My Valentine 9

My Valentine

You're all I need, my love, my Valentine…

by Chloe Tzang

© 2023 Chloe Tzang. All rights reserved. The author asserts a right to be identified as the author of this story. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review. If you see this story on any website other than Literotica, it’s been ripped off without the author’s permission.

And here’s that little note from Chloe again:

Hope you all enjoy my little entry in Literotica’s 2023 Valentine’s Day competition, and for me, it’s not that long either. Not as long as some of my other stories anyhow. So do enjoy and all my best wishes to you for a Happy Valentine’s Day – and guys, buy her red roses, okay…

Chloe

* * * * * *

I've dreamed of this a thousand times before

In my dreams I couldn't love you more

I will give you my heart until the end of time

You're all I need, my love, my Valentine

And even if the sun refused to shine

Even if romance ran out of rhyme

You would still have my heart until the end of time

'Cause all I need is you, my Valentine

You're all I need, my love, my Valentine

“My Valentine,” Shania Yan cover

* * *

He should be here any minute.

Him? My boyfriend, Nicholas, except I don’t call him my boyfriend in front of my family. They don’t like me dating haole guys at all, and if they knew Nicholas was my boyfriend, and not just a date, they’d ground me. My friends cover for me though. I go out with them, and Nicholas just happens to be there. Coincidences? They happen all the time.

Tonight though?

Tonight it’s a real date with Nicholas.

It’s February the 14th. It’s Valentine’s Day, my first Valentine’s Day with Nicholas, and it’s the happiest day of my life. I’m going to the Tennis Club’s Valentine's Day dance with him, but first he’s taking me out to dinner. To the Vintage Cave. I’m wearing a little red evening dress I bought just for tonight, and I’m so excited. Not just because of dinner, and the dance, or that Nicholas is dating me.

I’m sleeping over afterwards at Cindy’s, because my mom and dad are going out for an evening with friends, they’ll be back late, my brothers are going clubbing, and my parents don’t want me home alone. Especially after a date with a haole boy. I think my mom and dad are worried that Nicholas

isn’t

a boy. He’s way older than any guy I’ve dated before. He’s twenty three, five years older than me, and he’s just graduated. He’s working for his dad right now, but he wants to go out on his own.

That’s not important though.

What’s important is that I’m not sleeping over at Cindy’s. She’s covering for me, and Nicholas and I are going to spend the night together. It’s so romantic, and I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this, but I know I am. I want to, so much, with him. We’ve been dating for six months now, and I know I’m in love with him.

I told him I wanted to, with him. I told him that on our last date, and we almost did, but he said wanted to make it special for me, and what could be more special than Valentine's Day. He didn’t tell me where we were going to stay for the night, but the way he smiled at me, I just

know

it’s going to be so romantic. I want to make it special for him, to, and I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I don’t want this to be tacky, with those horrible condoms, so I went to the medical clinic weeks ago, and I don’t have to worry at all.

I can’t wait for him to arrive, and it’s so hard to finish my makeup. Well, finish my lip gloss anyhow, I don’t really need makeup. All I can think of is him. Him and me, together the way we’re going to be at last, and I love him love him love him.

I think I fell in love with him the moment he first spoke to me. He says he fell in love with me the moment he saw me. It doesn’t matter when, exactly. We’re in love, and I know we’ve both been in love since that day we met, six months ago. I wish I could spend every single day with him. Every night too, and tonight I’m really going to. All night. I can’t wait.

I’m so totally in love with him, and I know it’s going to be the perfect end to our Valentine’s Day. Not just that. It’s going to be the happiest Valentine’s Day of my life.

* * *

“Get him,” Cindy Nakamura had nodded towards the café bar door. “He’s new. Wonder who he’s with.”

To get into the Club, you pretty much had to be signed up before you were born, or be able to buy your way in, and buying your way in didn’t happen too often. Limited membership and a waiting list that went on forever. Exclusive. Mom was on the Committee. Cindy’s great-grandparents were founding members. We’d both been playing tennis here since we were five. We knew everyone but neither of us had seen this guy before.

Who’s guest was he?

“Let’s see if Greg knows.” Cindy smiled.

Greg? Greg was the biggest gossip around. He was gay as well, he’d come out this year, very quietly. So quietly his parents had no idea, but we did. Right now, he was off changing. Cindy and I had played doubles with him and Jaime earlier, Greg and Jaime had played a couple more games. Greg was driving us both home later.

