"Are you going out first or am I?"
                          
"No, I'll go."
                          
It takes all my strength to slip out of the photo booth and leave Sidra. I don't want to leave her, that's the last thing I would ever want to do. And it's not just sexual, If I could I would go back in there and tell her everything about me. I saw how much it hurt her that she couldn't tell me much about myself. I'll tell her whatever she wants to make her happy.
                          
"Roback." Jackson startles me, but I don't jump. I already know what he's going to say. "Have you seen Sidra?"
                          
He and Burkhardt ask me that every fucking time. It's annoying as shit and at first, it made my heart race, but now I'm used to the pain it causes. "I think I saw her heading upstairs," I lie. "Why?"
                          
"Nothing. It seemed like she was enjoying the party but then I saw her talking to her mother a few minutes ago and now she's missing, I figured something happened."
                          
"I'm sure she's fine," I tell him for the millionth time. He's constantly worried about her, it's annoying. "Hey, listen, I gotta go." I rush off before he could say anything and head towards the guest house. 
                          
Sidra
                          
After staring at my photo strip for a few minutes, I call it, tuck it in my strapless bra then leave the booth. I walked around for a bit, making small talk with people I passed. I sipped on my champagne while I waited. Probably ten minutes have ticked by and after going insane, I figured it was enough time. I set my glass down and ran off to the guest house. 
                          
I slip through the front door easily then shut it. It's pitch black inside, I reach for the light switch. 
                          
"Don't." As always, Sam's voice startles me. But he takes a step farther by putting a hand over my mouth. "It's just me," he whispers in my ear. It surprisingly clams me. He moves his hand from my mouth, and I spin around and shove at his chest. "I'm sorry!" He laughs. "But the guest house is far away from the party, if you screamed and someone was walking by, they could hear you."
                          
"You could've said something when I walked in," I mumble. 
                          
"And scare you in the doorway where anyone can see you?"
                          
I roll my eyes. "Shush!" 
                          
He chuckles. "Do you know your way around?"
                          
I nod then remember he can't see me. "Yeah."
                          
"Can you lead us upstairs?"
                          
"Yeah." I search through the dark for his hand. I find it almost instantly and lead him towards the staircase. "Stairs," I tell him. We climb the stairs with no issue. I notified him when the stairs ended, and we move down the hall and step into the master bedroom. "Can I turn on the lights?"
                          
"Yeah." He squeezes my hand before releasing it. I flip the light switch then squint at the sudden bright light filling the large room. After my eyes adjust, I lift them, searching for Sam. 
                          
I gasp. 
                          
Sam's holding a long stem white rose. "Happy birthday," he hands me the rose. The moment my skin touches it, I feel it's fake. "It's fake," he rushes out. "I know you prefer real ones, but I thought you deserved one that won't live its life and die."
                          
I smile. He knows that too. "Thank you," I whisper. As much as I love the flower, I know there's more to our little meeting. I place it on a nearby dresser and approach Sam. "Do you want me?"
                          
He nods. "Yes." I reach up and begin to remove his jacket. "Are you sure?"
                          
"Yes." He plants little kisses on my cheeks and forehead as I remove undress him. When I make it down to his boxers, he leans down and kisses me. I step out of my heels but then quickly rise on my toes so our height difference won't bother him. He tugs at my dress, nearly ripping it as he yanks it out. It pools around my feet when it hits the floor. I step out of it and kick it to the side. All of this while we still kiss. He reaches behind me and, with no issue at all, he unhooks my bra. I mentally wince. I still struggle to remove my bra, how many bras has he removed?