"let's just fall in love for the hell of it"

•••

Waking up to music was something I thought I would never experience again. I rolled to the other side of my bed, listening intently, trying to understand where it was coming from.

I stood up, rubbing my eyes, and walked directly to the door, slightly opening it, the music flooding into my room a little bit louder than before. Quickly, I changed into a pair of beige cargo pants and slipped on a light blue T-shirt, not bothering with shoes.

Stepping briefly into my bathroom to brush my teeth, I stopped halfway with my toothbrush in my mouth when I recognised what I was doing. Andrew was getting me to behave like a true American these days; I needed to have breakfast first.

My bruised feet stepped into the hallway as I tied my blonde hair into a ponytail, and I curiously followed the sound towards Andrew's private office.

Leaning on the door frame, I peeked into the room, containing a laugh as I realised what was happening.

The curtains were pulled back, and the windows wide open, illuminating the entire place. The desk in the centre was covered with papers, a laptop closed on top of the clutter.

In front of it, a dark sofa and matching living chairs surrounded a low coffee table. Decorative cushions were scattered everywhere, as well as several empty mugs. Resting on a tall bookcase, a record player spun a rock vinyl around.

The atmosphere was full of smoke despite the fresh air coming from outside, so I focused my attention on the cause of it. Andrew sauntered around the desk and had a lit cigarette tucked between his fingers as he mumbled along to the lyrics.

He was only wearing a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips, showing off his lean torso and black tattoos. Andrew was strumming an air guitar, throwing himself onto the sofa and standing on the table, all while taking continuous drags off his cigarette.

Dancing around the room, he launched into an intense guitar solo along with the song, smoke lingering behind every movement he made with his hand. I tiptoed inside and reached out to the vinyl.

When I was about to lift the needle from the disc, Andrew froze in his place on the floor. I began laughing as he turned around, his face stunned. He stood up and paced over to me, a smirk spreading over his lips.

Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me to him and slipped his fingers in between mine. Andrew forced me to dance with him, being careful not to drop his cigarette.

We spun around the room, moving in sync to the quick rhythm of the song. When it ended, we were both heavily breathing as we tried to catch our breaths.

Last night's events had seriously exhausted us.

"And what the hell are you doing here, love?" Andrew finally asked.

"Me?" I smiled, "I came to watch the rockstar perform." His cheeks turned red as he tried to hide them with his hand.

"Was the show to your liking?" he bit his lip.

"Oh, yes, of course," I replied as he brought the cigarette to his mouth, making me raise a questioning eyebrow, "I thought you only smoked after a successful heist?"

"Well," he strolled back to the small table, "After yesterday's circumstances, I think I deserve it." I trailed behind him before sitting on the sofa. Andrew leaned down and crushed the butt of the cigarette on a glass ashtray. "There, happy?" He turned around, towering over me as I met his gaze.

"Much better," I stated as we stared at each other in silence. Andrew bluntly lowered himself next to me, his fingers reaching for a strand of my hair before he tucked it behind my ear. He cupped my face with his hand, and I looked at him.

I leant my back on the sofa's armrest as he moved towards me, and when he was halfway on top of my body, he pressed his lips against mine.

Sighing into the kiss, I eased in his embrace as I felt his warm skin against mine. He feebly slid my shirt upwards, leaving enough room for his hands to settle on my waist.

Wrapping my own around his neck, I tasted the cigarette in his mouth. Suddenly, Andrew cursed, pulling away from me as he brought his hand to his lips.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked, taking my hands back.

"No, no," he replied, smiling, "I'm fine, Sab, just sore from yesterday." His face had a few pieces of medical tape over it, and his mouth was red, stained by last night's blood. "How's your forehead?"

"It could be worse," I brushed my fingers over the bandage on my head, "It does hurt less, though."

"That's good," he muttered, "I should've taken you to the hospital."

"A wound this big does not have a simple explanation," I said, "I would rather let it heal with no help than make up an excuse for it."

"Good point." He moved to get off of me but stopped midway, "By the way, I'm meeting with the crew to discuss what is going to happen now; want to come with me?"

"Sure." Smiling, he planted a kiss on my cheek and stood up. I took his offering hand and used it to rise from the sofa. Andrew did not let go of it and turned to leave. "You are still half-naked." He glanced down at himself and gazed at me with a suggestive look, his eyebrow raised.

"Were you checking me out?"

"What? No, I only noticed it now," I lied, knowing too well I had been staring at him the entire time.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure, Andy," I rolled my eyes.

"You were totally checking me out," he concluded, turning around, "Wait, did you just call me Andy?"

"I-"

"It's nice to know you like me that much, Sab."

Before I could protest, he dragged me out of the office. We passed by his bedroom, where Andrew pulled on a white tank top, smirking at me as he did so.

"I apologise for disrupting your sight," he said as I shook my head. His tattoos were still visible through the thin shirt's material, but I kept that fact to myself as we walked back out and headed downstairs.