Cindy was his cover with his parents. So was I, sometimes. That’s what happens when you grow up together and you’ve been friends since you were babies. I knew my parents would’ve been elated if Greg and I hooked up seriously, but really, he was more like a brother.

The new guy was glancing around, looking for someone? Obviously not finding them. He took a seat at the bar. Juice? Orange juice? I’d watched him drinking. Every movement was fluid, graceful. And oh boy, was he handsome. Very haole, but handsome in that almost English way I remembered from that old Brit DVD I’d watched. Brideshead something or other. Beautifully dressed too, not quite preppy, but it suited him, and it wasn’t like you could get away with jeans or shorts and a tee, not here in the Club. Cindy and I were wearing dresses, and all we usually wore were shorts and a tee. Hawaii. Who dresses formally?

Except at the Tennis Club, which was old-fashioned like that. About a hundred years in the past old-fashioned. The dress rules had barely changed since 1900 or something.

God, he was so hunky…how old was he?

Early twenties maybe? Really, who was he with?

My heart was doing pitters and patters just looking at him.

Cindy giggled. When I’d glanced at her, she’d been looking at me.

“You look like you want to eat him alive, Kiyomi.” Cindy was laughing at me.

Greg had walked in right about then. Cindy had seen him, waved, called out. “Greg, we’re over here.”

Which was pretty obvious, the café bar wasn’t exactly packed. Late afternoon. Almost everyone our age had left, and the older members wouldn’t turn up until later, early evening.

He’d waved back but instead of joining us, he’d walked towards the bar, right up to that new guy. God, that new guy wasn’t gay was he? What a total waste if he was. I must’ve groaned out loud without realizing it, because Cindy had laughed at me. She was still laughing when the two of them walked over to join us.

“Cindy, Kiyomi, this is Nicholas, he’s moved here from the mainland.”

“From the UK, actually,” he’d said. Oh my god. His accent.

He looked and sounded like he was out of a movie.

“Hi Nicholas,” Cindy and I chirped in unison.

“Please to meet you, Kiyomi,” he said, holding out his hand to me.

I took it, and there was this electric shock that ran through me as his hand engulfed mine. His eyes met mine. Eyes that I could drown in, and I did, mesmerized, as we gazed into each other's souls.

He’d laughed, afterwards, when I’d told him that, but it was true, I know it was.

Nicholas took the seat right beside me. Smiled. At me. His eyes met mine again, and I fell into them all over again, instantaneously.

“You two should get a room.” Cindy was laughing at me all over again.

“Cindy!” My cheeks burned. Nicholas smiled, and I smiled back, almost shyly.

“Is anyone hungry?” he asked. “I am, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“I’m starving,” I said. “Playing always makes me hungry.”

“Not me,” Cindy said. “Ken’s picking me up in half an hour, he’s taking me out to some restaurant.”

“Me neither,” Greg said. “Why don’t you two go grab something.” He glanced at Nicholas. “You drove here, right? Can you drop Kiyomi off at home?”

“If that’s alright with you, Kiyomi?” His eyes gazed into mine, melting me. Sending little shivers through me.

“Of course it is,” I said. God, I hope I didn’t sound too eager.

* * *

I walked out into the parking lot with him. It was the Tennis Club, it was a discreetly tucked away parking lot, surrounded by trees and flowering shrubs that always smelled divine. Turned out his family were members.

“Dad bought a cottage here thirty years ago,” he said. “Him and mom joined the club back then, but this is the first time I’ve been here.” He shrugged. “They used to come here when I was off at boarding school.”

“Boarding school? Like in Harry Potter?” I asked.

He laughed. “Kind of. I went to one called Harrow. Hey, my car’s here.”

Which was his? There were quite a few cars parked out there, but there was only one in front of us, and we were walking towards it. A sports car? A convertible? A very old fashioned looking car like you see in a Vintage Car Museum or something. It was painted a glossy dark green.

“Here, jump in,” he said, opening the passenger side door.

“This is yours?” I said, eyes wide.

“Yeah, she is,” he said, holding the door open for me as I slid in and down into a soft leather embrace. The door shut, he walked around the back and slid into the driver's seat beside me with casual ease, buckling his seatbelt and starting the engine. A low throaty rumble.

The seat I was sitting in was so comfortable, upholstered in soft dark brown leather. It really was a lovely looking car, like nothing I’d ever been in before. Almost like something from a museum. I glanced at him.

