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Chapter no 34 – WREN

A Million Kisses In Your Lifetime

I HAVE NEVER LIEDย to my parents before, until I met Crew. Now Iโ€™m sneaking around and hiding what Iโ€™m doing from my mom and dad, specifically my father, because I know he would be incredibly disappointed in me.

Worse, heโ€™d flat out tell me no about this trip. Going away for the weekend with a boy, all alone?

Daddy would never let that happen.

Bringing up his contact info, I hit call and wait, holding the phone to my ear as I go to my closet and pull down the bag I use when I travel.

โ€œPumpkin, how are you?โ€ His voice is warm and edged with faint concern, which makes me feel guilty.

โ€œHi, Daddy.โ€

โ€œHow was your day? Howโ€™s school going? Glad the semester is almost over?โ€

โ€œDefinitely.โ€ I need to get this over with. โ€œUm, I wanted to ask you a question.โ€

โ€œWhat is it? Is everything okay?โ€

โ€œEverything is great,โ€ I reassure him. Heโ€™s been worried about me ever since the divorce announcementโ€”and retraction. โ€œA friend of mine invited

me to go on a trip this weekend.โ€

โ€œA trip? The weekend before finals? Are you sure thatโ€™s a smart idea?โ€ No, itโ€™s a terrible idea. And a wonderful one too.

โ€œIโ€™m ready for finals. I already completed one today,โ€ I tell him. โ€œI have an A in psychology.โ€

โ€œOf course you do.โ€ He says it as if he never had any doubt about my abilities. โ€œWhere are you going? Somewhere close?โ€

โ€œVermont.โ€

โ€œAre you driving? Another storm is coming in, you know. Itโ€™ll be dangerous on the roads. And who are you going with?โ€

โ€œMaggie.โ€ I close my eyes, praying he believes me. โ€œAnd weโ€™re flying. Her familyโ€”has a plane.โ€

I have no idea if thatโ€™s actually true. Maggieโ€™s family comes from money, but it might not be we-have-a-private-plane-type money.

โ€œOh. Well that should be safer if youโ€™re flying out tonight. The storm is coming in tomorrow.โ€

โ€œWeโ€™ll be careful, Daddy. We just want to get away for a bit. Relax before our intense finals week.โ€

โ€œAre you ready? Do you need to study?โ€

โ€œIโ€™ll be okay,โ€ I reassure him. โ€œReally. Can I go?โ€

Heโ€™s quiet for a moment, which makes me nervous. I start pacing around my room, afraid of his answer.

โ€œI normally would never allow something like this,โ€ he starts, getting my hopes up. โ€œBut youโ€™re almost eighteen. Almost done with high school. You deserve to have a little break. Especially since Veronica wasnโ€™t able to find proper accommodations for your birthday trip.โ€

Oh. Veronica. His assistant. The trip she was supposed to be planning for me, even though I wanted to do it. โ€œWhat do you mean, she wasnโ€™t able to

find proper accommodations?โ€

โ€œEverything I wanted for you was sold out or too expensive.โ€

Since when does expense matter to my father? I know I sound like a spoiled brat, but heโ€™s usually able to get me whatever I want, no matter the costโ€” save for that art piece I wanted so badly last year.

โ€œItโ€™s okay. This trip will be for my birthday,โ€ I tell him.

โ€œThen enjoy it, Pumpkin. We canโ€™t wait to see you next weekend. Your mother has held off decorating the house. She wants to wait until youโ€™re home.โ€

I frown. That doesnโ€™t sound normal either. Mother usually starts decorating right after Thanksgiving. Sheโ€™ll hire out a professional to come into the house and decorate with a theme in mind. It looks like something straight out of a magazine layout. Almost too beautiful to touch.

Iโ€™ve always sort of hated it.

โ€œIโ€™d love to help her,โ€ I say, meaning every word. I canโ€™t remember the last time we decorated for Christmas on our own. Do we actually even own any Christmas decorations anymore? Normally Mother pays for the decorating service, has the house featured in some sort of online publication for publicity, and then gives the decorations back when the holidays are over.

