The Arrangement Anthology 2(156)

“Why do you keep asking me that? When do I joke about anything?” Sean’s voice is flat and serious.

“Touché.”

Sean jokes about very little. The times that I can get him to lighten up and I can see those darling dimples, and hear that hypnotic laugh—I live for those times. I guess that means he seriously wants me to marry Trystan Scott. I can’t imagine Trystan would agree to it, so I don’t freak out then and there. Besides, Sean can’t tell me who to marry.

I glance around the room and see the framed paper again. The center of my chest tugs. Looking at the framed diploma, reading my name in the center of the document, it’s just too much. Sean sees me glancing at it.

Gesturing, I say, “Thanks for this.”

It’s too little to say, I know that. But how do you thank someone for something like this? I would’ve gone on the rest of my life with no diploma, not knowing that I’d earned it or that I could even get it.

There are people that watch out for you, there are people that watch over you, and until this moment I thought they were gone. The night my parents died, I lost all that. I had no one watching out for me, no one watching over me.

Sometimes it seems like Sean wants to be that guy, while other times it seems like he wants to be a Ferro. I wish Sean would drop his guard long enough for me to see who he really is, long enough for him to see who he really is, because I don’t think he knows. I don’t think Sean sees the man that he’s become. He still thinks he’s the monster, the man that was scorned and mocked and ridiculed, the demon trapped in this godforsaken place. And I came along sprinting down Deer Park Avenue chasing my crap car, and his world changed.

Our worlds collided that night.

Sean turns his sapphire gaze my way. He says it like it’s nothing and everything at the same time. “You sold your soul for that diploma. I know how much it meant to you. It was the least I could do.” Sean reaches for the hem of his shirt and slips it over his head, tossing it onto his bed, before turning and offering me his hand.

I’m beyond shocked at the turn of events. I want to drop my guard but every time I’ve done it in the past, I got sucker-punched in the face. There are only so many more hits I can take before I become permanently ugly, inside and out.

I step toward him, uncertain. “And this bath of yours, is it part of the Barbie Dream House or are we going to fill a big ass box with water?”

Sean laughs out loud and grabs my wrist. Pulling me against his bare chest, he’s all smiles. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“You keep saying that.” I smile. It feels like I’m going to explode inside. When he first said those words I thought they were a warning that I should leave. I thought I was in danger, but I’m not—Sean is the one who is in danger as long as I’m around.

Sean answers, “Because it means you’re never going to get rid of me, and the crazy ass future you’ll have because of it. I’m worried and elated. It feels like I’m bursting with joy and being ripped apart with guilt. I should have rolled you out of the mansion, onto the doormat, and kicked the door shut.”

My eyes bug out. “That would have been pretty nasty, Sean Ferro. Rich people have some pretty crappy manners. It’s deplorable. What would your mother think?”

He smirks. “My mother taught me how to survive, and I’m going to teach you the same thing. But instead of being three steps ahead of you and leaving you in the dark, I’ll take you with me. Every step. Every second.”

Oh my God, he’s serious. Is this it? This is the moment I've been waiting for?

His jaw isn’t locked and his touch is light. I can see the conflict burning in his eyes, but he’s already decided.

I don’t know if I should die or dance. I’m still leery though, so much has happened. I still don’t trust him, not fully. The problem is that I want to. Coyly, I ask, “So what’s three steps from now?”

A wicked smile spreads across his lips. “You, naked, tied to the Tantra chair.”

“Dibs.”

“Dibs?” A curious expression slips across his face. “What is this, middle school? What are you calling dibs on?”

Grinning widely, I walk toward him. “Apparently our plans for the evening are going in the same direction, but on step three I planned on having you tied up on that chair. Dibs.” I move my mouth slowly, letting my lips hug the word. “I call dibs on the sex chair.”

Sean offers a crooked smirk and takes my hand, pulling me ahead, into another room. “Spray Start Car Girl, I knew you’d be awesome.” I follow him, laughing.