Chapter 4: Show.

SUMMER.

The rays of sunshine burst across my face once the room blinds opened and I jerked to the side with a groan escaping my lips. Even before I opened my eyes, I knew it was my father.

"Hello Sunshine" He clamored with as much morning glee as he could garner while I desperately held unto the few seconds of sleep that still hung heavy unto my eyelids. But then he sat into the bed, weighing the mattress down and almost sending me flying.

A sudden movement like that was more than enough to rid the sleep from my eyes. I rubbed them, shooting him a death glare but Davis has a large grin across his face. He was already dressed in khaki cargos and a hat strapped to his chin.

"Are you ready for today?" He asked and I arched my brows. "What is happening today?" Truly dumbfounded, I threw the question back to him.

"We were supposed to go into the city, I hired a tour guide and everything. Me, you and Taylor. And Vincent only that he cancelled on me just now" He scoffed with a gritty tone but that was all I heard. Vincent canceled so that meant he would be home.

I wanted to stay home too.

"Ohh!" I exclaimed, clenching my temples very dramatically. "You didn't tell me yesterday, I would have woken up early and gotten prepared. Plus I think I've even come down with a headache. The journey of yesterday is totally weighing down on me" I muttered softly and by the way my dad's shoulders suddenly flattened, I could tell he knew what was next.

"I'm sorry" I reached to his hands. "We could go tomorrow! You did say we still had a bunch of fun things to do this summer" I cheered him up and he just let it slide with a slight nod. "I guess so" He reached to touch my neck and luckily, I was warm.

"You should get enough rest and eat before I get back. You're burning up" Even I was shocked as I reached to touch myself, maybe it was just the nervousness of telling him a lie—even if it was just a little white one.

I rarely ever lied to my him. I was what they called a typical daddy's girl.

It was so easy and often for my mum to get mad and yell at me but Davis never did. Rather, he'd sit me down and look me straight into my eyes each time I got silent and he would tell me that I could always come to him. That I should never lie to him.

There was that trust as it should be, which filled me with a lot of guilt as I watched him walk away. "You wouldn't mind me stealing you dad for today, will you?" I saw them off to the front door, wrapped in my duvet while Taylor was wrapped in his arms. She was dressed for the occasion, large sunglasses, a sleeveless top and shorts as short as short as her pale white thighs.

"As long as you return him back" I teased back at her, jaws aching from the forced smile. It was hard not to remember yesterday and how swooned Taylor was by Vincent as well. If my dad couldn't tell, I could.

She was a gold digger and I wouldn't stop until I'm able to prove that her and my father are not a great fit. He should be with someone unfazed by his success, someone who knew him inside and out—he should be with mum. Being the matchmaker that I was, I was going to make it happen. 

"Bye" I bade them farewell as the car took off from the driveway and when they were gone, my smile disappeared faster than the speed of light maybe because I could instantly tell that Vincent was behind me.

His commanding aura and mesmerizing scent were so strong it gave away his presence in any room. I let the blanket slip to the couch before turning around to him. And lo and behold, there he was, standing with nothing but a thick piece of towel around his hips.

It gave very little to my imagination, not that there should even be any at all. And my hands reached to cover my face before settling around my neck. It was hard to breathe normally with him that way.

"Are you okay?" He leaned forward and I nodded my head briskly. "Uh hum" A hard lump slipped down my throat. His biceps were slithering in moisture like he'd just come out of a sauna and his skin, beneath all the tattoos was the perfect shade. Like he'd tanned before coming here.

I saw more tattoos than the grim reaper now, there were about several of them which made me wonder the story behind each one. But I had to leave, with each second that I spent standing there, the tension built between the both of us.

"I should go" I backed away when he started to inch closer and my back was pressed against the wall. How could sniff out my nervousness like a wolf to its mate, I could tell by the glimmer in his eyes and the smirk across his lips. But alas, he came to a halt.

"You should get dressed" His voice was more commanding than usual and I furrowed my brows. "Get dressed?" "You heard me" Vincent turned around, walking down the corridor. "We're going out" He added and there wasn't much room for me to say no.

And so I scurried to my room to clean up, appearing like half an hour later in a faded pink crop top but a skirt rather than a short. It barely scraped my thighs as well but Taylor's were way shorter.

Vincent was waiting by the table and his eyes didn't hold back from scanning me profusely, as if he tore off each piece of clothing with his mind. "I'm ready" My hands crossed in front of me, a little uncomfortable or maybe nervous because I still had no idea where we were going.

Before I knew it, we were hiking down the Oregon roads, through a rocky forest that early morning. The sun was out, although the air was a hazy breeze but it still beamed with a lot of possibilities. Vince was way ahead in a ripped sleeveless t-shirt and shorts.

"Don't you just love it here?" Finally, he called out to me. "I do" I said and when he finally came to a halt at the edge of the cliff, he looked to me. "What is it?" I asked in response to his intense glare.

"How long has it been?"

"Since we last saw each other I mean?" He threw a question back at me and I grazed the ground with a stick in my hands. "I don't know, grandpa's funeral?" My tone was questioning like I wasn't sure but I was.

