DRAWN (25 page)

          Bloody arsehole knows I’m going to keep the video.

          I mean, come on. Yuki. Me. Secret. Video. Does that not spell totally keep-worthy for you?

          The elevator doors open at the tenth floor and Yuki leads me out of it. I’m a trembling mess, but I’m trembling for all the wrong reasons. By the time Yuki opens the door, I just want us to hop on the bed and start making the blasted video.

This must be how actors feel.

Well, maybe not.

          “
Senpai
---” 

          “Can I take a quick shower?” I blurt out in a whisper. I need some time to breathe and get this all in. Yuki. Me. Secret. Video. My knees threaten to give out as the words keep hammering my brain.

          Yuki blinks. “Uhh…okay,
senpai
.”

          I take my time showering.

          Yuki. Me. Secret. Video.

          Obviously, this is my first---I mean, my
only
video. It’s the only video of this kind I’m going to do. And I mean that, really.

Under the blast of water from the shower head, it’s hard not to fantasize about what would happen and I keep wondering what Yuki would be up to by the time I open the door and get back to the room.

          Maybe he’d be, umm, naked?

          “Senpai!” Yuki calls for me impatiently from the other side, almost on cue, like he knows I’ve been stripping him in my mind. It makes me jump like a guilty startled rabbit caught between the crosshair of a shooting rifle, and I accidentally hit the bloody shower head.      

“I’m not yet done,” I yell back while rubbing my head. Again. Does this really have to happen to me all the time?

          “You don’t need to shave---”

          Excuse me? Am I that hairy?

          “---down there!”

          Yeeeargh.

          “PISS OFF and let me shower in peace!” I turn the knob till the very end, hoping the full blast of the shower can drown my embarrassment. Ha! Shave! Down There! He has got to be bloody kidding me. Right?

          He has to. I don’t think I’m ready for that. Grabbing the towel hanging from the glass door, I briskly rub my body dry and squeeze out excess water from my hair. I brush my teeth – twice – and, after a moment’s hesitation, I gargle, too.

          “Yuki?” I ask, still in my underwear, staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror. I pinch my stomach, grimacing at the softness of it. Will a hundred sit-ups a day really do the trick or do I have to swallow rocks just to get toned abs?

          “Yuki?”

          But I still don’t get an answer. 

          Hastily slipping back into my clothes, worried at Yuki’s silence because that’s
never
a good sign, I quickly unlock door and – gasp.

          Yuki is sleeping, half-lying against the pillow behind the back, legs stretched out on the bed, shoes kicked off carelessly on the floor.

          Normally, this would be very insulting since a) we’re alone and b) inside a room that has a bed, but I keep remembering how tired he looked the whole morning and how furious and frustrated he was when he told me about his day.

          Yuki lets out a snore, shifting to his side, and something about the ridiculously funny and totally unexpected sound tugs my heart strings so that it’s practically playing a blasted symphony.

          Quietly padding into the room, I switch off all lights except for the wall lamps bordering the mirror across the bed. Standing at the side of the bed, I look down at Yuki’s sleeping form and wonder if I should get into bed---

         
Nah.

         
That would have been a piece of cake to do in my fantasies, but outside it?

          Nah.

          Grabbing my sketch pad from my bag, I tuck myself in the armchair and start to draw. Yuki looks amazingly peaceful, and with his expressive baby blues hidden, it’s easy to pretend I’m seeing a different side to Yuki, one that totally loves me back.

“How do you feel about making out in a car,
senpai
?” Yuki’s way to beat the boredom of traffic jams is to make me choke to death. Refreshed after his three-hour nap, Yuki looks like his usual incredibly good-looking self in a hotel-ironed collared shirt with green and black stripes and dark gray jeans made extra sexy by its embroidered graffiti-like design – the kind that makes you want to dig deep into the pockets and
squeeze
.

          I’m glad his nap’s restored his godly looks, really. I just wish it hasn’t also rejuvenated the less angelic side of him.

          “Not good,” I wheeze out. Normally, guys would just turn the radio on or play with their iPhones if they’re cooped up inside a car because of traffic. Then again, Yuki’s not normal. Why do I keep forgetting that?

          When he raises a brow, I decide to skip the bit where I pretend I’m not turned on by his suggestion and just go straight to what’s glaringly obvious. “For bloody sake, Yuki, the windows of your car
are not tinted
!” Worse, we’re in the middle of a bloody three-lane hellhole, stuck between an old Chevy van and a tourist bus. Their passengers would definitely have the best seats in the house if I let Yuki get away with another one of his tease-me-to-death ploys.

          He smiles. “Ah, but
senpai
, there are different ways to make out in a car, you know.”

          There are?

          Amazed and curious, I ask the question again, out loud this time.

          “Oh, yes.” His baby blues focus on me, knowingly. “Do you want me to tell you,
senpai
?” Yuki acting coy is so delicious it gets my heart racing in a now stupidly familiar ba-thumping fashion.

          Must. Resist. Temptation.

          I last three seconds before I again give myself up to the dark side. “Yes.”

          “First,
senpai
, it requires
a lot
of imagination.”

          Oh. Does that mean no kissing and touching at all? Trying not to sound a little – okay, more than a little – disappointed, I ask, “And then what?”

          “I will tell you how I want to touch you, and you will touch yourself the way I want to.”

