Chapter 4 After that, an entire week went by without further run-ins with Dorian. That seemed like a miracle considering we were living in the same house. But if this was the way it was going to be, I could definitely get used to it. It felt as quiet around here as it had before he came back. Dorian left super early for the office each day. I knew that because the garage door would wake me in the wee hours of the morning, since my bedroom was right above the bay where he parked. After the garage door shut, I'd roll over and go right back to sleep. I also heard him returning late most nights. I wasn't sure if he was working long hours, or if he'd been going out on the town. But if it weren't for the sound of that garage door, I might've doubted whether he was here at all. On Friday night, I felt restless and wanted to spend some time outside my bedroom. I'd overdone the hiding thing and had started to feel cooped up. I checked the garage for Dorian's Porsche, which was still gone, so I assumed I could safely watch a movie in the home theater down in the basement. Aunt Christina and I had watched movies once in a while down there when she was alive, and it seemed just the thing this evening. After popping some popcorn in the kitchen, I went downstairs to the theater. It was small compared to most of the other rooms in the house, but really nice, featuring three rows of purple velvet seats and recessed lighting that automatically dimmed when the screen was activated. There were also vintage movie posters hanging on the walls. Benjamin had showed me how to work the sound system, which could be controlled from a laptop. After looking up the instructions I'd saved on my phone, I called up the movie I'd chosen for myself tonight, Pulp Fiction. The Royale with Cheese scene had started when the theater door suddenly opened. I straightened in my seat and reached for the remote to pause the movie. Shit. Dorian stood in the doorway. But that wasn't the worst part. He was with a woman. They must've wanted to watch a movie. "Oh...hey." I waved awkwardly. She was blonde and wearing a form-fitting dress. "Who is she?" his date asked. "This is Primrose. She's..." He paused. "I'm his...stepcousin." Stepcousin? Really? I barely know the guy. But technically, I guessed it was true. Dorian narrowed his eyes. "Primrose is an artist staying here at the house, I was going to say. She also happens to be the niece of my deceased father's late wife." Her eyes widened. "You live here?" Apparently, she couldn't hear very well. "Temporarily, yes," I told her. "My aunt invited me to stay here while I attend Orion Art Institute. Dorian was kind enough to allow me to continue the arrangement." Picking a stray piece of popcorn off my chest, I added, "I didn't realize you were home tonight, Dorian. I wouldn't have come down here if I'd known." "We were just gonna watch a movie," the woman said. I stood. "I'll get out of your way." "No." Dorian held his palm out. "You were here first." "You're both welcome to join me," I offered, sitting back down. "What were you hoping to watch?" She batted her lashes. "I was in the mood for something romantic." I inwardly gagged. "There's...romance in this." I shrugged. "If you're open to interpretation." Dorian arched a brow. "When Vincent jabs a needle into Mia's heart?" I tilted my head, impressed that he knew what I was watching from just the paused image. "One of my favorite parts." I grinned. The woman looked between us with a horrified expression. "That sounds terrible." He turned to her. "Have you ever seen a Tarantino movie?" "Who?" She narrowed her eyes. Dorian chuckled. "Okay, then." I clutched my popcorn bowl and stood again. "Seriously. I'll leave so you guys can watch...Titanic or something." "No." He shook his head. "We'll catch a movie another time. Enjoy your night." Dorian led his date out the door before I could protest. I sat in silence for several seconds before pressing play, surprised at how respectful he'd been about the whole thing. This was his house, and he had every right to kick me out and entertain his guest, if he wanted. Eventually, I was able to put Dorian out of my mind and continue my movie night for one. Pulp Fiction was almost finished when the theater door opened again. I turned to find Dorian entering-alone. "Is it over?" he asked. My pulse raced as I paused the movie. "About ten minutes left." Without further comment, he took the seat next to me, sinking into the chair and stretching his long legs. