I Don't Want to Fall in Love... With You

I followed Eljah back downstairs into the kitchen and grabbed myself some more tequila. I wasn't a big drinker, but when I did, it was usually the strong stuff. Like his whiskey, I could down that no bother if I wanted to.

He saw me pour my drink into a pint glass, biting the corner of his lip.

"Is that wise?"

I looked at the label, finding the percentage. It was only fifty-five percent. Nothing big.

"Let's hope it makes me."

He chuckled, as he grabbed the pot by the window and sat it on the counter. I drank, and peered.

The dark purple plants grew on many stalks, each one of them more beautiful than the other. The green tinge looked exactly like the color of the leaves when rubbed in the soil. And they smelled of something potent. I always knew their scent was strong, but so strong tonight that I wanted to reach out and touch it, but knew I couldn't.

Belladonna; nightshade. It could kill me if it wanted.

It was a high-risk plant to have, but Mr Quinn stared at it in such awe, I couldn't help but be so too.

I downed some more tequila, still watching, as he sipped greedily on his drink. I guess we were both nervous.

Although I wondered what his was for.

I didn't ask. In the end, I grabbed latex gloves from the cabinet and a pair of scissors. I gave him some, too. Mainly because I knew he was as in love just as much as I was with this fascinating piece of Mother Nature.

"Anya, I wouldn't... just in case."

I snorted.

"I'm not an idiot, Mr Quinn. I can do it." I said. He went to open his mouth but quickly shut it close, probably knowing he'd lose whatever argument he thought of.

He guided me to stand in front of him, his arms on my forearms. Protective, ready to haul me out of the way if things went wrong. I never realized how tall he was until that moment, almost a whole foot on top of me.

I put my gloves on, and kept my head at a safe enough distance, just in case. Too bad I didn't have my reading glasses on. And my hands were shaking as I grasped on to the scissors.

Jeez, Anya, fret much? It's just a darn plant. Get a grip of yourself.

A plant that could blind and drug me, make me hallucinate and see otherworldly things... what was I doing?

I'm such an idiot, I thought. I'd have to consume them to experience anything. And I wasn't that stupid.

So, I raised my hands, and with one that held onto a thick growing stalk, the right one went to cut off the bud. To let it fall into my hand so I could examine it closer. I couldn't tell just yet if I'd be able to hold it up close.

Then, I snipped. It hit my hand lightly. It held barely any weight.

And it was beautiful. So light, so deceptive of its true nature. I caressed the bell. If I didn't have gloves on, I bet it would have felt just like silk.

We both knew nightshade wasn't deadly on touch; it was just precaution. But I still wanted to take my gloves off and feel it. Mostly because I'd always wondered if it was as smooth as any other flower.

"Elijah... how did you grow this? It hasn't rained for weeks."

Mr Quinn's hands on my arms raised to my shoulders, where I knew he was using them as balance so he could lean in. The latex of his gloves rubbed against my skin, even when he moved slightly, like a small burn.

When he was at this proximity, I could smell him. He smelled nice. A combination of his whiskey, plant life and some kind of spice. I think it was ginger.

"Well, it isn't mine," I looked over my shoulder. He had a guilty look on his face. I somehow envisioned rubbing it away. "I'm holding it for a friend. So, I could get an idea how they're supposed to look, since I am actually planning on growing them."

I could tell I was smiling.

"I'd always thought they were–"

The door bust open then, and four beady-eyed, happy creatures dashed in. The kitchen was small in comparison to the rest of the house, so when the dogs were in, it looked minuscule. The Labradors wanted their affection, and in it, jumped for me. I remembered my small scream when the bud dropped from my hand.

The bull terrier, Pip, nose-dived across the floor for it. I guess my scream must have alerted Elijah though, as he ran for it too. I was scared he wouldn't make it in time.

But he managed squash the life under his boot, millimeters before Pip could get to it. In his confusion, the little thing cocked his head then proceeded to flock around me with the others.

"Out! Out!" Mr Quinn barked at them. Suddenly, their tails all stopped wagging and they bustled out. The Labs nipping at each other as the doors closed behind them.

He went over to it and closed the door shut, twisting the lock. He leaned his head on the middle of it, hand still on the key.

I downed the rest of my tequila, as he grabbed his whiskey too and gulped greedily.

I peered at the squashed bud, looking close to a blackberry. One wouldn't know the difference in that state.

"Mr Quinn..." I gestured, to which he rushed towards it, scooped it up in his gloved hands and went out back. I saw him through the window, where he stored it in their locked garbage bin. When he came back through, his eyes were still wide and frantic... though they grew even more so in size when he looked at me.