          Here we bloody go again.

          “I am not going to do that!” This time, I know I mean it. I’m pretty almost sure I mean it.

          He smirks. “Don’t worry,
senpai
. We’re not going to reach that far.” Yuki pauses. “I don’t think we may ever reach that far,
senpai
.”

          We won’t? Why won’t we?

          “It’s just so easy for you to get an orga---”

          “Please DO NOT say anymore.” I can’t help glaring when I mutter, “I thought guys were supposed to be happy about that.”

          “They are. I am. Just be sure it is for me alone,
senpai
.”

          I gape at Yuki, almost unsure if I heard him correctly. “Do you think I would do stuff like this with
anyone
?”

          “No,” Yuki answers right away. “But as for your naughty little mind,
senpai
…”

          Beet red now that I understand what he’s warning me against, I mumble, “I
don’t…
other guys.” He should get that. If he doesn’t get that, I’ll kill him before he kills me with embarrassment.

          “I’m glad to hear that,
senpai
.”

          “Arse.”

          But Yuki only smiles. As the car ahead of us starts to move, Yuki changes gears and without glancing at me, he asks, “Ready to play,
senpai
?”

          I plan to say yes. I’m all for saying yes, but what I end up saying instead is, “I have another twist.” I panic the moment the words are out. Why is it with Yuki I’m both myself and
not
myself at the same time? If this is what love is all about, it’s bloody stupid.

          As traffic crawls back to a snail’s space, Yuki leans against his side of the door, facing me fully with a raised brow. “I’m all ears,
senpai
.”

          That makes the two of us.

          Completely winging it, I say slowly, “The twist is…for everything you make me do…I will…” I pause. What do I want from Yuki?

          And it comes to me.

          “I will…ask you a question and you have to answer it honestly.”

          Yuki’s visibly surprised although he’s doing his best not to show it.

          “What kind of questions,
senpai
?”

          “About you. I want to know more about you---” Gah! This is so bloody painfully embarrassing I have to look away from him. “---so I can flesh out your character in my
manga
.” I try to say the words like I got it straight out from a science textbook. “All facts and stuff,” I add, hoping I sound convincing.

          Yuki’s fingers curl and uncurl around the steering wheel reflexively. Movement on the road resumes, and for a while his concentration is on the road, leaving me to deal with the torture of waiting.

          “Okay,
senpai
,” he says when we stop again. “You ask first.”

          Bloody hell, he agreed?

          I ask the first thing that comes to my mind. “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

          He answers just as easily. “None. Never.” And without missing a beat, Yuki adds, “Kick off your shoes,
senpai
.”

          I almost expire in relief. Really, shoes? This was going to be so easy. But just to be sure, I kick off only one of my shoes.

          “One at a time,” I say defensively when Yuki’s brow shoots up.

          He smirks. “Ah,
senpai
, don’t play that game with me.”

          Oh, shite.

          I start to take off the other shoe but Yuki shakes his head, baby blues gleaming in a way that has my toes curling and my nerves jumping at the same time.

          “Ask your next question,
senpai
.”

          “Do you, umm, have to care for a girl before you shag her?” I hold my breath.
Please say yes, please say yes, please say

          “No.”

          “
Are you serious
?”

          Yuki smiles. “That makes two questions for you,
senpai
.”

          “Are you cra---” I shut up with a scowl when I see Yuki’s smile widen. Bloody, bloody, bloody hell. The arse’s tricked me.

          “Now,
senpai,
be a good girl and take off your other shoe then…” He glances at me under his lashes.

          It’s the first time I’ve seen him do that, and my body immediately reacts, tensing, shortly before an awfully familiar sensation pools between my thighs.

          Oh, shite.

          “The bra,
senpai
.”

          I gnash my teeth together to keep the word “seriously?” from coming out. “Arse,” I mutter as I unclip my bra from the back with trembling hands, and slowly pull it off. For a moment, I’m confused, embarrassment forgotten as I wonder where I should put my bra.

          “In the backseat,
senpai
.”

          Still avoiding Yuki’s gaze because I don’t want to start blushing again, I carefully fold it to fours, making sure to tuck the straps out of view. I’m hoping it’s enough to make my bra look like anything but, just in case someone happens to glance inside Yuki’s bloody car with its bloody tint-less windows.

          “Next question.” Yuki sounds amazingly cheerful, the bloody sod.

          “Why is your mom mad at you?” I wanted to get back at him, but when I see Yuki’s mask slip into place I want to headbutt the dashboard. Gah! I’m such a bloody, selfish idiot.

          “You don’t have to---”

          “A deal is a deal.” Yuki’s toneless voice makes me want to curl into another ball of shame. Why am I such a big freaking B-word today, first with Jace then now with Yuki? This is just not good at all.

          “She’s mad,
senpai
, because I caught her in bed with someone else when I was eleven.” Before I can even pick my jaw off the floor, he says, “In our house.”

          I almost fly off my seat in utter rage at what he’s revealed. “And your dad
forgave
her?”

          “No,
senpai
. He didn’t believe me when I tried telling him about it. She made him think I was lying because I was such a spoiled brat I couldn’t handle sharing my dad with her.”

          “How could he believe her so easily?”

          “He
loves
her.” Yuki spits the word out like it’s too ghastly to pass through his lips.