then I'd like to get to know this mystery person you're hiding."
She seems happy by my response. We spend the night talking and sharing the tub of ice cream I'd bought. She was whining to me a couple of days ago that her dad had stolen her three Haagen Daaz she'd stashed in the back of the freezer and only shared with his wife. So I decided to buy a tub to make her happy. It obviously worked.
Before we know it, our conversation takes up on my bed with her arms and legs intertwined with mine. I don't realize I'm sleeping until the sound of a phone ringing drags me out of slumber. I turn to see Hope sleeping but I can't waste time to admire the sight because her phone is ringing too loud. I quickly grab it off the dresser.
"Hello?" I say softly. I try my best to disentangle myself but she only tightens her arm around me. I let out a laugh and then clamp my mouth shut so she wouldn't wake up.
"Is this Damien McIntire?" A deep voice says on the other end of the phone.
"Uh... yes." My voice is low as I glance over. She hasn't moved since a second ago when I checked up on her. "Is this Hope's father?"
I look at the caller ID. It says Reynolds with an eye roll emoji. I wonder if he knows about it. "This... is him." He answers. Reynolds must be his first name then. Weird. "Can I please speak to Hope?"
"Mr. Madison, hi. She's sleeping. I'm hoping you can allow her to stay the ni-"
"No." His voice is clipped and sharp.
I swallow. "I'd hate to wake her up."
"I'd hate for you to try anything." He seems to be mocking me. I frown at the phone.
"I'd never do that. I love her." My voice comes off as harsh. My eyes widen as I realize what I had just confessed. I turn to look at her, but she's still sleeping.
"You what?" Even he sounds surprised. It's like he knows me or something. I can tell he's amused when he whispers something to someone.
"Um... please don't tell her. I haven't had the chance to tell her myself," I say panicked.
He isn't fazed. "Wake her up. Her driver's waiting." He hangs the phone without waiting for an answer. Asshole.
I reluctantly wake her up, making sure to take my time as I admire her soft features. She opens her eyes and frown. "What time is it?"
I check the time and frown. It is 12:01 and after a quick check, I see that he called exactly at 12. He takes strict on a whole other level. I am also please to know she hasn't removed my fingerprint off her phone.
"Your dad literally called at 12 on the dot. He's crazy, if you ask me."
She quickly sits up and grabs her phone. She seems panicked. "My dad? What did he say?"
"He basically thought I would try something while you're asleep and told me to wake you up. He seems fun."
She laughs when she looks at her screen and clicks the power button. "I hate to leave."
"Maybe he'll change his mind when we have that dinner."
"I forgot about that. I'll ask him about it. But if you come with us to Martha's Vineyard we can have the whole day to ourselves." She grins and I can tell she's shy by the implication in it.
"Can't wait," I say my voice low as I run my hand along her thigh. Her breath hitches before pulling me in and kissing me.
I reluctantly pull away after a minute. "You'd better leave before your dad kills me."
"I'd pay to see that happen," She jokes.
"Hope?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I take you home next time? I would love to do that for you. Tell your driver to relax."
She smiles and gives me a kiss. "Next time," She promises.
*****
I swear I intended this chapter to be short. Oh well.
Btw, this book is a bit too happy isn't it? 😉
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