The Layers of His Mask

17. He Didn't Get Out Much

While tuned into Of Monsters And Men radio on Pandora on my phone, I managed to get a lot of food made for breakfast for Alex's birthday. Eggs - even though I don't like the consistency of them; they are more for Alex than me - bacon, toast, homemade hash browns, and orange juice.

It took me a while to sneak out of his room early this morning, he was latched on so tight to my body. I woke with one of his hands still on my breast.

He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping, I didn't even want to disturb him. I laid there for a while, pushing the messy sway of hair from his forehead whenever it would fall back again. I laid there and I stared at him, silently laughing at the position I was in.

He has been working so hard these past couple of weeks. Even I noticed how much more effort and energy he has been putting into his work lately. Tasks that would normally be designated to certain kitchen staff members, he took them on himself. He received a few confused stares from those whose jobs he had taken on, even me, but they would brush them off while I would be left pondering what was on his mind. He has been more silent than normal, but he still talks to me and tells me when he needs his time away from me. I tell him okay and give him his space as he requests.

With the tray of food in one hand - balancing it quite well might I add - I walk into Alex's room. I reach my hand out to the side, fingers resting on the shirtless, warm back of the man laying on his stomach, one arm above his head. He stirs, shifting, the mattress collapsing a little with his weight. He stares up at me.

"Morning," I cheerfully greet with a smile.

"Good Morning," he says raspily, wiping the sleep from his eyes, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

He reaches out his arm for me and I slowly approach him, the ache between my legs preventing me from going any faster than snail pace. He brings that same arm over to wrap around my back, eyes still shut.

"I'm sore," I mention, unclenching my legs. "One place in particular."

"I can imagine why," he half-laughs, opening his eyes. "You were practically begging for it last night - over, and over, and over again.”

"Yeah, now I'm regretting it completely," I joke, the tray of food still balancing in my hands.

"Well I'm not, that was a hell of a workout," he says, smacking my bare ass underneath the protection of his black t-shirt.

I attempt to scoot back, but he grabs the tray from my hands with only one of his and places it down on the foot of the bed. He then tugs on my wrist and I join him on his lap. In a matter of seconds he's flipping me, trapping me under his body that is currently hovering over mine, hands planted on opposite sides of my head.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Brooks. How old are you today, thirty-five?" I already know the answer, but I love teasing about how when he gets old I'll come and visit him in the nursing home.

"Close, Ms. Daniels," he winks, "try twenty-nine."

"Wow, you age well I must say." I nod my head approvingly. I turn my head to his arm, rubbing along his forearm, examing the ink permanently marked on it. Swirls of red, blue, black, grey - all the colors coming together to form a collage of pictures. A knife with the words "just say yes chef and do it" are written on top of the knife. A blend of blue, red, and black surroud it, almost making it glow, singling out that it is the center of attention.

"As do you."

"Age is but a number.” He slowly raises my arms above my head. "I went from okay, to eh. Not all that attractive," I laugh.

"You really don't see the way men look at you do you?"

"No. I'm not really paying attention to those men half the time."

"Well, I notice every one that looks you. It's very f*****g annoying." He smiles and brings his lips down to mine, I turn my head before they touch them. "You have morning breath."

“So.”

"No! That's gross. And besides, I need to eat and take a shower. And so do you." He hops off of me and stands to his feet.

God, could his body be any more perfect? It's like someone sculpted his body from stone. He's Adonis in the flesh but with a bit more muscle.

"Get up woman." I try and crawl to the other side of the bed, but he ends up dragging me by my feet across the mattress and throws me over his shoulder. He carries me to the bathroom on the other side of his room and turns on the shower.

He brings the t-shirt from over my body, tossing it to the ground, placing me under the cold water and I squeal. I'm fighting my way back to him within a few short seconds. I latch onto him, pulling him under the cold jets of water with me. "Woo!" his mouths forms into an o and he bounces up and down. "You're very strong for such a small woman!" he shouts over the sound of the rushing water.

"Don't underestimate my size, Mr. Brooks! I was raised with an older brother who taught me how to fight." The water falls across our joined skin, now draping us in a blanket warmth.

Alex takes my face in his hands, gently pressing his lips to mine. When he pulls away I am left dazed per usual. "I want you to meet my sister and my parents," he tells me, still holding my face in his large hands. "My parents are hosting a birthday dinner for me, tell me you'll come with me?"

"Of course," I say, nodding my head, not giving my brain enough time to give it a second thought. "I would love to meet your family. I know how much you love them," I genuinely smile at him.

A smile tugs at his lips, threatening to form into a full on grin. I push us from underneath the warm water of the shower. "You're sure about this? You don't think it's too soon?"

"Yes Alex, I'm sure," I tell him honestly. "I want to meet the people who raised you."

****

"He said what?!" Hannah screams, slamming her plastic cup down on the white food court table, attracting the attention of almost every person within hearing distance and probably even more beyond that.

"Will you keep your damn voice down?!" I hiss, lifting my hands to cover her mouth. She starts mumbling loudly into my hand, arms flailing at her sides in both excitement and rage apparently.