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. His delicious cologne wafted my way, sending unwanted arousal through me. I pressed play on the movie, hoping to move out of this hyper-aware state. "Where's your date?" I asked after the movie finished and she still hadn't reappeared. "She left." "Is she a...girlfriend or...?" "Definitely not," he said, staring at the screen. "Someone you hook up with?" I pried. He turned to me. "You always this nosy?" "Well, we are stepcousins," I teased. "You can tell me anything." "We go way back, don't we? So much I nearly kicked you out when I got here." "Details..." I shrugged. He chuckled. "She's someone I used to hook up with when I lived here years ago. Thought it might be interesting to reconnect with her, but I was grossly mistaken." "Why? What was wrong with her?" "Nothing wrong with her. I was just bored out of my wits. It's probably me that's changed more than anything. That happens when you leave home, I guess." He reached for some popcorn. "Anyway...found myself more in the mood to watch Pulp Fiction than I was to make pointless conversation with her." "I can start it over, if you want to watch from the beginning." "Nah." He shook his head. "But I'll watch another movie with you, if you're down." Ohhhkay. Hesitant excitement washed over me. I'd been pretty lonely lately if the idea of having someone to watch a movie with felt exhilarating. But at the same time, this was Dorian Vanderbilt-not exactly someone I could relax around yet. But I sure as hell wasn't going to say no. I finally nodded. "That'd be cool." "You choose." "Well..." I took a moment to think on it. "If you were in the mood to watch Pulp Fiction, maybe another Tarantino?" He scratched his chin. "Actually, have you ever seen Snatch?" "Guy Ritchie, right?" I nodded. "I've heard of it but never watched it." "His style reminds me of Tarantino. I think you'll enjoy it. Would you want to watch that?" "Yeah." I nodded, impressed with his effort to think of a movie I would like. Dorian went over to the laptop and pulled up the film, then returned to the seat next to me. He reclined his chair as I pressed play on the remote. He once again stretched out his long legs. For the next couple of hours, we watched the movie intently, neither of us saying a word until it finished. That was exactly how I liked it. But he did look over to see my reaction at certain parts, which I also liked. Any nervousness I'd had dissipated as the movie went on. And I certainly couldn't complain about sitting close to him, since he smelled like heaven. I hadn't been out with a member of the opposite sex in what seemed like ages. Sitting this close to an attractive man made me miss dating, even if the man sitting next to me currently was out of my league. When the credits came on the screen, he reached for the remote and lowered the volume. "What did you think?" "It was awesome. I love movies where you don't know what to expect, and the power dynamic can change at the drop of a hat." "Ah...sort of like how you suddenly had the power when I discovered you could control those dogs?" "Maybe, yeah." My mouth curved into a smile. "They actually like me now. But they did not like Savannah." "Savannah was your date tonight?" He nodded. "Yeah. Tess saved me, actually. She helped me get out of the rest of the date." "What do you mean?" "I wanted to end the night early and had been thinking up an excuse. Then Tess rubbed her asshole on Savannah's shoe as we were standing in the foyer. She decided right then and there she wanted to call it a night." I cracked up. "Saved by the asshole." "Exactly. It was perfect." "Did you drive her home?" "I called her a car." "Well, I'm sorry again if I disrupted your evening." "Trust me, I had more fun watching the movie with you than I would've sitting through whatever sappy film she picked." He sighed. "And...I'm sorry if she was rude to you. She was probably just intimidated." "Intimidated? Why?" He glared. "Really? You're gonna make me say it?" "Sure." I smirked. "Because you're attractive..." His eyes fell to my abs. "And you seem to have no other wardrobe besides crop tops." I sat for a moment with the knowledge that Dorian thought I was attractive. I wasn't about to return the compliment, even if all I could think about was how handsome he was. How long his lashes were. How sexy his hands were as they wrapped around the armrest. He had a dark and mysterious look to him, which was right up my alley. "How's school going?" he asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. "I have to sketch someone nude," I blurted. His eyes widened. "Really..." "Yes. In the next week or so." "Male or female?" "I actually don't know. It'll be a surprise." "Which do you prefer to draw?" "There's something very beautiful about the female body, but I think drawing a man would be more challenging because it might make me more uncomfortable." "So, we're