โ€œGood. Iโ€™ll let her know. Iโ€™ll tell her about your trip too,โ€ he says. โ€œHave fun, Pumpkin. Be safe.โ€

The guilt is real. โ€œI will. Thank you.โ€ โ€œLove you.โ€

โ€œLove you too.โ€

He ends the call, and I immediately text Crew. Me:ย I can go.

My phone starts ringing and I answer quickly.

โ€œPack your bags fast, Birdy. We need to be at the airport by five-fifteen,โ€ Crew explains.

Panic floods my veins. That means I donโ€™t have a lot of time. โ€œI can be ready by then, but I need to go so I can pack.โ€

โ€œIโ€™ll pick you up at your building in a half hour, okay?โ€ โ€œOkay. Sounds good.โ€

 

 

WE ARRIVE AT THE AIRPORT, with the plane scheduled to take off by five- forty-five. The flight to Vermont is only about thirty minutes. From there, we have a twenty-five-minute drive to our hotel, which fills me with both excitement and dread.

Will we have separate beds? Knowing Crew, I think thatโ€™s doubtful. Pretty sure Iโ€™m in over my head.

I enter the Gulfstream jet first, Crew right behind me, and weโ€™re greeted by a male flight attendant whoโ€™s dressed in a black suit.

โ€œMr. Lancaster, good evening. Welcome. My name is Thomas and Iโ€™ll be serving you and your guest during your flight.โ€ Thomas glances over at me, his gaze friendly. โ€œWould you care for anything to drink?โ€

โ€œIโ€™d like a glass of champagne,โ€ Crew answers Thomas. โ€œAnd you, Miss?โ€ Thomasโ€™s gaze meets mine.

โ€œSheโ€™ll have the same,โ€ Crew answers for me.

โ€œWill do.โ€ Thomas offers a little bow and leaves to go fix our drinks. I turn to Crew. โ€œChampagne?โ€

โ€œLetโ€™s celebrate.โ€ โ€œWeโ€™re underage.โ€

โ€œTheyโ€™re not going to check our IDs. My family owns the plane. We can do whatever we want,โ€ Crew says before he starts checking out the plane. โ€œThis is nice. I havenโ€™t been on this one.โ€

โ€œDo you fly private often?โ€ Heโ€™s right. This plane is very nice. The leather seats are a rich cream, clustered in pairs facing each other with a small table in between them. The windows are oval shaped and large, and thereโ€™s a cabinet with a TV.

โ€œMost of the time,โ€ Crew answers, and I marvel at the casualness of his answer. What it must be like, to come from such wealth. My family has plenty of money, but nothing like this.

I think of what my father said on the phone earlier and Iโ€™m starting to think we donโ€™t have as much money as I originally thought.

Thomas brings us our drinks and I take mine with a murmured thank you, settling into the seat closest to the window.

โ€œWeโ€™ll be taking off shortly,โ€ Thomas announces.

โ€œThank you, Thomas,โ€ Crew tells him, settling into the seat beside me and taking a sip from his glass.

I follow his lead, taking a tinier sip, the bubbles tickling my throat. My nose. It tastes almost bitter, but at least it goes down relatively smooth.

โ€œEver drank champagne before?โ€ Crew asks me. I slowly shake my head. โ€œI donโ€™t drink alcohol.โ€

โ€œI am thoroughly corrupting you.โ€ He clinks his glass to mine. โ€œWhat do you think?โ€

โ€œItโ€™s okay.โ€ I take another sip because heโ€™s watching me, and I make a face. โ€œIt tickles.โ€

โ€œItโ€™s the bubbles.โ€

I study the glass, the tiny bubbles in the golden liquid. โ€œI donโ€™t know if I like it.โ€

โ€œI bet youโ€™d prefer something sweet. A tropical drink.โ€

โ€œI drank lots of virgin pina coladas when we went on a Caribbean cruise a couple of years ago,โ€ I tell him, immediately feeling dumb for admitting that.

He sets his glass on the table in front of us and then takes mine from my hand, setting it on the table next to his. โ€œYouโ€™re nervous.โ€

This isnโ€™t asked as a question. He can sense it. I donโ€™t bother denying it either.

โ€œI am,โ€ I admit. โ€œI feel bad, lying to my father. Going away with you for the weekend. This is a huge step for me, Crew. I donโ€™t do things like this.โ€

โ€œI wonโ€™t push you for anything you donโ€™t want to do,โ€ he says, and I know he means it, but he also knows how easy it is for me to get carried away when Iโ€™m with him.

