Hey guys sorry I didn't double update I was at a writers block for the last few chapters, so hopefully something good will come out of this one

I apologize for all grammar mistakes D:

BTW : the more you guys comment and vote the more motivated I get to write the next chapter faster, perhaps even in the same day (;

QOTD : Favorite scene so far in the book (granted there are only 9 chapters xD)

I study Demetri's outstretched hand. It's so late now that I wander what it is we'd even be doing. I look behind me, pondering on what to do with Will. I can't just leave him, at least not without an explanation. I got up from the table, dismissing Demetri's hand.

"I need to leave Will a note," I explained, without looking back. I grabbed my small notepad out from my apron and a pen, leaving him a note.

"Will?" Demetri asked, observing me. I nodded and turned to face him.

"My friend. He and I were working the grave- . . night shift and I didn't want to just leave him or that'd be rude. Anyways," I set the sticky note on the counter. "Where would we even go?" I asked as I came to his side. "Also I'm still wearing my uniform," I added.

Demetri gave me a once over, making me slightly uncomfortable. I definitely knew I wasn't at my best looking right now, what with my hair sticking out of my braid after a long day of cleaning tables and welcoming customers.

"You'll be alright in your uniform but I have a change of clothes back at my place if you'd like some to make you feel more comfortable," He offers. I study him, wondering why he has clothes at his place. Maybe he's into doing the old flavor of the week routine. I hoped I wasn't to be another flavor on his check-list but with the way we seemed to interact and meet a part of me knew I wasn't.

"Well, okay," I muttered. He holds his hand out once more. I lift a brow but take it in mine anyways and he leads me outside. The cold air licks my bare shins, causing me to shiver. I'm glad he doesn't hand me a jacket or anything cheesy like that. Instead he makes it a point to get into his car swiftly. Before he can, I open the door for myself.

"Quite the independent aren't you?" He chuckles with a teasing ghost of a smile. I bit my cheek and nod, hoping it wasn't the biggest turn off. I had to remain independent, it's the way I had to raise myself before . . . I shake my head and my thoughts float to the back of my mind, where they indeed need to stay.

I close my door and he gets in on the opposite side and starts up his car. He flips on the heat and turns up the music. A strange song comes on and I'm shocked to hear classical yet oddly sensual piano and violin music.

"I can change it if you want," he offered, backing out of the lot.

"No! I mean . . I don't mind it. It's soothing," I rushed. He nodded slowly before driving. "So, where are we going?" I asked.

"First to my place so you can grab something else to wear so your uniform doesn't get messed up."

I tilt my head to the side, a small habit I've picked up over the years when I'm confused. Messed up? What does he mean by that? As if sensing my puzzlement he replies, "You'll see."

We stay idly silent as the music plays. It's not an awkward silence, but more comforting as though we're not that concerned about making small talk, though I'm a bit nervous. I haven't been on a date in a long time. The last time was actually with Will when I was 18 and when I didn't quite feel the spark, I decided I was more comfortable being just friends. He seemed downtrodden but clearly must have gotten over it for now he's the closest thing I have to family along with Moira and Marge.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" He suddenly chimes. I look over at him and think. Dear lord my music taste is vast, and I'm almost unsure of how to answer. One second I love Chris Brown and R&B then I'll love One Direction, then in another moment I'll love rap - though I'd never admit it to anyone who asked.

"My favorite genre is probably between R&B and Alternative."

"Like?" He asked, turning the wheel.

"For R&B I loved Ne-Yo, Ciara, sometimes Kanye West, and Chris Brown. For Alternative I love Marian Hill, Halsey, Odessa, Melanie Martinez, Alessia Cara, Marina and the Diamonds. Honestly it depends on my mood and such," I trailed off, knowing he was getting lost in all the singers and bands.

"I've heard of them, well most anyways," He said with a shrug.

"Is it safe for me to make the assumption that you like classical music?"

"Correct. But I have my moments like you where I do enjoy other genres like Blues."

"Are you into that brooding, dark and mysterious kind of tune?" I ask, raising my eyebrow and resting my chin on my palm. I see him lightly smirk.

"You could say that. And you? Does the sound of it entice or disgust you?" His voice is deep and raspy. I gulp to and try to find it in me to speak.

"Both."

He seems stunned with my answer, waiting for me to clarify. "I think both. The music is enticing because it opens up different, deeper parts of me or others they didn't know they had. Just like in real life how some people have dark or deeper parts within in them that they didn't know they had and don't feel like showing it. The music speaks on your behalf about how you feel without giving away too much."

