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Roscoe takes that opportunity to lick up the edge of my cheek.
“Roscoe,” Fitz says again, and drops a fluffy gray towel in my lap as he grabs his dog’s collar to pull him away. “Let’s go outside.” The word seems to be the only thing that can distract the dog from his mission of completely clearing my face of makeup, and he follows Fitz back down the hall. Another door opens and closes, and Fitz returns, another towel in hand. I try to dry off the top of my head, my arms, as best I can, and Fitz’s gaze doesn’t leave me as he towels dry his hair.
After a moment, he reaches out his hand for the towel, and before I can move to get up, he’s back down the hall and opening that door again. Roscoe comes back with full force but Fitz calls his name from another room, and I hear the tell-tale sound of dinner being served as the dog diverts from his mission.
Interested, I pull myself to my feet and slowly step down the hallway, moving toward where I think the sound came from. When I turn into the room at the end of the hall, a chrome and gray kitchen stares back. In one corner, Roscoe is face-deep in a bowl of kibble. In the other, Fitz is standing with his back toward me.
“I’ll be right back,” he says loudly, like he thinks I’m still in the hall. I move toward him, and when my hand reaches out to make contact with his side, he jumps. “Fuck!”
“No need to scream.” I laugh as he turns to face me, and I get a look at what’s in front of him. Laid out on the counter is a tablet, a remote control, and a box of chocolates. I glance back at his face, and his eyebrows are scrunched again in concentration as he clicks at the tablet.
“Stupid fucking sound system never works when I need it to,” he mutters, glancing at me and then back to the task at hand.
Suddenly, from all corners of the house, some sort of fast-paced orchestral music vibrates around us, and I lurch, mockingly covering my ears and looking at him in surprise.
“God, damn, son of a-"
“Language!” I snort at his eye roll as he grabs the remote and points it vaguely above him, rapidly clicking a button as the sound lessens.
“Sorry.” He clicks at the tablet again, and the music switches to something a little softer. “This thing never cooperates when I need it to. You’d think, after how expensive it was…” he trails off, watching my face, and then he cringes a little bit.
“It’s ok,” I say conspiratorially. “I’m clearly only dating you for the money.” I gesture down to myself, soaking wet in all the wrong ways, and he laughs, the tension in his shoulders seeming to melt away. “I like that sound.” He quirks an eyebrow, leaning his side against the counter.
“Yeah?” I nod, and he reaches his hand out, brushing a strand of hair that’s stuck to my face away with his fingers. “I like making you laugh, too.” He smiles, but it turns a little wicked as he leans forward. “I think I’ll also like making you scream.”
I start, and involuntarily, a cackle slips past my lips. His eyes widen, horrified, and my hand clamps over my mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” I breathe from between my fingers, my body still shaking with laughter. “That just…God, it sounded like something a secret serial killer would say right before they, like, pull the knife out from behind their back.” His face melts, his head snapping back in a deep laugh, and he runs his hand through his rain-darkened hair.
“I guess I set myself up for that. I was trying to be…” His lips thin, and he swallows. “I don’t know what I was trying to be.” He eyes me, and then holds out his hand for mine. I remove the one covering my mouth and place it in his. “What were you laughing about in the elevator?”
“We had a foot-popping kiss,” I say dumbly. His head tilts to one side, and I use his hand holding mine to balance as I kick my stocking-clad foot out behind me. I know instantly that he has no idea what I’m talking about, and I look like a complete lunatic making a Princess Diaries reference that absolutely doesn’t land. “Ok, welp, I’m going to go die now.” I try to pull away, to turn toward the front door, but he yanks my hand again, pulling me back so that I land against his chest with an oomph. I look up at him, and those green eyes stare back, searching my face for something.
“You know, you don’t have to try to be anything,” I tell him. I let my hand come up between us, toying with the point of his collar. “You won me over by being yourself - your real self. Don’t start trying to cover that up again,with innuendo, this time.” His eyebrows come together, and instinctively, I reach up and poke my finger at the line it makes above his nose. “That’s what I want.”
His mouth opens to say something back, but I cut him off by pushing myself up on my toes, my mouth meeting his in another kiss that has my blood pumping, my heart thudding against my chest and my watch vibrating to let me know it’s not just in my head.
“Do you need to get that?” Fitz separates from me long enough to ask, and I shake my head, pulling the watch off my wrist and setting it down on the counter.
“Consider that ‘do not disturb’ mode.” He gives me a wicked grin, reaching out and pulling me back against him by the waist. Instead of kissing me, his nose nuzzles into the side of my neck, where he inhales deeply.
“Does that mean you’re mine for the evening?” he asks against my skin. I use my fingers already on his chest to stroke, right over his heart, and he leans back up, looking at me.
“Only if you want.” The hesitation in my own voice catches me off guard, like I’d voiced a concern I didn’t know I had. His brows furrow, just slightly, and I continue. “I mean, sure, I’m here, but you could have your wicked way with me and-"
He cuts me off by pressing his lips against mine again, and this time, I don’t pull back. I don’t lean away to make sure that I’m not reading too much into this.
I let his tongue trace along my bottom lip, and give him entry to push further, one hand still at my waist, gripping the edge of my bodice. His free fingers lace in my hair, and before I can let out the moan muffled by the kiss, always a sucker for that intimate touch, I’m being backed into the kitchen counter.
Fitz
This evening had not quite gone according to plan. But here, with my body pressed against Piper, pulling her to me like she’s a lifeline, all of that melts away.
The rain. The music. The goddamn comment I had to open my stupid fucking mouth and say.
I don’t even like to talk, but it was like my brain was mush, looking at her with her waist so defined, her hair plastered to the side of her face from the rain, those big eyes staring up at me like she still can’t believe she’s here.
Like she’s the one who’s shocked I gave her the time of day, and not the other way around.