Violet begins to laugh, shaking her head at Hannah and I. She picks up her fork and starts in on her lunch, ignoring us both completely. After a few bites and more muffled chatter from Hannah she says "Be quiet and maybe she can actually tell us all of what happened before Alex and the boyfriend come back.

"Remind me again why Alex is here?" Hannah asks once I remove my hands from her stilled lips.

"I needed a male opinion. I want to make a good first impression for his family," I say.

"And why is her man here?" she asks, pointing to Violet.

"To counterbalance all the estrogen. I don't want him to feel alone."

"Wow...I can see why. Ian and Violet are so damn attached at the hip you'd think they were born that way."

"Shut up, at least I have -" Violet stops herself, making a motion with her hand over her lips like she's zipping them closed.

Hannah straightens in her seat, tilting her head to one side. "Oh please, finish that statement." she begs, waving her hand, telling Violet to continue.

"She is not finishing that statement and you are going to calm down, now."

"No, but I want her to." an eyebrow raised grin appears on her face. "I really want to know what the hell I've been missing by not having a boyfriend."

"Hannah...please don't. We're supposed to be here having fun and shopping, remember?"

"Sure... so since you're meeting his family tonight when the hell are you going to tell yours about hi?" I avert my eyes to the speckled pattern on the table, scratching at a dent in the wood.

"I don't know. I mean, it never seems to come out when the opportunity arises."

"Just tell them. From what you've told us they 'love' Alex." She puts love in air quotations then rolls her eyes at his name.

I have no idea what her deal with Alex is. He hasn't done anything to her. She does sometimes irritate the s**t out of him as he says, but then again, who the hell doesn't? I supposedly irritated him when we first met.

"I'm sure it's not that simple for her Hannah. Look at her, she already looks like a nervous wreck."

I do. I do look like a nervous wreck and I feel like I'll break down any moment from anxiety.

I'm meeting my boyfriends family and I don't know what to wear or how to act. Do I dress up? Down? Somewhere in between? I don't even know.

Alex suggested I show up in blue jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. I am not doing that. What kind of first impression would I give them if I showed up in that?

Not a good one.

My phone vibrates on the table and I pick it up to see it’s a text from Alex. Ian and I are going to GameStop. I’ll meet you at Macy’s in about thirty minutes.

-_- really?

Yes, really. The new Call of Duty is out.

Fine. You better not be late or else I’m coming in there and dragging you out myself.

I’m always punctual.

I don’t reply back after that. His secret obsession with video games is beyond unhealthy. Sometimes I can’t pry him away from them, even when I bribe him with s*x. I get quite jealous of them.

***

"I'm nervous," I tell Alex, squeezing his hand even tighter, staring at the road ahead.

"You'll be fine. They will love you, I'm sure of it." He smiles over at me then blinks back to the highway.

I have been talking myself in and out of this dinner for the past few hours. I'm so nervous, and even though everyone did approve of the outfit and Hannah did my hair and makeup, I can't help but think that his parents and sister will hate me.

I'm not like other normal girls. I act like a little kid high on sugar half the time, and the other half is spent cooking or reading. I have no life.

"But how do you know for sure?" I ask hesitantly.

"If this helps you at all, Anna already loves you and the only things she has seen from you are text messages and pictures."

"Really?" I smirk, tucking a few pieces of loose hair behind my ear.

"Yes," he reassuringly smiles. He places a hand lightly on my knee and squeezes it gently. "Please stop freaking out, you'll be fine."

"Okay."

He turns down a small road, the speed of the car decelerating until he drives a mile or two more and makes another turn onto a curved cement driveway.

The house that we are in front of is a beige and brown, brick, ranch style home for sure. Just from the architecture of it I can tell. My mom is a realtor and I have been obsessed with owning my own house since I was little. Though the obsession for them came after cooking did. I guess you could say I picked up a little bit of both of their career in me.

"You ready?" Alex asks, throwing the car in park and shutting the engine. I look ahead to see quite a few cars parked in the driveway. I thought this was just his immediate family.

I inhale sharply and exhale deeply. "Yes," I nod. Though I think I may have nodded just to nod.

"Are you sure?" He asks again, turning in his seat to face me directly.

"I think so," I breathe, closing my eyes and fanning my now overly heated body with my hand.

"It's twenty-five degrees out. How are you even hot right now?"

"It happens when I get really nervous. I occasionally throw up as well." I continue to fan myself.

"Please not in the car." He says, searching his back seat for something. When he twists back around he has a plastic Walmart bag in his hands, handing it to me.

He did not just do that.

"What the hell Alex?! Do you really care about this car more than me?"

"No," he convincingly tells me, releasing a chuckle. "Your anger tends to overtake your nerves, so I thought if I riled you up your anxiety would dissipate."

"Oh it's dissipated," I shout, pushing the door open and slamming it shut.

I rush up to the dark blue door, heeled boots slamming against the pavement, ignoring his shouts of "wait!" from behind me. I ring the doorbell and straighten my red and black plaid trench coat and beige sweater underneath.