I knew every time he came around the house.

"You were what? Sixteen?" He remembered and I nodded with a coy smile across my lips. "Man it seems so long ago. You look so different now" Vincent remarked and I toyed with the ends of my brunette hair. Maybe it was longer but besides that, I didn't think I changed that much.

Until he said that.

"You too!" I struck a finger at him and we both chuckled for a moment. "How so?" His lips curved and I wasn't shy to let my eyes scan him as well. "The tattoos," I paused. "They're like a hundred more!"

"Oh come on" I exaggerated and got a reaction out of him. "They're barely even forty. You know I got one for each year of my life" He said.

"Oh" I softly gasped. "That would be what? Thirty eight now" I was so sure with my answer but he shook his head. Now, his face was closer to mine which made his glare more intense.

"Ouch."

"Thirty seven actually, how old do you think I am?" He appeared hurt very dramatically and I rolled my eyes to the back. "It's just one year" I scoffed but Vincent shook his head. "You're wrong." His answer was stern. "One year can change a lot of things, it could change everything"

And he was right.

My gaze softened recollecting the events of last year, from the start of the divorce to the end. "Why didn't you never come around?" I asked him this time and Vince looked away. "Come around?" He echoed.

"Through the divorce."

"I tried to speak to you as often as I could, didn't I?" He was always used to answering a question with a question. "It's different. Dad needed you as well, you were his best friend" I added and Vincent pushed a hard lump down his throat and then it hit me.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" I asked and all he did was dart a glare back at me. "Why else?" He shrugged. And although him and my dad had been best friends for so long, it didn't stop me from wondering how much they had in common with each other because there was nothing.

My dad hated tattoos, especially the idea of any on me. And he made fun of Vincent each time he got the opportunity to. Vince ran a bar and my dad was a world renowned surgeon until he quit to start up his own firm.

My dad was married but it was clear as a whistle that Vincent didn't even believe in love, not to talk of marriage.

They were so different but their bond, it was so strong. Like brothers.

"And he wouldn't stop nagging about Taylor, he desperately wanted me to meet her" Vince joked and I tapped his arms. "Same!" I exclaimed. He let out a soft laughter from his chest.

"What do you think of her?" Was the next question he asked and I couldn't even stop the way my nose scrunched up the next second. "I mean she's different—she's great" She's honestly a walking red flag and there was something I said that made him jump into a raging laughter.

"What is it now?" I rolled my eyes for the nth time, an effect he had on me and he struck his finger in my face. "You liar, you don't like her for shit" He cussed and I chuckled. Well I tried.

But failed regardless, forgetting how much of an expert Vincent was in reading people, especially me. He always teased that I was like a sheet of glass and on some days, it hurt that I was such an open book.

"Well I don't hate her" I tried to speak amidst our laughter while Vince turned around, clutching his chest. "She's just..."

"She's just not Lily, I know" And he added, words that struck my chest. Words at the tip of my tongue and I turned to him with surprise. "How do you know?" I asked and he shrugged. "I just know."

"Do you think they can ever work their way back to each other because I know she still loves dad. I'm not sure about him—" "Oh he does" Vincent said. "Davis still loves your mum but sometimes you know love is just not enough" He muttered.

"You speak as though you're an expert" I whispered and he scoffed from his lips. Vincent inched closer to where I stood. "What makes you think that I'm not?" His eyes sparkled like the sun.

"I mean...you," I stuttered. He was too close, close enough that our heated breaths mingled in the air and I couldn't take a step back, not unless I wanted to fall down a thousand feet and I really couldn't because his arms wrapped around my waist.

This wasn't mixed signals, this was really happening.

"You don't really look like someone that believes in love" I whispered to him when I got a hold of my words and there was that smirk. So brief that you could miss it if you blinked. "Are you profiling me Summer?" My name escaped so perfectly from his lips.

"Do you?" His hands strained through my hair. "Do I what?" I asked him.

"Are you such a firm believer in love yourself?"

"It's hard to when your parents are divorced, isn't it?" I threw him back a question this time and Vince scoffed. "Oh Summer" He whispered and his voice reverberated through my body. His hands gripped my flesh beneath the crop top and he pulled me closer into him. Our lips were barely a meter apart, he was such a tease.

"I'll show you" Was all he whispered next and a lump formed in the back of my throat. "Show me wha—" And before I even completed my sentence, he crashed his lips into mine, taking me by surprise. And for the first few seconds, it was as though I was lifted above the clouds and nothing else mattered when I was in his arms.

It was soft and delicate, yet so passionate as he breathed in the air around me, clawing his nails into my flesh. He was warm, enclasping me in his woodsy cologne and when he pulled away, it was like a fall from heaven. I slowly parted my eyes open to face him again and he smiled.

Unlike the million overwhelming emotions that plagued me, he smiled without any regret before he said, "I'll show you what love is" And his words caught my tongue in the back of my throat.

Did this just happen?

Did Vincent just kiss me?