Always Belle Ch. 09

The morning after the PSG-Madrid match, Belle returned to Vi's apartment looking calm, cool, and collected, with nary a word or reaction as to her whereabouts last night. She had enjoyed an overnight stay with my favorite player Enriqué, at whatever nice Parisian hotel he had the pleasure of fucking her bareback in.

It was so unsettling sitting across from Vi and Belle at the breakfast table. Everything seemed business-as-usual, despite the elephant in the room—that Belle potentially knew I had spied on her at Rodrigo's house.

As the day unfolded, Adam and Vi continued playing gracious hosts, taking us out to sightsee around Paris. I wish I could've enjoyed the Eiffel Tower and Louvre more, but I was on edge every microsecond I spent in Belle's presence, wondering if she would find ways to interrogate me about my sunglasses being outside that sports room. My anxiety had me crafting all sorts of alibis in my head, ready to fire if needed.

To my surprise (and relief), Belle hadn't resurfaced the topic with me in the least. No coded hints, no clever subterfuge on her part. It had me wondering if perhaps she didn't know I had spied on her at all. Were my worries all just in my head?

***

At the end of the night, Vi and Adam saw us off at some private airport, where we exchanged warm farewells and a promise to meet again soon. Belle and I made our way onto the actual tarmac, where some crew members had come to receive our luggage. It soon became obvious to me we were being directed toward a humongous private jet...

"Detour Ken!" Belle announced. "We're not going home quite yet. We're traveling south to meet up with your uncle."

"Oh nice!" I replied, remembering Uncle Artie had traveled to Italy for business.

Belle stepped onto a staircase that led into the sleek-looking plane. I followed her into the cabin and took note of the interior, the off-white upholstery, the breathable layout. So unlike the cramped commercial planes I'd only ever flown on.

"Sol, oh my god!" Belle shouted. "What are you doing here!"

I observed Belle's agent, whom I'd remembered meeting in Vegas outside Roost nightclub, stand up from his seat to hug her.

"Belle, love! Had a feeling my flight-mate would be someone special."

"You remember Ken." Belle turned around to re-introduce me.

"For sure! Artie's nephew." Sol cheerily stepped forward to shake my hand.

"Nice to see you again," I politely greeted. "Are you flying with us to meet my uncle too?"

"Not quite," he chuckled. "But it'll be a welcome overlap. I'm headed to Italy to meet up with a client."

"AKA another model not named me." Belle playfully embraced her agent from behind, her chin dug into his shoulder. "Trying to make me jealous, huh Sol."

"Gotta keep my number one client humble somehow," he quipped.

With Belle's arms wrapped around him, Sol then leaned forward, lifting her off her feet, causing her to yelp. He brought his hands under her thighs, carrying her on his back. "Belle, love, let's talk shop in the back. I got a call about a movie role for you. Since when did Rodrigo turn Scorsese?"

As Sol gave Belle a piggyback ride, I couldn't help but admire the way her ass looked in her stretchy pink pants, legs flared out, testing the fabric.

Belle spoke to me over her shoulder. "Ken, don't be shy with the service. It's all paid for." She then reached back to slap Sol's butt like he was a racehorse, getting him to giddy up. He playfully returned the spank, grabbing a handful of her pink polyester.

I watched the pair settle in the lounge area in the back, facing each other. Interestingly, they now had professional looks on their faces, like they'd just entered a serious business meeting.

I guess I had the front of the cabin all to myself now. I plopped onto a plush white recliner, noting the letter V embroidered into its headrest.

"Evening sir. Champagne?" An attendant in a dark gray uniform greeted me, presenting three bubbly flutes on a platter.

I happily took one then pointed my thumb at my headrest. "Excuse me, do you know what the V stands for?"

The attendant tilted her head with a look of incredulity, questioning whether or not I was joking. "The V sir—it's for Viktor."

***

The champagne made me severely drowsy. I ended up taking a little nap in the comfiest airplane seat ever. When I awoke, I almost forgot I was still in the air. As I reacquainted myself with my surroundings, I turned in my seat to scan down the length of the cabin.

At the very back of the plane, I caught the restroom door gently swinging open. Out walked Belle, followed by Solomon, who was zipping up his pants. Belle abruptly pointed for her agent to go back inside. In return, he gave her a look of annoyance, flipping his hands frontward and back, as if showing her they were clean.