“Rebecca.” Alex grabs my elbow, swiveling me around to face him. “I was just kidding, it was joke. Though I wasn’t joking about the anger forcing out your nerves. It worked didn’t it?” a boyish grin tugs at the corner of his lips and he kisses my lips once then pulls away.

Sure enough, he’s right. I’m not nervous at all, now I just pissed. However my anger is slowly diminishing with each word that comes from his mouth. He knows me too well.

“You’re lucky I can’t resist your ass.”

“My ass huh?”

“That ass too,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, turning to the door.

“What is it about my ass that you love?” he presses, stepping sideways to face the door, placing a hand on my ass.

“What’s not to love.”

“Yours is pretty great too,” he says, squeezing one cheek.

The door swings open and he squeezes one more time before shifting his hand to my lower back. A woman with dark brown hair - streaks of grey - answers it. Her blue eyes move from Alex to me and I freeze.

She hates me already. She hasn’t smiled once since her eyes landed on me.

"Happy birthday, Alexander." The woman whom I assume to be his mother hugs him briefly.

“Mother, this is Rebecca,” Alex introduces, smiling widely at the woman in front of us, then to me.

“My God, I am so sorry. Where are my manners?” she smiles and pulls me into a tight, warming hug. When she pulls away she says "my name is Janet by the way."

"It's so nice to meet you Janet. I've heard a lot about you from this guy." I slap Alex on the back and he coughs, rubbing that same spot with a hand behind his back. She smiles once more and motions for us to come inside, telling us that Alex's birthday guest and food are waiting.

The house is well lit, inviting, and so beautifully decorated. There is a red, plus couch pushed to the far wall when you come in, cream colored curtains hanging by it's sides. The couch is covered in an assortment of decorative pillows. Two cream chairs are faced diagonally on opposite sides of the couch.

All the walls are painted white with a gold trim around the bottom and tops of the walls, as well as that same trim surrounding the fireplace to the left of the couch. A few people are sitting on the couch and one person sitting in the chair. When his mother Janet announces that we are here all those heads that were once turned to each other turn to us.

A beautiful woman similar in appearance to Janet immediately stands and walks up to me. "Rebecca!" She squeals, wrapping her arms around me.

Everyone here seems so sweet and welcoming. That gene must have skipped Alex, it had to. He was nothing like this when we first met.

"Hi," I laugh when her contact is gone. "You must be Anna," I say, pointing to her.

"That would be me, I see Alex has told you all about moi." Her hands land on her chest.

"He has actually," I agree, turning my head to glance at him. "He told me and I quote that you are extremely energetic and don't know -"

"How to shut the hell up?" She completes, folding her arms over her chest, laughing.

"Yes," I giggle, covering my mouth to hide my laughter.

"You see that I know this line by heart?"

"I told her nothing of that sort," Alex says, shrugging one shoulder.

"Well then how did she know it?" Anna questions, raising one brow.

"She made it up?" I glare at Alex when he says this, punching him in the arm afterwards.

"Fuck.." He hisses, grabbing the part of his arm I just punched.

"Damn, I really like her." She loops her arm with mine. "Come with me Becca, I'll show you around and introduce you to dad and the rest of the family."

"Okay," I nod, smiling at her as we walk away. I look back to find Alex burning a hole in the back of his sisters head. I mouth to him "be nice" before turning back around.

She ushers me around to all the different family members and friends, introducing me, we talk for a few minutes and then walk away. This goes on for about thirty minutes non-stop. We stop in front of the final person our tour, a tall, slender male - about Alex's height - blue eyes, sandy brown hair. He's dressed in a pale green button up shirt with khakis and brown loafers.

"Dad, this is Rebecca, Alex's girlfriend." He struggles to stand, hands shaking slightly, a grin already in place.

I unhook my arm from Anna's and step forward to help him. "Here, let me help you." I offer him my arm and he takes it, looping it with mine.

"Thank you so much." He says, patting my forearm and keeping it there.

I wonder why Anna didn't offer to help him.

Answering my internal questions she explains, "Dad likes to do things on his own, he doesn't like for us to help him. He'll usually try and get up himself, but if he can't he'll ask for help."

"Never let them see you struggle, then there's never an excuse to ask for help. Remember that," he chuckles.

"I'll remember that," I smile. "Alex looks so much like you, Robert."

"Guilty," he grins, shuffling his feet to face me, trapping me in a hug, a very welcomed one. "He stole my good looks, now I'm stuck looking like this for the rest of my life - old and brown and grey haired."

"You don't look the least bit old," I mention, smiling over at their father Robert. "Alex however acts as if he is in his sixties sometimes," I teasingly whisper.

"He didn't get out much as a kid," he whispers back. I laugh loudly, the sound filling the room we are currently standing in.

"Chase!" Anna squeals again from behind me. My laughter ceases.

Chase? Oh my God, Chase.

"Rebecca when you're finished talking to dad come meet our cousin Chase!" she shouts. Cousin? Alex never even told me that Chase was his cousin. No wonder Chase never backed down from him that day. And no wonder Alex got so angry.