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Blue

book_age18+
25
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1K
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friends to lovers
arrogant
inspirational
Writing Challenge
humorous
small town
sassy
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Blurb

" You know, you didn't tell me your name" tried Ilaria to change the subject.

He gave her a funny look and smiled.

" Sergei. Sergei Polunin."

" Like " Bond. James Bond"?"

"No. Like " Sergei. Sergei Polunin.""

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-PART ONE - Chapter One
Ilaria Wilson stopped the car, pressing the brake with more strength she would have thought herself capable of. The sudden wave of frustration made her desperately search for a breath of fresh air, so she opened the door and the small blue-dotted thermos rolled out and hit the ground before her foot. She bit her lower lip, stopping a so-not-lady like curse coming out and grabbed it, placing it on the right seat. She then got out, almost sighing with relief when the pleasant smell of the forest replaced the stuffy one of her car.  She closed her eyes, breathing slowly and deeply, letting her nerves relax. When she opened them again, the splash of green and gold seemed brighter than before, making her curve her lips into a thin smile. She didn't have much left until reaching Yachats, so enjoying a small walk didn't seem too much of a deal. She loved nature in a way she could never put into words, no matter how hard she’d try. It made her happy; it relaxed her. And she loved forests in particular. And, being there, in that exact moment, made her light up. She could feel the wind blowing and hear the sound of leaves cutting the air if she listened carefully enough. She could smell the pine and fir and that made her think of Christmas and childhood. When she was young, she used to imagine each leaf as a princess or a prince; the wind was a mysterious song only they could hear, that made them dance at this spectacular big ball that each forest seemed to hold every day. " And they danced and danced happily ever after..." whispered Ilaria, unbuttoning her thin sweater. Because she used to believe in happily ever afters until the same thing that changes every optimist into a pessimist happened: life - real, harsh and cruel, with no second chances or fairy godmothers. Suddenly, the deafening horn of a car that had been forced to pass on the other sense of the two lane road, made her tense up again. She pulled the sweater tighter and headed back to her car, while a red Mustang was getting smaller and smaller in the distance. "Idiot." She got back into her car, turning the radio on. Elle King's Ex's and Oh's replaced the silence, while the blue Mini Cooper drove further on. The entire display offered by the mountain area was breathtaking, making Ilaria think she might actually like Yachats. It felt like peace and freedom, fresh air and new beginnings, bottled up in a road trip to this mysterious little town where a distant aunt had left her inheritance a small villa. Even though she didn't know this paternal relative, the chance of an escape appeared at the very best moment and, talked into this "adventure" - as her best friend used to call it- by the same up mentioned best friend, Ilaria made the decision to pack her belongings and stay, at least for the spring in Yachats. So here she was, only 60 km away from this new place that represented so much to her and had to fulfil so many items on her list. First of all, she wanted to get over Connor. Even more, she wanted to write her second book, hoping that the time away from the boisterous Chicago will help. And she wanted to find... " Damn it!" Now it was her time to klaxon as the same red Mustang was blocking the first lane, making her press the brake again, more powerful than the first time. With only two inches left between the two cars, Ilaria released a whispered curse while a tall figure approached her window. She opened it and found herself staring straight into a pair of deep blue eyes that made the harsh words die in her throat. The man standing next to her car was well built, with contoured muscles and a face so handsome any Greek sculpture would seem plain; his jawline was sharp, his hair a messy mass of dark curls, his eyelashes long and as black as ashes and his lips... dear Lord, his lips were thick and ... f**k, his lips were moving. He has been obviously talking while Ilaria stared at him as the Planet's Greatest i***t and now was blinking, trying to regain her focus. " Sorry? What? " Her voice sounded husky, her throat feeling as dry as the Sahara Dessert. " Dear Lord, please tell me I haven't been drooling until now, or I could as well pray for the Earth to swallow me right away!" thought she, crossing her fingers. " M-Y C-A-R B-R-O-K-E D-O-W-N." started the man to gesticulate and talk slowly, while pointing to his red Mustang. " C-A-N Y-O-U..." " I can understand you, you know?" interrupted Ilaria. " Then, sweet Heavens, what took you so long to answer?" The arrogance in his voice didn't escape Ilaria's observant mind. " I just wasn't attentive. Last time I checked, I was still in my car so I can stop and stare at you... around you" corrected herself quickly, " for as long as I want". She almost wanted to slap herself for the stupidity of her words. For a writer, she should have known better how to use them. Apparently, the boy had also noticed that, as he rolled his eyes. " Look around me? What kind of a lunatic are you?" Ilaria was about to answer, but it seemed he was not interested in that as he waved his hand. " I need you to take me to Yachats." " Whoaaa... arrogant, bossy and -incredibly hot, singed, in chorus, small voices inside her mind- and not at all polite. Why would I help you? Even if you said " please", which, by the way, I am pretty sure you didn't." He rolled his eyes again. " So are you taking me, or not?" "Oh, honey, I'd take all of you, right now", screamed her mind. Instead Ilaria opened her mouth, trying to ignore the pervy thoughts and say something clever instead. " Please." insisted the boy, a bit of annoyance in his voice. She sighed. " No, I'm gonna’ let you stay