hoping for low-hanging balls?" I cackled. "I've never been one to turn down a challenge, no." "So that's a yes on the balls?" "I'll take whatever the universe blesses me with in that regard." "Well, I have no doubt you can handle it, if you created those monkeys from scratch." "Thanks for the confidence." He looked at me a few moments. "You're definitely interesting, Primrose. I'll give you that." "And you're still a bit of a mystery to me, Dorian." "How so?" "That first night, I thought you were a pompous prick. But then you softened. And now, I come to find out you have impeccable movie taste. So you can't be all bad." "I'm glad you no longer think I'm a prick. I'm really not. I have dickish moments, but overall, I like to think I'm a good person." "Still lots to figure out when it comes to you, though." "Like what?" He crossed his arms and leaned back. I hesitated, unsure whether to continue. "You never came to visit your dad, for one. You were always spoken of almost in whispers. I just don't know what to make of you. Not really much of an opportunity to get to know you, either, since you're never home. If you hadn't walked in here tonight, I might've doubted whether you were still living here." He nodded. "I've been spending a lot of time trying to figure out the mess my father left behind. It's easier to do that at his office. But I'd be lying if I didn't say this house unnerves me. Too many memories here." Dorian turned toward me. "I'm trying to keep busy outside the mansion so it never actually registers. I'm not sure if my father being gone has even truly hit me yet. Living in denial and throwing myself into work is pretty much how I'm handling things." He looked up at the recessed lighting. "Dad and I had our issues. But there was so much more I needed to learn from him, things I wish I could say, but I'll never have a chance to. A lot was left unresolved. I feel like I'm still in shock." He sighed. "Despite our differences, he was all I had." The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. My chest felt heavy with emotion as I absorbed his words. "I can relate to that feeling," I said softly. He brushed his thumb along the velvet of the armrest. "Your aunt, you mean?" I shook my head. "No. My mother. I lost her a few years ago. She was all I had. And my father was never in the picture. That's why I moved in with Christina and your dad. Christina was my mom's only sibling." "So, Christina was the closest relative you had left?" I nodded. "Growing up, Christina and I weren't that close. She was always traveling. She was my mom's younger, wilder sister-the dreamer. I always wished to know her better. But she was never in one place. When my mother died, Christina made an effort for the first time to be a part of my life. And I appreciated that." He frowned. "I'm sorry. I know I minimalized her when we first met. I don't know if she was a gold digger. I never tried to get to know her. It was easier to believe my father was being used than to consider that he had a genuine, loving relationship with someone who wasn't my mother." "I get that." I nodded. "And look..." I chuckled. "She might've been a gold digger. I don't know, either. Like you, I believe what's easiest to digest." He looked away. "I guess we'll never know now, will we?" I thought we might need a new subject. "What is it that your father's company does? I've been afraid to ask because I feel like I should know." "It's okay." Dorian smiled. "Dad started out as a physicist. He developed many products over the years. I can't talk about anything currently in development because of intellectual property issues. But in the past, he created solar-powered orbital devices and synapse glass that responds to brainwave sequences. He sold his inventions to huge corporations over the years. And there are many more still in the process of being sold." "Wow." I nodded. "What did you study in school?" "Well, I wasn't given much of a choice. My father essentially told me that if I didn't follow in his footsteps, I would lose my inheritance. He insisted that I study physics for undergrad and get my master's in business. So that's what I did. The plan was always for me to take over." "That wasn't what you wanted?" "If I'd had my way, I probably would've majored in music, so no." "Really..." "Yeah. I was in a band when I was younger, much to my father's chagrin." "What did you play?" "Bass." "Do you still play?" "I dabble in it when I'm alone. But nothing on the regular." He stared down at his hands. "I envy you for pursuing what you love." "But let's face it," I admitted. "Majoring in art is not the wisest career choice." "Knowing that didn't stop you, though. That says a lot