But that could just be the alcohol, I guess.

"Are you okay?" His eyes drooped to my legs, where the dogs had sliced through my tights and skin was now visible. I had small pink scratches. Nothing fatal.

He moved towards me, head still dipped. He clung to his glass with stiff fingers. I could only guess he was still a little shaken. I wouldn't blame him either. I was still in shock myself.

"I'm not hurt... if that's... what you're asking."

I didn't know why I was panting and breathing so unevenly. The worst was over. I didn't need to be so scared anymore.

My head was swimming though. The tequila was clearly taking its effect now. A few minutes too late, I mentally scolded it.

As he put his glass into the sink, we connected eyes. I had to look up quite a bit, as Mr Quinn was slightly over six-foot-tall, whereas I came short of his chest. His eyes searched mine for a second, as our legs grazed together, his knee by my thigh.

Then it happened quickly, I didn't have time to think about it.

All of a sudden, soft, gloriously bitten lips were pressed furiously against mine, like I was taking all oxygen. They wanted, and needed, my mouth. Fighting for control, for something to hold on to. I reciprocated, because who doesn't like being kissed?

As I did, his arms swathed under me and grasped my ass. Giving it a small squeeze, I moaned into his mouth. Thinking of it as permission, he hauled me up easily, until I was sitting down on the edge of the sink. This way, I didn't have to strain my neck and he didn't have to break his back.

Holding onto my legs, he kept them wound around his waist. I kissed him harder, as my arms moved of their own volition and smacked against the taps behind me. They switched on, the powerful force spraying out and soaking my back and hands.

Elijah didn't notice though and took our parting of lips as an excuse to direct his elsewhere. He made a small trail all over my jaw, and nibbled the sweet spot on my jugular, all while grinding his body against mine.

The feelings awakening inside of me were not foreign. I'd felt these before – when I was fourteen.

I couldn't believe what I was doing... Elijah was an older man – and Emily's father! How could we be kissing knowing that it would mess up everything?

I wanted to stop, believe me, I did. The problem was, he tasted too good.

Dislodging his lips from my neck, he returned them to my lonely mouth. He pressed his tongue against mine, it was so cold I shivered. As if in instinct, his arms wound around me, clothes bristling my skin and trapping.

I pulled away again. "We should stop."

He nodded, eyelashes fluttering enchantingly on my cheeks.

"We should."

But we didn't. The kisses were electric and (I didn't know if this was down to the alcohol or not) I was burning with a hot passion to peel that shirt off his shoulders. Until it was nothing but a discarded pile on the floor. Neither of us would give it a second thought.

Finally, after both our jaws had the workout of a lifetime, Elijah stepped back. His fingers continued to linger on my knees.

He swallowed, casting his eyes away.

"I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

If I could fan myself without fear of him noticing, I would. I'd never been kissed like that before.

"No... um. It was me too."

He groaned, scratching the back of his neck. His shirt rose a little as he did, exposing his lightly toned stomach muscles. Mr Quinn used to work out a lot, back when he had the time, but it was a rare occurrence to see him in the gym these days. He was so preoccupied with work it had become his life.

I had a feeling this kiss was something to be treasured. The ghost of it stayed, frosted onto me completely, unwilling and unable to let go of a feeling so magical.

He had awakened something in me that had been gone for three years. I'd pushed it down, had been convinced of its decay... but here it was. Greeting me again like an old friend.

"Shit, Anya. We can't do that again, okay?" His voice was fretting, high with worry.

"Yeah. Of course."

"My God, what was I thinking!? You're a minor."

My eyebrows narrowed of their own accord. So, what? If I wasn't, then that would make it all okay?

"Yeah, I get it. You can stop pointing out the obvious." I crossed my arms as I slipped down from the sink, turning the taps so the water stopped dripping. It wasn't until I did so I'd realized the whole back of my shirt was drenched.

Normally, I'd have thrown it off and into the washing machine, but...

It wasn't an everyday occurrence I stripped in front of my best friend's dad, the man I'd just kissed.

My God, it sounded so absurd once I replayed it over in my head.

Our eyes met again, reading each other well enough for him to back away. He rubbed his lips, as if he could swipe the taste of me off.

I decided to be the one to put this matter at ease, since he was taking his time.

"Goodnight, Mr Quinn. I hope to be rid of this memory when I wake up." Nodding curtly, I dashed for the stairs. I couldn't ascend them fast enough, it was like a race who could run away from the scene first.

Once I was within the confines of the guest room, I leaned back on the door, rethinking over what happened. One thing was sure here:

It would be hard to forget.