Belle simply shook her head and nudged him back into the restroom. I could make out Solomon at the faucet, washing his hands thoroughly with soap. When he finished, he exited once more and mockingly showed his hands to Belle.

She rolled her eyes in jest, then started making her way in my direction. I swiftly turned back around in my seat and feigned sleep as her footsteps grew louder. The sound of squeaky leather let me know that she had returned to her seat across from me.

I then pretended to wake from my slumber, flexing my wingspan outward for effect.

"Had a nice nap?" Belle asked me.

I fake yawned. "Are we almost there?"

"Soon." Belle subtly adjusted the hem of her yoga pants.

Just when I thought I'd spotted a wet stain between her legs, she crossed them too fast for me to confirm.

I wanted to ask Belle about her chat with Solomon earlier, genuinely curious her thoughts about the potential role in Rodrigo's movie. But then I quickly remembered, that that topic was way too close for my comfort. I didn't want her mentioning anything remotely related to my presence outside that sports room. Agh! Like nails on a chalkboard, I visibly cringed at the mere thought of being found out.

"Whoa!" Belle exclaimed.

"What happened?" I picked my head up.

"Enzo!" She tossed me her phone. "He got arrested for drug possession."

For a second, I thought she was showing me her Vanishhh thread with the singer. But when I looked at her phone, it was only a news article.

Apparently, Enzo had gotten pulled over for speeding, which somehow turned into the cops making a happenstance discovery, spotting a small bag of cocaine in the singer's shirt pocket. I recalled that my friend Devin had blackmailed Enzo into giving up duffel bags worth. How ironic was it then, that the singer ended up getting busted for an infinitesimally smaller amount.

"Think he's going to do serious jail time?" I asked, handing Belle her phone back.

"Unlikely," she replied, seeming unbothered.

The sound of loud snorting got my attention. I turned around to catch Sol in the back, doing a line of cocaine by himself, before returning to work on his laptop.

"Have you ever done coke Ken?" Belle asked, probably noting my focus.

"Uhhh," I hesitated, a bit taken aback by the somewhat invasive question. "I've mostly stuck to weed... Um, how about you?"

She chuckled. "I don't know a model who hasn't, don't judge me please," she cutely smiled.

"So what's it feel like?"

"I dunno. Good, I guess? It's like a boost to your brain."

"Interesting."

"Are you curious to try it?" She followed.

"Now?"

"Oh definitely not. It's late, silly. We should get a good night's rest. I asked in general."

"Um, I mean, I'll try anything once. I have always wondered what it feels like to be on it," I answered truthfully.

"So you don't have an addictive personality then?"

"Not when it comes to drugs," I replied, of course keeping my own Belle-centric addictions to myself.

"Gotcha. Well listen Ken, this might sound backwards but... If you were to ever try coke just to try it, I'd rather it be in a safe space with me looking after you. God knows what psychos do nowadays, lacing all sorts of dangerous things together."

I nodded my head in understanding, appreciating her caretaking sentiment more than anything.

***

It was some late, ungodly hour when our private jet finally landed. There were two cars waiting for us on the edge of the tarmac: one for Sol, one for Belle and I.

After saying bye to her agent, Belle and I jumped into a black car, where we were now being chauffeured by some soft-spoken, middle-aged Italian man who introduced himself as Alessandro.

At some point, our driver picked up a call on his earpiece, speaking in his native tongue. I was tempted to use the Blingo translation app to understand him, but there was a sense of apprehension in his tone. It felt rude for me to eavesdrop.

After his call, Alessandro relayed to us in English that his wife just informed him of a major emergency. Their daughter had gotten into a bad car accident and was rushed to the hospital. Distress in his voice, he admitted that we were still far from my uncle's destination, and that he was feeling conflicted about what he should do.

Belle, bless her soul, told him that we should be the least of his worries. Told him he could drop us off at a hotel, so that he could go straight to the hospital afterward. The poor guy felt so bad, he offered to cover any of our overnight lodging costs, which Belle shot down immediately.

Instead, Belle googled the nearest hotel with availability, booking something on the fly. When Alessandro finally dropped us off, he unloaded our luggage and expressed his eternal gratitude alongside a stream of apologies, before hurriedly setting off on the road.

When Belle and I entered the dinky hotel's lobby, I turned to ask her, "Should we call Uncle Artie? Maybe he can get us."