"That's a very interesting idea. And disgust?" He looks at my eyes when we reach a stop light. His eyes are intense and seem to see right at me, rather than through me. I take a breath to find my words and pray I don't sound like a total imbecile.

"I wouldn't say disgust. Maybe, misleading. While there's the dark and twisty side of things, the music makes me feel like there is no happiness in this world and we'll all fade to oblivion so why try? I'm a firm believer in both sides of the world, not just one."

"I may just agree with you Ms. Skaarsgaurd," He says as though he's testing my last name on his tongue. I'm surprised he's remembered it. My name was far from different and in a literary sense, out of this world. I close my eyes for a second.

Flashback***

I sit there while Mommy's friend stares at me with wonder and something else I don't understand. He's got dark hair and dark eyes and doesn't hesitate in making me feel small and intimidated.

"Venus Skaarsgaurd. That's one hell of a name you've given her Macy," He said, staring at my mom with raised eyebrows. She shrugs. "She's different, like her name, and unlike her useless father," She spits.

The man stares at me with wonder again, but I'm not sure why or who he is.

"Venus was always your idea. Why not give her a normal name?"

"She's not normal, and you know that." She defended me. I frowned.

I snap out of it and look at Demetri, hoping he hadn't asked me anything while I was spacing out.

"We're here," He says. I glance at the building and it's beautiful. It screams edgy and modern, reminding me of something that someone made in a Sims game by using excessive cheat codes.

I get out of the car and walk out to take in its beauty.

"Come on," he demands. I nodded and catch up to him. He opens the door and I remember just how brilliant the interior is. Chic and classy, matching him as well.

"Your house is beautiful," I whisper as he leads me around into a hallway.

"Thanks. Sometimes I feel like it's too much so that's why I sometimes crash at my brother's old loft," He explained, stopping at a door. He opens it and it seems to be a guest room. The bed is enormous and has a thick white comforter with lace designs cascading off the sides. The frame is a dark chocolate wooden piece. The light above is simple, and above the bed is a painting of a snowy forest.

There's a small wardrobe adjacent in kitty corner style across the bed.

"There's some clothes in there and you can pick out what you want."

I want to ask where the clothes came from, for I'd feel weird wearing one of his sluts clothes. I mentally punch myself. It was so rude of me to assume and use the word "Slut" when I didn't even know the story behind it.

"I had a cousin stay down here last month and I bought her spare clothes but she's a bit more . . . posh than I'd anticipated so she didn't really wear them. I hope you'll find something to your liking. But don't get too fancy," He says before leaving me alone in the room. I sigh in relief.

I opened up the wardrobe and feel giddy when I land on some plain black leggings and a long ish grey sweater. I decide on that, wanting to be cute but comfortable. I put them on, and they end up fitting like a glove much to my surprise. I notice a small mirror inside the closet part of the wardrobe and use it to my advantage to fix my hair.

I took it out of the braid and ran my fingers through it with ease. The braid left some slight waves in my hair that I didn't mind so I kept my hair down and put the rubber band on my wrist. I walked out of the room, searching for Demetri after making sure I didn't look like a wreck.

He was in the kitchen, browsing his phone.

"Um, is this okay?" I asked from behind the corner, grasping the edge of the wall.

His eyes rake up and down my body, making my cheeks warm considerably.

"It's perfect. You look beautiful," He says and to my horror my cheeks are now broiling and no doubt red as a tomato.

"Thanks," I reply, trying to seem confident, but in reality I'm actually feeling those damn butterflies in my stomach. Whether or not it was due to his compliment, or the fact I was here with him again alone, I wasn't sure. I could feel my confident facade begin to fade which put me off. I haven't been this nervous in a long time and for once I wish I could text Moira but I left my phone at the diner.

"Ready?" He said. I nod and follow him out of the house.

As we both climb into the car, the classical sounds emit from the radio and fill the quietness.

"You never did say where we're going," I reminded him and glanced at the clock. It was already 12:25 am.

"It's a surprise," He replied with a sideways glance directed at me. I shivered under his brief yet intense gaze.

"I really liked your painting," I suddenly say out loud. My comment is so random it surprises him and me. He smiled lightly. "The one in the guest room?"

"Yeah." I begin to play with my fingers as I realize just how stupid I sound.

"I've always enjoyed snow and the forests."

"Me too, kind of. I really like rural and bucolic scenery. Minus the snow maybe, but it does add to make it more pretty."