“What

is

this car, it’s so cool.” The dashboard looked like it was actually made of wood, so real that I had to reach out and stroke it with my fingers.

He grinned. “It’s real wood, he said. “Walnut.”

All the instruments looked almost antique.

“It’s an old Morgan,” he said, changing gear as we pulled out. A stick shift, manual, not automatic. I didn’t know anyone who drove a manual. For sure I didn’t know anyone with a car like this. I’d never heard of a Morgan.

“Morgan Plus Eight,” he added. It wasn’t as if that meant anything to me. I must’ve looked puzzled.

“It’s a British sports car,” he said, “they’re mostly handmade, they still use wood for a lot of the body and they’re still made by hand, they’ve been around for over a hundred years and they make their cars the way they used to, way back when. They don’t make that many of them, only a few hundred a year. You have to sign up and go on a waiting list and wait your turn if you want a new one.”

“Really?” I said. I was actually impressed. Most guys go on and on about their cars but what’s special about a Porsche or a BMW or those Italian cars with funny names? We were getting looks from people in other cars, more as we got closer to downtown, threading through the traffic. “Where did you get it?”

“Mom and Dad gave it to me,” he said, changing up, accelerating.I love the sound of that engine, that throaty burble. “My twenty-first birthday present. I’ve had it for two years now. The car’s older than I am.” He grinned.

I blinked. He was twenty three? Five years older than me. He looked younger. Okay, I’d never dated someone that much older than me before but why not. There wasn’t any reason not to date him. If he asked me out on a date of course, and I hoped he would. I’d thought he was at College. Maybe he still was? I asked him.

He shook his head. “Graduated last year,” he said, “Masters in Computer Science, MIT, I’m taking a break before I go into the family business.”

“Family business?” I asked. I knew all about that.

My Dad had a “family” business. Property investing. My Dad owns property here, on the West Coast in San Francisco and LA, in Singapore and Malaysia and Australia. There’s other investments as well. It’s a privately held business, not public. We don’t flaunt being wealthy. To anyone who doesn’t know my parents that well, we’re just an ordinary middle class family. Nice house and everything, members of the Tennis Club, the Waikiki Yacht Club and a couple of others, but aside from that, nothing that stands out.

Nicholas shrugged. “Bits of this and that,” he said, “We’ve got an old house and some farmland in Shropshire, back home, and Dad invests. He has a couple of techie companies back in Palo Alto, some other stuff back at home in the UK, and mom has a couple of businesses in London that she runs.”

I nod. Their family must be well-off, but of course I’d guessed

that

. You didn’t get to become a member of the Tennis Club unless you were. Well-off enough to buy Nicholas this lovely sports car too. A good education? Well, MIT wasn’t bad, although I was thinking of Oxford or Cambridge myself. Anyhow, he had a relaxed self-assured confidence that I liked.

“Italian?” he’d asked, a few minutes later, interrupting himself telling me about where he’d grown up in the UK. It sounded lovely. I’d always wanted to learn to ride horses but mom had thought it was too dangerous. Weird, because I’d surfed since I was about ten years old, and she didn’t think

that

was dangerous at all. “I’m sorry, I forgot to ask what you liked.”

He gave me that quick grin that was already making my heart dance. “I was enjoying talking to you so much.”

“Italian’s fine,” I’d said, and it had been. We’d talked on and on, stopping while I called to let mom know where I was, and then right through dinner, and then he’d driven me home.

“I’d like to see you again, Kiyomi.” He’d glanced at me and smiled as he pulled over to the side of the street outside home.

My heart had done more than pitter and patter. It’d jumped and leapt and danced. I didn’t hesitate, not for a second. A girl doesn’t like to appear too eager, but a girl only has one life as well, and guys like Nicholas didn’t grow on trees. She who hesitates loses out. I’d seen that little tramp Michelle Kwan giving him the eye when we’d been talking at the Tennis Club. I’d seen her turn green when I walked out with him.

“Here’s my cell number, and my email,” I’d said, taking my Galaxy out.

He’d keyed it into his iPhone, along with my address and my email.

“Maybe I could ask you out on a date next week, Kiyomi?” he’d eyed me. Did he actually look nervous?

I was. My heart was pounding. Tongue-tied. I actually

was

tongue-tied. Me? Finally, I managed to speak.