We strolled through the corridors, and when we arrived at the conference room, Andrew stopped. He moved to the side without a word, motioning for me to go first.

Right, I always went before him. Seizing the doorknob, I opened the door, and the room fell silent. Everyone had a confused or curious gaze as Andrew entered.

"Good afternoon," he waved, "I know this was sort of unexpected, but I'm here to explain what's going on." He sighed, looked at me, and blurted it out, "You can tell it was a rough night by our injuries." He motioned his hand between us. "But Sabrina was held hostage yesterday."

Surprise took over the faces around the room. "It's alright; we took control over the situation and managed to neutralise the aggressor."

I noticed my tablet lying on the long table, so I stretched my arm out and took it into my grip. Turning to the crew, I began staring down at the screen.

"We are returning to Los Angeles in a couple of days," I stated, "I will send all of you the details later; of course, you are welcome to leave earlier or later than us." Checking my notes, I turned to look at Andrew, "They were all paid."

"Then I think that's it," he said, "Any questions or complaints?" A few of them approached Andrew and, as I was putting my notes back in order, Dahlia suddenly appeared next to me.

"Sabrina, hey," she smiled, her blue eyes scanning my injuries slowly.

"Dahlia," I replied, glancing at her, "Do you need anything?"

"No, I wanted to ask if you were okay."

"I am fine, thank you for checking," I stated before she seized my arm, stopping it from dragging across the screen.

"Let me cut to the chase," she said, "I'm sorry for what I said last time we met; I am in no position to assume that you are in a relationship, especially with our boss." She sighed, letting go. "I know you are strictly professional with him." I stared at her, smirking to myself as I thought about the irony.

"You do not have to apologise," I said, "I was not taking any shit from anyone that day, so I should be the one saying sorry." I grinned. "Besides, you may not be wrong after all." Dahlia's mouth fell wide open as she glanced between Andrew and me.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked, "You are kidding me, right?" I raised my eyebrow at her, and before I could reply, Andrew joined us.

"What are you guys talking about?" he inquired.

"Business stuff," Dahlia stated, turning to me, "I'll see you later." The rest of the crew were already leaving when one of the other women shouted her name.

"Sure." I could feel her staring at us as she left the room, and I knew, by the look on Dahlia's face, that she had seen Andrew's hand go for my hip. She was the last to go, so I put my tablet back down on the table and leaned against it.

"Seriously," he began, "What were you discussing?"

"Nothing," I waved my hand, "Tedious things."

"Oh?" Andrew slipped his other hand around my body, "Are you going to start keeping secrets from me again?"

"No," I declared, beaming, "We were talking about you."

"Me?"

"Did you not hear me?" I rolled my eyes.

"I'm teasing you," he smiled, but I did not return it. Instead, I looked down at my hand and began playing with the ring he had given me.

"I did not mean to hide it from you," I said quietly, "Oliver was a part of my life that I would rather forget. I really despise him for what he did to me."

"I know," Andrew replied, "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that either." He took my hand in his, making me gaze up at him, "It's your decision if you want to share something with me or not, and I should respect whatever you choose to do." He planted a light kiss on my fingers before meeting my eyes.

Winding my arms around him, I embraced him. I decided it was time to explain some bits of my past to him, "My mother was the most magnificent woman I knew; she raised me alone while protecting me from this life." He remained quiet, "I might have failed by being here, but I am safe because of her."

"I do not expect you to feel sorry for me," I continued, "She is gone; I have learnt to accept that. But Oliver was the one who took her from me, and the betrayal I felt was so much that I had to lock him up to keep myself from murdering him."

"Sabrina, I-"

"I know it sounds harsh," I said, "And I cannot help feeling accomplished when I think of what I did yesterday."

"I understand," Andrew assured, "I really do."

"Thank you."

We stared at each other's eyes, and I instantly knew that he knew that I had a question hanging from my lips. He was urging me to inquire about whatever I was about to.

"Are we going to label this?" I asked out of nowhere, feeling my face turn red.

"What?" I began to pull away, but he stopped me.

"Us," I stated, as he held me firmly in place, "Are we going to label us?" Andrew's mouth was in a straight line as our brown eyes met.

"Do you want to label this?" he asked cautiously. I wanted to remove my hands from him, but his own were caging my wrists.

"I am not sure," I replied, "All I know is I need you by my side."

"As your boss?" he mischievously raised an eyebrow, "Or as your boyfriend?"

I grinned; he had said it.

Gripping his fingers, I entangled the ones that shared rings and laughed. Andrew smirked and sighed.

"I didn't expect a yes right away, b-"

"Yes, Andy," I interrupted him, "Of course it is a yes."

"That's it," he lifted me onto the conference table, "You're not allowed to call me Andrew ever again."

"What the-"

His lips were on mine before I could finish the sentence.