The Selected | ✓

Chapter 15

Around midnight, after I'd sent my maids on their way, there's a knock on the door. I never changed out of my dress, if anything because I love it and don't want to take it off just yet. I hurry over and open it, expecting Clara to be there to go on about the interviews. 

I'm very wrong.

Instead it's Mason and Alexander, both still in their black suits. Mason hugs me, which catches me off guard. "You looked great tonight, Cassiana. And thank you for saying such kind things about me."

I hug him back. "It was no problem, Mason. I really meant them."

He pulls back and checks his watch. He sighs. "I need to leave. Clara and my mother wanted to meet me in the library for some reason." He hugs me again. "Good night, Cassiana." He leaves before I can reply.

Alexander walks around my room, examining my belongs. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

He shakes his head, looking at a picture of my mother, which Tiffany had sent two days ago. "No. Is this your mother?"

"Yes."

"She's very pretty. You look like her, a little."

I sit on my bed. "Do you have any reason for being here?"

"I thought we were friends? Don't friends hang out?"

"They do, but- ugh! It's too hot in here." I open the doors to the balcony and step into the cool night air. Alexander follows me out. "They do, but why at midnight?"

He shrugs. "Why not?" We stare out at the gardens, lit by the moon. "What you said earlier tonight. I appreciate the kind words, but they really weren't necessary."

It takes a moment for his meaning to register. "You think I wasn't serious?" How could he think that? "Alexander, every word I said about you, I meant." There's barely six inches of space between us. I look up into his eyes.

He shakes his head slightly. "I don't believe you." his voice is quiet.

"You should." I turn back to the gardens. We both fall silent. "So what's she like?"

"Who?"

"The girl that you told me about the other night. The girl that you might be falling in love with."

"The girl that I think is in love with my brother?"

"Yes. Her."

His jaw tightens. Then he relaxes. "Beautiful. She's talented, smart, and serious when she needs to be. She always pays attention to smaller details. Better?"

I smile. "I guess." I glance over at him. "Whoever she is, she'll be lucky to have you."

"He will be too."

"Who?"

"Whoever you decide to marry. He'll be lucky to have you."

I shake my head. "No one would be lucky to marry me. If anything, you should pity him, whoever he is."

He actually looks at me this time. "Why would I pity him?"

I shrug a little. "I'm not pretty. There's nothing special about me except I'm an Eight that somehow made it this far in the competition."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." He mutters.

"Excuse me?" I turn to face him this time.

"You heard me. You say that you're not pretty, that you're nothing special, but that's a lie. And if you don't want my brother or I to fall in love with you, you're going to have to stop being so...so perfect."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not-"

"Yes, you are. In fact, you'll probably have to have your own army if you leave, there'll be so many men after you." I notice how he says 'if' and not 'when'.

"You say 'if' as if you're planning on keeping me here."

"And what if I am?" He steps closer. I'm in between him and the stone railing, my back pressing into the cold stone.

I look from the ground up to his eyes. "Then you're an idiot."

One corner of his mouth curls upward. For once he doesn't force it down. "Are you sure about that?"

He leans so that his head, tilted to one side, is close to mine. My hands press into the railing. We're so close that we share breaths. My heart races. "Pretty sure." My eyes are on his mouth, his nose- anywhere but his eyes.

Before I register what's happening, he presses his lips against mine. I pull back a little, shocked.

He steps back, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry." He doesn't seem very sorry.

"Why did you do that?"

He shakes his head. "Sorry. I just...I don't know what happened there." He obviously does. "I just..." He trails off. "Damn it!" He hits his fist against the top of the railing. "I knew you liked Mason." He runs his hands through his hair.

A warm feeling runs through me. I place my hand on his back, between his shoulder blades. He looks up from the gardens at me. "That was your first kiss, wasn't it?" He nods. I pull him so that he stands up straight. Do I like Mason? Yes. I'm pretty sure I do. Alexander, I didn't even realize that I do feel something for him until now.

I brush my thumb across his forehead, smoothing out the tension. "That wasn't even a kiss."  he smiles, an actual, amused smile. "I think you can do better."

"I'm pretty sure it was a kiss."

I shake my head. "Nope. And it never happened. Try again. But this time, don't be so...awkward. You're confident with everything else."

I guide his arm around my waist, his right hand resting on the small of my back. He reaches his left hand up and brushes some hair back from my face. I rest my hand over his left one on my cheek, the other curling around the dark fabric of his jacket. He leans closer, brushing his lips against mine.

There's a second where we both stare at each other. Then he lowers his head and presses his lips against mine softly, more confident and not nearly as awkward as before. He pulls me even closer, his arm tightening around me before pulling back. "Better?"

I nod mutely, completely speechless.

He presses his lips against mine once more, softly. "Is there any way?"

I understand his meaning immediately. Slowly, I nod. "Yes, Alexander. Yes."