"Understandable, what about the forest do you like?" He asks with amusement. I bit the inside of my cheek. "I like it because I feel like it's misunderstood. They're supposed to be dark and creepy which I do kind of see, but I just have found them peaceful and pretty. You never know what hides in there," I said with a smile.

I'd been dragged around the streets of Chicago by my mother years ago, so you could say I'm not big on city scenery.

"I see," He says, clenching his jaw. I wonder what set him off but decide to keep quiet.

"You're very poetic, Venus. You have an interesting insight on things other people seem to overlook," He murmurs. For some reason, his compliment hits home and my heart beats a little faster knowing he seemed to see something deeper than just complimenting my appearance.

"Thank you," I said with a smile. He returns it.

"With that being said, we're here."

We both get out of the car once it's stopped. There's a small bakery welcoming us. "Annie's." I read out loud. It's a small cute place, somewhat reminding me of the diner I work at.

"Er, isn't it locked? I mean it's-"

But at the sound of the door ticking open with Demetri holding it for me, I stop talking.

"How did you . . ." I trail off.

"My cousin's boyfriend works here and his family owns the place. Plus I invested in it to help it get started. Perks," He said with a grin, swinging a key around his fingers by it's chain. I lightly laughed as I walked up and went through the door.

It's dark at first, but a light flickers on and Demetri grabs my hand. A small tingle works it's way down my spine as he drags me to the other side. "Are you sure we're allowed back here? Perks and all?" I asked.

He nodded and pulled me to the back. Once we go through two double doors I notice we're in the kitchen. There's a bunch of materials laid out with dough laying on wood pans along with frostings and everything needed for baking.

"I figured since you liked my cooking, I'd give you a run for your money with my baking," He said, rubbing the back of his neck looking a bit vulnerable. I smiled.

"You may have made a mistake here Mr. Demetri. I can't cook, but my baking is out of this world," I said with a triumphant point towards myself with my thumb. He smirks, making my stomach flutter once again like earlier.

He steps closer to me, and the amount of tingles increase in my stomach. "How about we make this more interesting?"

"I'm listening," I said with a raised eyebrow. His eyes are dangerously staring me down and his demeanor has changed though I'm not sure if he even notices. His shoulders are squared and he stands taller, hovering over me. At our proximity my stomach is on a roller coaster with butterflies fluttering about and bashing around. I have to look up to see his face.

"Who ever bakes the best pastry, the other has to do a dare, or answer a sort of question. Deal?"

A devious grin paints itself on my face.

"Deal." With that, I turn my back and stare at what I have to work with. Cake? Cookies? Brownies? Which should I make? I turn my head to see what Demetri is making but his enormous back is the only thing I see. I lightly sigh.

I decide I'll make these oreo truffle balls. I'll do some regular, some strawberry and others will have nuts or something in them.

I notice 4 packs of double stuffed oreos sitting beside some other things and I take 2 of the boxes. I pour the oreos into a huge baggy, then follow it with another.

"Do you have a, I don't know what it's called, but something to bash this with?" I ask, knowing I sound insane. He turns to me and raises his eyebrows.

"Like this?" He asks, pulling out a dough roller.

"No, I mean, it's more like what people use to tenderize meat I think."

"Uh," Is all he says before reaching near the sink and grabbing me the metal utensil. I smile and take it from him, but he hands it to me too closely and my fingers brush over his. Another tingle races down my body but I ignore it and grab the thing. My eyes linger on his finger tips but he turns around quickly.

I push it to the back of my mind and begin to harshly pound the oreo balls.

"Are you committing murder over there?" He suddenly asks. I laugh, keeping my back to him. "Yeah I'm making some killer stuff over here."

My try at a pun is so pitiful we both end up chuckling. I continue to mash though the sound is loud against the wood. "So, how's yours coming along? Is it ready to compete with my masterpiece?" I ask aloud, not turning to face him.

"There'll be no competition when you taste what I'm coming up with."

I laugh, but given what I've tasted from him he no doubt is making something delicious and I hope and pray mine will turn out good. I like baking and though I consider myself good at it, with my work schedule I don't have a lot of free time. I suppose with the new girl coming . . . Brooke, maybe it'd give me more leisure time.

I smile and once I'm done mashing the oreos, I dump the crumbs into a big plastic bowl. "Fridge?" I ask aloud and turn. He faces me and then points beside him where there's a mini fridge. I nod and walk over to it.

He begins to turn to see my mess of oreos. "Hey, no peaking," I scold him as I bend down and reach for some cream cheese. He smiles at me and continues to work on his own thing.