“Sure,” I’d said, sounding totally normal. “I’d love that.”

“Saturday evening? Pick you up around seven? Dinner?”

“Mmmm,” I smiled. “I’d love that too.”

“Great,” he’d said, looking like he wanted to kiss me, but too nervous to make that first move.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing you again, Nicholas,” I’d said, and then I did something I’d never done before. I turned, and I twisted in towards him, and I kissed him. Really really kissed him, and then I smiled as I drew back, enjoyed that shell-shocked expression. I’d never seen a guy look like

that

after a first kiss before. There hadn’t been that many seconds kisses though, which reminded me.

“Umm, Nicholas. My parents, they’re pretty strict. You’ll have to come in and meet my Dad. And my brothers, they’re very, uuhhh, protective.” I thought about that for a second. “Umm, really, they’re assholes and they always give all my dates a hard time. It’s totally embarrassing but they’re just total assholes like that. So umm, when you pick me up, don’t let them get to you, okay…. I’m sorry, it’s just, that’s how they are.”

Jesus, I was so not going to let them screw this up.

* * *

I hadn’t been wrong about my brothers.

That next Saturday, the doorbell had rung and I hadn’t been quite ready. My heart had jumped. So did my hand. Lip-gloss went where it shouldn’t.

I had to fix it before I could go downstairs.

“Your date’s here, Kiyomi.” Lester called from the front door. One of my older brothers. They’re all older brothers. Far too many of them, although Lester and Johnny were the only two still at home.

“Let him in then,” I called back down. “And be nice to him, okay.

Really

nice. Don’t be assholes the way you usually are. I really like this guy.”

Honestly, big brothers can be such a pain in the ass. Good thing there were only two of them still living at home. When all four of them were at home it was far far worse. I was hoping they didn’t intimidate Nicholas too much. I’d dated a few guys over the last two years. Nothing serious, thank goodness, because most of them didn’t come back for a second date. Protective is, like, way to mild a description for my brothers’ attitude.

My Dad’s not protective. He’s just intimidating. Even to me.

I’d given them the hard word this time. I really wanted Nicholas to last more than one date. A lot more. I thought I might already be in love with him. I couldn’t stop smiling whenever I thought about him. Is that what love was like? I wasn’t sure back then, but I knew I’d never felt like that about a guy before. I was worried about my brothers though. I needed to hurry before they went into full asshole mode.

The front door opened.

“So you’re the haole asshole that wants to date our little sister?” Too late. That growl was Lester. Okay, he

had

toned the attitude down. Last time he told my date it was the wrong address, and I’d never heard from him again. My date that is. I’d have been far happier never to have heard from Lester again.

“Yes, that’s me,I’m afraid.” Nicholas sounded completely unfazed and very very English. “I’m Nicholas, I assume you’re one of Kiyomi’s scary brothers.”

I smiled as I finished applying my gloss. Bright red. It was the first time I’d used bright red lip gloss. It was the first time I’d worn a Little Black Dress and heels on a date. It wasn’t the first time I’d dated a haole guy. God, I so hoped this went okay and there was a second date. I’d never managed a second date with a haole guy. If they scared him off, I was going to be so mad.

Still, it was an ordeal all my dates had to face, there wasn’t any optional pass on meeting my family and my dad always insisted my dates come to the house and pick me up. In person, not just from the driveway.

“That’s me,” Lester growled. “The big one here is Johnny.”

I knew I’d better get downstairs before they started needling Nicholas. They were bastards like that. A year ago they’d had one of my dates crying in the foyer. That was

so

embarrassing and he never did ask me out again. I’d liked him a lot too. When I’d made it to the foyer, Johnny and Nicholas were shaking hands.

Nicholas was holding a huge bunch of red roses in one hand. He was as tall as Johnny but not heavy set the way Johnny was. He looked as elegantly casual as he had when I’d met him at the Tennis Club. Elegantly casual and just so hunky. Looking at him as I walked down the stairs, I wanted to rub myself up against him and miaow. The two of them, they were going for that power grip, their knuckles white. Nicholas was smiling happily. Johnny’s face was a little strained.

“Johnny,” I said, sharply. “Let go of his hand. Now.”

Johnny looked at me. Nicholas looked like he was reluctant to relax his grip. I smiled when Johnny shook his hand a little after Nicholas released his grip. They were both flexing their fingers, cracking their knuckles. Nicholas was smiling. He must have won that one.