"He and I have already been texting. I told him not to worry. You and I will get some rest and meet up with him tomorrow, fully-charged."

Belle and I trudged over to our room after she checked us in. It didn't even occur to me until we were outside the door that I wouldn't have my own suite. When we stepped inside, the sleeping situation proved precarious. The modest room only had one bed...

"Did they give us the wrong one?" I asked.

Belle sighed, then handed me her phone. I saw the booking confirmation for myself—it listed two single beds...

"We should complain Belle. This isn't right," I argued.

"Honestly Ken, I'm exhausted, and it's so late. Anyway, we'll be out of here before we know it. We'll make it work. I'm gonna wash up." Belle retrieved her toiletry bag from her suitcase and entered the bathroom.

Shit, I guess we were sharing a bed then. I wondered how this was going to work. Sleep head to toe? Wedge pillows in between? Jesus, my dick also felt confused. This should've been a scenario that had me hard in an instant, but my erection was somewhere in between.

I changed into comfier sleeping clothes while Belle was in the bathroom. When she walked out, she returned to her suitcase and pulled out tiny track shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

Intending to give her some privacy to change, I started walking with my own toiletry bag in hand toward the bathroom.

"So here's the plan for tomorrow," Belle declared, getting me to stop and listen. "I'll wake up early, get the hotel manager to comp us transport to where your uncle's staying. It's the least they can do for us. Good idea right, Ken?"

"Yeah, I think—" I suddenly choked up. To my surprise, Belle had lifted her top up and off, revealing a plain bra underneath. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea Belle," I muttered, trying to act natural while watching her drape her XXL tee on, just mere feet away from me.

"Cool. Your uncle says Viktor's inviting us on his yacht to celebrate their recent deal. There'll be swimming, drinks, and probably a lot of business mogul types. Sound interesting to you?"

"Yeah that sounds—" I paused, distracted now watching Belle pull down her pink yoga pants, her oversized shirt masking her privates. She then slipped on track shorts beneath the generous length of her tee.

"Um, yacht sounds fun," I said, finally finishing my thought.

What the hell was happening right now? Belle was undressing so nonchalantly in front of me, like we were two bros in a locker room, no hints of impropriety or motive on her part.

To my surprise, Belle then retracted her arms through her sleeves, both limbs disappearing inside her shirt. She brought them behind her back, where she unhooked her bra, pulling it down her shoulders and through her arms, extracting it from underneath her shirt. She then lazily tossed it over her suitcase.

"Which side of the bed do you prefer?" She finally looked up at me.

"I'll take the window side," I blurted out, not really caring either way. I was more focused on diverting my eyes from the outline of her nipples denting thin cotton. "Should I brush my teeth now?"

"Ken, you don't need my permission to do that," she innocently smiled at my silly question.

Minutes later, I exited the bathroom to find Belle comfortably tucked under the covers, her eyes closed. She hadn't fiddled with the bed set up at all. No head to toe arrangement. No pillows wedged in-between. I guess I really was sleeping next to her.

When I settled under the covers on my side, I could feel my heart beginning to beat, my cock finally starting to react. I desperately looked forward to masturbating to this memory in the future.

As I reached for my bedside lamp to turn it off, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey Ken..."

I turned around to see Belle lying on her side, facing me. She had a forlorn look on her face, stained by tired eyes. "Can I ask you something?"

I nodded my head, unsure what to expect.

"Have you, um... ever had thoughts... of hurting yourself?" She asked, a vulnerability in her voice.

I took a second to process, trying to decipher in real-time any subtext.

She added, "If you ever do, we can always talk about it. I'll be here."

"Okay," I eventually replied, unsure how to answer any differently.

She lent me a soft smile, then turned back to face the other way.

I turned off my bedside lamp and closed my eyes, my burgeoning erection no longer a thing.

***

I woke up the next morning, disoriented. I turned my head to confirm that I was really living in this reality, one in which I had slept in the same bed as Belle.

When I turned to face her, she wasn't next to me though...

Then I heard the sound of a heavy door opening. In walked Belle, already dressed, holding a beverage tray with two coffees and pastry bags.

"Morning Ken!" She greeted me with a bright smile. Then she randomly giggled. "Camping at a hotel?"

I immediately looked down my body and got the reference. Fuck! My morning wood was modestly tenting the bed covers. Deeply embarrassed, I twisted my body the other way.