about you. You're willing to take a risk for the chance to do something you love." He looked into my eyes. "I think on some level, you know you have true skills, which makes it easier to take that risk. You must realize you're truly talented." My face felt flushed. "I assumed you thought my monkeys were ridiculous." "They are on the surface. But they're realistic as hell. And original. The more I think about it, the more impressed I am." He shrugged. "And I'm jealous that you're doing something you love." "Well, thank you," I said, filling with pride. "Even if music isn't your career, can't you get back into it as a hobby?" "I'm a little too busy right now for hobbies. Talk to me in thirty years." "How old are you?" I asked. "Twenty-eight." He arched a brow. "How old are you?" "How old do you think I am?" "Well, given that you're in college, I want to say...nineteen?" My mouth dropped open. "Do I look nineteen?" "Yes." He smirked. I couldn't tell if he was serious. "I'm twenty-three, actually. Got a bit of a late start on the college front." "Where are you from originally?" "Cincinnati." He nodded. "Are you hungry?" he asked after a moment. "I could eat." "Up for a midnight snack?" "Always." I grinned. Dorian stood, and I grabbed the popcorn bowl, following him out of the theater. On the way up the stairs, I couldn't help noticing how nicely his dark jeans hugged his ass. Attractive from every angle, apparently. Once upstairs, Dorian looked around the large, all-white kitchen. "I haven't eaten here since I moved back. I have no idea what we have or where anything is." "I'm due to go grocery shopping," I said. "So I don't have much to offer you from my personal stash besides Diet Coke." We rummaged through the pantry, which contained several cans of the same exact item. I reached for one and laughed. "Enough caviar?" "My dad's favorite. Imported, made from sturgeon originating in the Caspian Sea. He always said it's the best." "I've never eaten caviar," I said, scrunching my nose. "Not sure I'd like it." "Well, no one else is gonna eat this." He took the can from me. "You wanna try it?" "How do you eat it?" "Usually crackers, but I don't see that we have any." He grabbed a bag of something in the corner. "Hot Cheetos?" "Hot Cheetos and caviar?" I shrugged. "Why not?" "I bet these were my dad's, too. He loved spicy shit." A look of sadness crossed his face as he stared down at the bag. I interrupted his haze. "The reality hits in waves, doesn't it?" "Yeah," he murmured. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile. "Let's take these out to the table." Dorian and I sat at the breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen that featured a window overlooking the ocean. It was dark out now, so we couldn't see much. Through the glass, we could hear the waves crashing, though. He opened a can of caviar and the bag of Cheetos. After dipping one of the cheese puffs into the caviar, he handed it to me across the table. I took a bite and chewed for a while. "It's salty. But in an obnoxious way." Licking my lips, I added, "I feel like these two foods are a pretty accurate representation of the two of us. You're caviar, by the way. And I'm the Cheetos." He took a bite. "I'm...overrated, obnoxious, and salty?" "Basically." I smiled. "And you're cheesy as all hell." He winked. "You were supposed to tell me I'm hot." His eyes seared into mine. "I don't need to tell you that." My face felt hotter than the darn Cheetos now. "Okay, hot's the obvious one." He lifted a Cheeto. "But from my observations, there are better reasons why you're similar to this Cheeto." "Do tell." I wiped the corner of my mouth. "You're bold. Moving across the country to follow your dreams and now having to face an uncertain future, yet with a smile on your face most of the time-that's a very bold thing. To smile in the face of uncertainty and tragedy is probably one of the greatest skills anyone can hold in life." He paused. "You also leave an impression. Just like these do." "Heartburn?" He shook his head and chuckled. "No." "Well, thank you. I feel like I need to reciprocate-but I can't exactly call you fishy." I winked. As we continued to munch and make easy conversation, I hoped this wouldn't be the last late-night snack session I'd get to have with Dorian. I enjoyed his company. When I licked the spicy seasoning off my fingers, I noticed the way his eyes fell to my lips, following the motion of my tongue. And suddenly my tongue wasn't the only thing burning up. In a romance-themed observation show, several participants undergo a series of interactions and conflicts filled with love, misunderstandings, and power struggles. In the end, one couple rises to over...