I know it too. Maybe I feel guilty because I want to do this. I want to run away with him for a couple of days and forget the rest of the world. Spend my time with Crew and no one else. I think of the day he showed up at the art gallery, and how much fun we had. Just the two of us.

I also think of the night in his room, when we kissed in his bed and he went down on me. That was fun too. A different kind of fun, something I want to explore more, if Iโ€™m being honest with myself.

I didnโ€™t know it could be like this. That he could feel like a friend and aโ€” lover, both at once. How much Iโ€™d want to spend time with him. How lonely I feel when heโ€™s not around. How happy I am when I first spot him, when he shines that smile on me, looks at me with those all-knowing blue eyes. Filled with a combination of affection and lust. Sometimes amusement. Sometimes irritation.

All I ever wanted was for someone to see me for who I really am. Everyone has their own expectations and eventually I fell into those roles, giving them what they needed from me. No one makes me feel like Iโ€™m just being myself when Iโ€™m with them.

Except for Crew.

โ€œWren.โ€ His deep voice pulls me from my thoughts and I glance up to find Crew watching me, his gaze steady, his expression serious. He touches my hair. Tucks a strand behind my ear, his fingers lingering. โ€œIโ€™m glad youโ€™re coming with me. You need to get away from reality for a little while.โ€

โ€œSo do you,โ€ I say, then I frown. โ€œWait. Iโ€™m still supposed to be mad at you.โ€

A sigh leaves him. โ€œWhat did I do now?โ€

โ€œYou never responded to my text this morning. I was worried about you. I didnโ€™t know where you were.โ€ Thatโ€™s another thing Iโ€™m not used to.

Caring about someoneโ€”a boyโ€”and wondering where he is when he doesnโ€™t reach out. I was truly worried. Even a little panicked. What if something happened to him? Something awful? The relief I felt upon first seeing him blotted out all of my anger and frustration.

But thatโ€™s all coming back to me now.

โ€œI was in the admin office all morning. I didnโ€™t get out of there until after lunch,โ€ he admits, reaching for his champagne glass and draining it, as if he needs the liquor coursing through him to even talk about it.

โ€œWhy were you in the office?โ€ I almost donโ€™t want to know.

โ€œI was being questioned by police detectives. About Figueroa.โ€ โ€œOh.โ€ That sounds ominous. โ€œAre they going to arrest him?โ€

โ€œProbably. Thatโ€™s half the reason I wanted to get away from here. Iโ€™m sick of dealing with that shit. Natalie and her lies. Figueroa and his sleazy ways.โ€ His upper lip curls with disgust. โ€œI canโ€™t stand him.โ€

โ€œForget about him.โ€ I pluck the empty glass from his fingers and return it to the table before I turn my full attention on him. โ€œLetโ€™s focus on the weekend. I donโ€™t even know where youโ€™re taking me exactly.โ€

โ€œManchester, Vermont. I hear they go all out for the holidays.โ€

โ€œReally?โ€ Excitement bubbles up inside me, much like the bubbles in my champagne glass. โ€œAnd thereโ€™s snow? Mountains? Pine trees?โ€

He nods. โ€œIโ€™ve never seen someone so enthusiastic for the mountains.โ€ โ€œIโ€™m a city girl. My family never goes to the mountains.โ€

โ€œNot even to Vail?โ€

โ€œYou sound like such a snob right now,โ€ I say with a soft laugh. โ€œAnd no, we donโ€™t go to Vail.โ€

โ€œYouโ€™re missing out then.โ€ He doesnโ€™t even seem offended by me calling him a snob. Not like I really meant it.

โ€œCan I ask you a question?โ€

Crew nods, turning in his seat so heโ€™s facing me more fully. โ€œDid you do this for me? This trip to Vermont? Or for yourself?โ€

He reaches for me, his hand landing on my cheek, his fingers stroking my skin, leaving me breathless. โ€œI did it for you.โ€

I blink at him, my eyes wanting to fill with tears, though I donโ€™t know why. โ€œI did it for us,โ€ he admits.

Just before he kisses me.

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