here and wait until your body will drift and your soul will perish..." She stopped suddenly, beginning to search something through her bag. " That was a good line, I must put it down. " mumbled she as an explanation, while scrambling something in a small green and white notebook. " You're writing down the lines you find annoying enough?" " Very funny, but no. I am a writer. I am writing down anything interesting enough to be found in a book". " An artist." his lips curved up, in something that looked like the beginning of a smile that dazed Ilaria. " Yeah... something like that. Come i, I'll take you to Yachats." " So you don't have the patience for my body to what? Drift?" She laughed. " Yes. I am kind of impatient. Until your body will drift and your soul will perish sounds like a long time." " Not so long" murmured him, crawling on the right seat and closing the door. A flinch of sadness and something way more deep made Ilaria turn her head to stare at him for a second. She could almost feel his background story, something toxic that was eating him up. Asking felt like a nosy thing to do. Shutting up felt like a betrayal of her own writer's curiosity. " Isn't there a law or something that states the driver must keep his eyes on the road?" Fuck. Realizing she kept staring, she frowned. " You know, you didn't tell me your name" tried Ilaria to change the subject. He gave her a funny look and smiled. " Sergei. Sergei Polunin." " Like " Bond. James Bond"?" "No. Like " Sergei. Sergei Polunin."" Ilaria laughed and he seemed to feel a little less tense. That gave her courage to keep the "inquiry" going. " Russian?" " Ukrainian. Not a ballet fan, are you?" " No, not really. More into writing. Besides, I never really got this whole ballet thing. It's artistic, yes, but..." " No buts, Miss...?" " Wilson. Ilaria Wilson." This time it was his time to smile. " As is " Bond. James Bond?" "No. As in " Sergei. Sergei Polunin."" His smile broke into a laughter as he shook his head. " Well, I think you haven't been to the right ballet show yet. I can guarantee you, you'll fall in love with it." " So, you're a ballet lover." " More like dancer." Ilaria stared at him. At least now she knew how that absolutely gorgeous body was real. If all ballet dancers were so freaking hot...well, she made a mental note to go and see ballet shows a lot more often just to be sure. " Have I been such an asshole that you want to kill me?" " What?" She couldn't help but congratulate herself for spacing out again staring at that incredibly well shaped chest and that unbelievably sexy hair. If she touched it, would it feel as good as she imagined? " Damn, woman, why are you taking your hand off the steering wheel?"  Ilaria stopped, her left hand half distance from his hair. " Your hair is nice. I wanted to see if it's fluffy." He stared at her for a second, then started laughing. " No, seriously, what were you doing?" She rolled her eye. Apparently, you could say the truth and get away. " I just wanted to scare you" And touch you. But she left that part out, allowing herself only to think it. The rest of the road trip passed in a complete silence, Ilaria making sure her eyes were on the road and on the road only, while Sergei seemed to feel tensed. She could feel him trying once or twice to begin a conversation, but ended up breathing a bit too loud and she understood that he, just as herself, could sense the awkwardness of the moment. For her it was awkward for obvious reasons: he was so hot and sexy that her mind kept playing scenarios for people over 18 only. But why was it awkward for him? The "welcome to Yachats" sign was soon in front of them and Sergei started to shift uncomfortably. " Think you can let me at this address? Please." Ilaria smiled noticing he remembered to add that "please" and nodded. The GPS indicated 5 more minutes until they reached their destination. Five more minutes in which she had to keep her crazy imagination in control, because the way she could picture herself pinned on the wall by him while their hands were exploring every inch of each other's body and their lips were smashed into one of those furious kisses was too much of a movie-like scene. When she finally parked her car in front of a white house with a fancy small fence, she sighed. She was too confused to ask herself whether it was relief or sadness, but she was sure she would start slobbering up as soon as his perfume wouldn’t invade all her senses anymore. " Uhm, well, this is it." said he, without moving. For a minute, she thought that maybe a little part of him would have liked to stay a bit longer. That, maybe, just maybe, a little part of him was just as crazy as her, playing the same wild s*x scenarios. "No, Ilaria; you're the only crazy one around" informed her conscience. " Yes, I guess this is it." She answered, when he was still in her car, not making any other moves. " Yes. I have to go." He opened the door and got out. Stretching, he turned around to close it and caught her staring at him again. He looked surprised to find her checking him up, but not in an unpleasant way. Yet, he waved awkwardly and murmured a " thank you" before closing the door and starting to walk towards the house.  Ilaria took a moment to take a deep breath, hopping to clear her head a bit. Damn hormones. She started backing when a sudden knock made her freeze. For a second, she feared she had hit somebody, but Sergei's face appeared, gesturing towards her to open the window. She did and he sneaked his head inside. " I'm sorry for acting like an i***t. Thank you for giving me a lift." he said it so quickly she had to process a little before understanding. " Uhm, you're welcome." " Let me make it up to you. Coffee tomorrow morning at Green Salmon. Best coffee in town. 8 o'clock sharp. " She blinked in surprise. This was the last thing she would have expected and yet... Ignoring that he was bossy even when he was supposed to be making up to her, she decided to accept. It was not like she had anywhere else to go or anybody else to have coffee with. And even if she did have, Ilaria was pretty sure she would have accepted anyway, and that was a pretty scary thought. 

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