"Don't worry, it's natural," she kindly downplayed. "I'll go down to reception and sort out our transport situation. Enjoy some breakfast."

"Thanks!" I croaked out, feeling red in the face.

Half an hour later, it turned out Belle was successful in getting our hotel to secure us what would've been an otherwise pricey taxi ride. After breakfast, we packed up and finally set off for Uncle Artie's location.

When we eventually arrived in Porto Cervo, I could already feel the extreme wealth oozing through the scenic seaside. This was a place I hadn't heard of until this trip, but I quickly gathered it was where billionaires and their yachts came to play.

Uncle Artie greeted us outside the private villa he was staying at. He showered Belle with loving kisses, which she happily received and gave back.

I balanced our multiple luggage handles, following my uncle and Belle inside the cozy home, where the breezy feel and natural light were welcome perks. As I stepped onto the outdoor terrace, I couldn't help but bask in the priceless view of the Mediterranean Sea in the distance.

"Cool view, right?" Uncle Artie suddenly addressed me from behind, carrying Belle in his arms. "Hate to strip you from it Ken, but I haven't seen my fiancé here in more days than I'd prefer. Mind if I have some alone time with Belle? There's a nice café near the marina that you can hang out at."

I politely smiled my compliance. It was obvious what my uncle was implying. But good lord, how loud did they plan to be...

His arms still cradling Belle, Uncle Artie said to her. "B, take the euros from my chest pocket and give it to Ken. Some spending money for the café."

I walked over to take the cash from her, catching the interesting look on her face. It was almost as if she felt bad I was being temporarily evicted.

***

When I walked down to the marina, I found the specific café that Uncle Artie had recommended. I ordered a pastry to snack on, as well as my second cup of coffee for the day.

Killing time on the café's sunny patio, I snapped a photo of the Mediterranean, framing it alongside vibrant green hills in the background. I liked the photo so much, I uploaded it to my social media.

A few minutes later, I got a notification that Eva had liked my post. I was then reminded of Paris, when she had done the same thing after I'd posted a pic from inside the stadium. This time though, she also left a comment: "Beautiful location! Where is that?"

I contemplated what I wanted to do. Respond? Or continue ghosting her.

-She's being nice Ken. You can't be a dick to her your entire life.

-I know that. And I don't want to be one either.

My pride swallowed, I responded to Eva's caption with an Italian flag emoji and the words: "Porto Cervo."

I then received a direct message from her: "Free to talk? =)".

I found myself smiling, responding to her with a thumbs up emoji.

Seconds later, I answered her call. "Hello?"

"Hi stranger. It's been a minute." Eva's soft voice felt good to hear. "What have you been up to in France and Italy? You become a jet-setting secret agent overnight?"

"Would a secret agent be posting his locations on social media?" I said in jest, chuckling.

"I'm a fucking idiot Ken..."

"It's cool Eva, it's not that serious," I replied, surprised by her expletive.

"No Ken. I really am an idiot..." She sounded heartfelt. "I had some time to think about us since the last time I saw you at that ice cream shop..."

I refreshed my memory. The night of Eden's restaurant opening, I had treated Eva like I couldn't have cared less about her, making it seem like I was out with another girl, trying to make her jealous.

Eva continued, "I get it now. You were mad at me. I gathered that Colin probably told you he and I fooled around. It's true, I won't lie to you. I'm sorry if I hurt you. It was never my intention."

I took a long pause to sort through my feelings, trying to absorb this avalanche of stimuli. This was the apology I had always wanted from Eva, and now I was getting it. It felt so nice to hear, like soothing medicine. I embraced the surge of warmth.

"...Ken? Still there?"

"Yep, definitely." I cleared my throat, readying my words. "Eva, I'm sorry too. I may have acted out in some ways. In terms of how things had played out between you and Colin, I can see your side of it too. Clearer now than before."

There was a pause, but not an awkward one. I could tell she was processing.

She finally responded, "Ken... Can we start over? Maybe as friends first."

"I like the sound of that," I affirmed, genuinely meaning it.

I thought I had always wanted more with Eva. But maybe that was just hormones—me falling headfirst for any girl that showed an interest in little me. To be honest, being friends first probably should've been our starting point. If so, who knows how things would've naturally evolved from there. In any case, it felt like Eva and I had found alignment now. A symmetry.