5 ~ Move!

I've always loved the smell of meat cooked with wine, but today it's terribly hot and I can't wait

to leave the kitchen.

In fact, since I came here I have never gone for a walk in the surrounding area, and it's also very close to the sea.

As soon as I put out the fire I start to turn around, but I feel a presence behind me, so I suddenly turn my back to the cooking area to see if it's just my imagination:

"Move!" - I make a grimace of disgust when I recognize his severe tone: just hearing his voice literally makes my blood boil in my veins for how much I hate this bodyguard.

"Can't you see I'm working?" - I turn my back him again without even watching him in the eye: he doesn't deserve my attention or kindness.

"As you want." - he whispers, and then approaches my body slowly, getting so much close that I can hear his sighs among my

hair.

I start to walk away, but his arms trap me on the kitchen island as he prepares his lunch

alone.

"Let me go!" - I say with an annoyed and alarmed tone, even though the most idiot and irresponsible part of me doesn't really want him to obey to my order.

I feel an electric discharge go through my whole body, as his back adheres to mine and pushes me

voluntarily against the island.

I involuntarily sigh at that move as he reaches out to grab the spoon on

shelf: his muscles contract on my shoulder blades and just the idea that our bodies are separated only by the

tissue of our clothes drives me crazy and makes me force myself to get away from him as soon as possible.

Before moving away he brushes my side with one hand, and then leaves me free to choke for the embarrassment, while I see him turn his huge back to me.

As he walks away from the kitchen, I watch him take a proud position with the corner of my eye: only now I understand that he doesn't wear his uniform right now, but a simple shirt with short sleeves and too tight, while his

legs are faxed by a pair of short jeans.

I shake my head, trying to erase that image from my head: James is not the kind of man I would introduce in my life, neither as friend nor as a simple collegue.

I've never liked grumpy guys, in fact I've always been far from them, but this man so bossy,

so asshole, so ... damn threatening.

I look around, feeling observed, in fact I meet the gaze of a waitress, who has remained with

a spoon in the air, watching me from the other side of the kitchen and reminding me I'm not alone.

I wonder how much she has seen so far, but then I just decide to avoid her and leave the noisy room behind me in order to reach mine.

"Hello, beautiful!" - I greet my reflection as I pass in front of the mirror, and then

grab a clothespin inside the first drawer and make a high ponytail.

I give up on making a perfect ponytail after several tries and let the unruly locks fall on me

face.

I close the door behind me and walk to the nearest exit door, without going upstairs: I don't want to risk

meet Edward, I wouldn't have the courage to talk to him and explain what I did yesterday. I should prepare a long monolog, since his father didn't want to help me.

I blush again at the memory of his eyes on my body, while I walk away from the villa with the intention

to return only at the time of my turn to cook.

I can already feel the fresh air of the sea as soon as I get close to the road in front of the villa and glimpse the waves in distance.

I've always preferred the

mountain to the sea, actually, but Torrence prides itself on its turquoise sea and sincerely, if I had to

to choose whether to live in this Los Angeles district or return to my parents in Compton, I would definitely live here, probably buying a small house close the beach.

It's almost time for lunch, but the urge to take a stroll around the city outweighs anything, so I decid to following the sound of the waves, and then take a deep breath when finally the air becomes fresher.

I cross the street five meters past the zebra crossing, as I

usually do, carrying on this useless rebellion against the rules of the road.

The third year of high school I took my first failure in civics, for not having memorized the

road symbols, so since then I have never respected neither the traffic lights nor the pedestrian crossings,

although in reality all I get in response are honking sounds and the risk of life.

Nonetheless, I walk with my head held high, crossing the cars waiting in line because of the typical traffic of the noon, so after few minutes I finally step on the sand.

At this time, fortunately, the beach is almost deserted, if it wasn't for some kids playing in the water.

I bring the unruly locks of my hair back, running a hand over them and then continue walking without a real destination.

My thoughts take me everywhere, from my college to my parents, to the dinner I'm obliged to have tonight.

I try to think what to tell him without making him angry for the waste of time he's having with me.

"Er ..." - I clear my throat, looking around to make sure no one is looking at me.

"Edward, listen ..." - I begin, but then I realize that I have already made a mistake, so I slap my forehead and insult myself mentally.

I can't call him 'Edward',

he's not my best friend, he's probably the most powerful 30-year-old man in Los Angeles.

"Mr. Edward, I must confess a misunderstanding. I am not who you think I am ... ».

Damn it! I would never be able to use the subjunctive, among other things I would lock myself to 'Mr Edward', indeed to 'Edward', and I would stammer

worse than a child who has just started talking.

I roll my eyes and snort, as I realize that I have strayed far enough, so I decide to

go back before I get late.

I check the time on my cell phone to realize that I have to hurry, so I fasten my walk, trying to convince myself that is not necessary to run, nut as soon as I turn back I listen to someone call from behind:

«Ester?» - I avoid turning around as I usually do, spying on curious people and continue walking to reach the villa as soon as possible without getting distracted

«Ester!» - this time the voice gets closer and closer, so much that after few seconds I feel a hand resting on my

shoulder.

I turn slightly frightened, thinking most likely they have taken me for someone else, but as soon as I turn my heart rises in my throat and my eyes widen, while Edward is standing in front of me breathless, as if he had run:

"Ester, I called you before, but you didn't listen." - he reaches me out and grabs my hand while

I remain dazed and watch him kiss my fingers.

Who is Ester?

I would like to ask him, but I answer myself, since he took me for a model, therefore called Ester.

"Hello to you!" - I hurry, forgetting for a moment to breathe and trying to keep calm in order to make a normal conversation with the man of my dreams.

"I was expecting to meet you tonight, but apparently destiny wanted to give us a nice surprise." - the sound

of his voice is so beautiful and his eyes so deep that I forget what I wanted to tell him,

so I try to formulate a sentence with a complete meaning.

"I guess... were you running?"- I quickly adjust my tail as we start walking along the beach.

"Yes, this body needs some exercise." - he boasts, showing the slight hints of muscles around his

arm.

I lose myself in staring at his tanned skin, while his hair is perfectly worn

back: it is beautiful even with the skin wet with sweat!

"If you want, I'll take you home, so you can reciprocate. Then I'll take you to a restaurant instead of my house.

Someone like you deserves much more than a simple dinner."- he winks at me, while I melt

literally, but then I realize his proposal and my expression turns serious.

My home is the 5 × 7m room on the first floor of his house!

"Um, no, don't bother you!" - I hurry to refuse, and then continue- "I have the apartment nearby, it won't take long

to get ready, at eight I'm in front of your house. "- I don't know whether or not to regret giving addressing him with 'you' and

especially for having shamelessly lied to him.

I should tell him the truth already in stead of waiting for dinner!

"At least give me the address and I'll pick you up." - he says, while I already think of another lie to tell.

"I don't like being treated like a little princess, it's one of my principles, please don't be offended." -

I bite my tongue without looking him in the eye.

I jump when his hand lands on my shoulder.

"You are an independent woman and I like it." - he says, then come closer and leave a kiss on my cheek.

"I'll wait for you, then!" - I turn my back to him as fast as possible, while I mentally slap myself and try not to distract thinking about his lips on my cheek.

What is done is done!

Now, the question is: how do I ask that old woman for permission?

And then what do I wear?

Being a model maybe he expects a lot of Gucci or Dolce & Gabbana, but the best I have is a short dress by Marc

Jacobs and a suit by Oscar de la Renta that I borrowed my best friend.

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