I finally found what I was looking for and returned to my station. I dumped out a bunch of creme cheese with a large wooden spoon I found to my right and began to stir, which tired my hand faster than I'd anticipated.

Minutes later, and I've completed my first batch after coating the balls in white chocolate dip, leaving it to harden.

I make some more different kinds of these great oreo balls and wait for Demetri to finish.

"Have you finished?" He asked.

"Yep. Prepare to have your ass kicked," I said with a laugh, but I'm secretly nervous he'll hate them and end up spitting them out. Hopefully my confidence won't lack sincerity when the time comes to test the taste.

He laughed before turning around to face me. In his hands was a small cake. My mouth nearly dropped. Each layer was a different shade of grey and black, like a dark rainbow. It looks amazing, and I wonder how he learned something so cool. My oreo balls looked like shit compared to this.

"Wow," was all I could manage. I began to feel doubt nip at my fingertips when I began to think of how he'd feel about mine.

(A/N : PIC OF HIS CAKE LAYERS TO THE SIDE)

The corner of his lips twitch into a small smirking smile. I pull out a tray I had set in the fridge to see my oreo balls. They all look the same on the outside with white chocolate covering and chocolate drizzle.

"I've got regular and some other flavors," I explained as to why I had so many. He nodded.

"I'll try regular first," He regarded. I nodded, and plucked the pastry from the tin and handed it to him. He popped it into his mouth, and narrowed his eyes as if really focusing on the taste. I felt my fingers twitch at my sides as I awaited his response.

"And now you try mine," He said. I nodded and set the tray on the counter. He held a fork in his hands, and cut down to grab a piece of cake. He held it out for me, and despite my small nerves, I took a bite as he "fed" me.

It was delicious, and I couldn't place my finger on what exact flavor it was. Lemon, but with tang and something I couldn't place my fingers on.

"It's good," I told him after swallowing. He seemed satisfied with my answer.

"And so was yours."

I put my hands on hips, trying to figure out who won. "Come here," He commanded, sending a shiver down my spine. If anyone else had demanded that of me I'd have slapped them upside the head for trying to order me around. Why didn't I feel like that when it came to him?

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms, observing me as I inch closer to him. He lifts up his hand to my face, and I wonder what he's doing until the pad of his fore finger wipes at my temple. I watch him and suddenly I feel the world come to a slow.

He blinks, his beautifully long eyelashes batting against his lower lashes, revealing his gorgeous blue-green eyes. His jaw lightly clenches, showing off his stronger jawline. I

know I'm staring at him now. He's captured my attention as I watch him. What is it that is so intriguing about him? I feel a pull to know more about him, where he came from so I can understand what it is I'm feeling. I can't remember the last time a guy called me beautiful, aside from Will as my friend, or someone giving me tingles or butterflies. I felt like a teenage school girl, something I had been deprived of during the actual age.

Time resumes and I watch him plop his finger back in his mouth. I swallow the lump in my throat as he cleans up the frosting on his fingers. His eyes open and focus on me while he does so. I widen my eyes in disbelief. All he's doing is staring at me, and sucking his fingers, so why do I feel like I'm going to melt into butter on the floor?

"W-who won?" I can't help but ask.

"I'm gonna have to say I think you did," He replied. I grinned, feeling victorious. I step away from him, unable to keep up with the intensity. His shoulders tense noticeably as I back up.

"So, I win. And I get to decide what to do, am I right?" I ask.

Demetri nods. Before I can take back what I've said, words pour out of my mouth. "Kiss me."

It takes me a second to realize what I've just requested. My heart beats out of my rib cage or so it seems as Demetri's dark eyes pierce through me. I'm about to explain myself, but within seconds, he's trapped me against the counter, and his lips slam against mine. I'm shocked but something pulls me to close my eyes and give in.

Our tongues dance with one another for a brief second; I feel weightless while shivers trickle down from my head to my toes. I can't help but dig my fingers through his hair and pull him close to me. I feel like I'm on another planet.

Our bodies mold to one another perfectly. I take a deep breath after pulling away but it doesn't last long, seeing as this pull drags me to meet his lips again. It's rough and hungry but it doesn't bother me at all. Something about this kiss feels so right and so wrong. Like it should be happening, but it shouldn't. It was a bitter sweet mixture that seemed to ignite a fire.

We both need air, and back so we lean back to breathe. I let go of him and hold myself up on the counter, panting desperately. I stare at him and he seems just as breathless, and wondering what just happened. I touch my lips, still feeling the faint spark that was there seconds ago.