by Jessica Roe
Her face softens and she reaches across the table to take my hand, the engagement ring on her finger twinkling in the low lights of the diner. I hold on tight, like I'm clutching on to her for my life. Maybe I am. “I know. It was different for us. But you know I'm right.”
I heave a sigh, because I do.
Blair is always fucking right.
+++
WE HANG OUT a few more hours, our remaining time spent on much lighter topics, and then I make the long drive back to Fortune. But when I get there I keep on going, right through to Norson Lake. I give Ivy a call on the way, and she confirms Phee is working in the thrift store, so it's with a heavy heart I pull up and make my way inside.
I have it all planned out inside my head what I'm going to say to her, even practiced it in the car a dozen times on the way over. I'll keep it short, I'll keep it simple, and then I'll leave. I'll apologize, tell her she was right; the two of us need to stay apart and I'm going to respect her wishes and leave her be. I'm going to let her go. No more drunken visits, no more heated arguments. Not a thing. After all these years, Phee and I will finally be one hundred percent done.
The thrift store is empty except for Phee, balancing precariously on the edge of a stool in the middle of the room as she changes a light bulb.
I freeze, something inside me fucking exploding.
It's not from the way her ass looks in those jeans, or from the glimpse of skin I can see where her top has ridden up from reaching her arms above her head. It's not the way the dim sunlight hits her just right through the window, making her appear to glow. It's not even how she bites that bottom lip of hers in concentration as she screws the light bulb in place.
No.
It's the tattoo I spot on her hip, the one I can only see because of the way her top has lifted. It's that small tattoo. It's that simple tattoo. It's the letter N that marks her skin in the most beautiful way I ever could have imagined.
OVER THE NEXT few days that followed the epic disaster which should have been mine and Phee's first date, she was all I could think about when I was awake, and all I could dream about when I slept. She was everywhere, and there was nothing I could do to shake her.
It made me grouchy as shit to the point where every one of my friends were not only noticing, but getting sick of me and my bad attitude. In the end I guess I got so bad that Ivy finally reached the end of her limit. She sat me down and told me in no uncertain terms that in one way or another, I was going to get my crap together and I was going to do it right the heck away before she had to kick my butt. That kinda frightened me in a way that getting an ass kicking from the guys just didn't.
“If you really think this girl is worth something,” she'd snapped, crossing her arms and glaring down at me like a furious teacher. “then you need to stop being a little bitch and go fight for her. And if you don't think she's worth it, then get the heck over it already and quit sulking about a girl you only knew a couple days. Jack ass.”
I suspected the whole idea of a forbidden romance secretly appealed to the sappy teenage girl part of Ivy she liked to pretend didn’t exist, but she would never admit to that because she was the most unromantic girl in the whole state and proud of it.
But her words, they made sense to me. They pierced through the thick haze of resentment I'd been harboring and resounded around in my brain. I sat up from where I'd been slouching and nodded slowly. “Yeah,” I'd said. “YEAH! I'm doing this shit. I'm gonna go fight for her!”
Ivy rolled her eyes. She seemed to spend a lot of time rolling her eyes at us guys. “Well duh.”
+++
IT WAS AFTER ten when I found myself sneaking over to Phee's house that night. I was so paranoid about her jolly green giant of a father catching me that I parked my car almost half a mile away and jogged the rest of the distance, jumping at every shadow like it was him ready to pop out of a bush and grind my bones to make his bread.
I did my best to figure out which window belonged to her and prayed to God I was fucking right before reaching up and tapping on it. I was grateful at least that it was on the first floor because climbing up trellises had never been a strong suit of mine.
It took approximately two seconds for her bedroom curtains to part, and then her bewildered looking face was peering through the glass, trying to make sense of the noise. For a moment she looked excited – fuck that, she looked thrilled – to see me standing on the other side of the window, until she clearly remembered herself and why it was she was supposed to hate me and she schooled her face into an angry, unimpressed mask. Watching her thought process play out across her face was amusing. It was fucking adorable. She was as easy to read as an open book.
She cracked the window open, but only a little. “What're you doing here?” she hissed, shooting a worried glance behind her like she expected one of her parents to barge in at any moment. “No, screw that. I don't care. Go away! Ugh, what are you even doing here?!”
I wanted to smile as I watched the angry, resentful part of her battle with the teenage girl in her who wanted answers, but I was pretty sure if she caught even a hint of amusement coming from me then that bedroom window would be getting slammed in my face so fast I wouldn't even have time to pull back the fingers I had resting on the wooden frame.
“Come out and talk to me,” I begged in a whisper. Yeah, I wasn't above begging. That ship had sailed. “Please.”
Her brow furrowed like she couldn't figure out my deal. Kind of couldn't blame her. “What? No!”
“Just for five minutes.” This time I did smile at her, and I threw every ounce of God given charm I had into it. That shit always worked with girls.
So obviously it had absolutely no effect on her. Great. Just when I needed it to work the most.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Well I have a whole bunch I need to say to you, Quinlain.” When she didn't seem like she was about to budge, I had to come up with a new plan sharpish. I thought back to that first day we'd met by the lake and a corner of my mouth turned up in a smirk as I got it. “Come on, Phee. Come out here. I dare you. Or are you too scared?”
I almost laughed out loud at the determined fury that stole over her face. Almost. I wasn't quite that idiotic.
Yeah, I had this girl pegged.
“Jerk,” she grumbled, even as she pushed the window open further so she could climb out and join me on the grass outside, damp from the night air. The fact that she was barefoot didn't seem to bother her.
God, this girl was fucking awesome.
Without another word, we moved silently into the woods and picked our way through the trees for only a minute before she deemed it safe enough to talk without worry of her parents seeing or hearing anything. We stopped in a small, grassy clearing. It was dark inside the woods, but enough moonlight shone through the gaps in the treetops to highlight her skin with a mesmerizing, luminous glow. She looked like she belonged in a fairytale; a being beautiful and mystical and otherworldly. Or at least she did from the neck up. I doubted there were any magical beings in those old fairytales who traipsed through the woods at night in a pair of Daffy Duck pajamas.
Phee turned to face me and folded her arms across her chest while I did my very best to pretend I hadn't noticed she wasn't wearing a bra. Everything about her screamed 'back off'. “So talk. You got five minutes and that's it.”
I took a step closer almost involuntarily in my need to be near her, but held my hands up apologetically when she moved back. I couldn't help myself though; there was something about her that pulled me in, that drew me to be closer. “You and I, Phee. . .we have something. You know that, right? I know you feel it too. Something worth exploring.”
She huffed as if I was speaking bull, but I could tell it was just for show by the way she refused to meet my gaze. She felt it every bit as much as I did.
“We have a connection,” I continued earnestly, hating myself for being a cheesy fucker but not regretting it at the same time. “I knew i
t from the second you looked up at me. This thing we have. . . It's too amazing for us to ignore.”
She shook her head, her hair rippling and shining almost silver in the moonlight. “We can't go there. Can't even think about it. There's too much history between our families, too much bad blood. It'd never work.”
But the one thing I didn't hear from her was denial about what we had, and that bolstered my resolve.
“This war, it's between our families. The mistakes they've all made have nothing to do with us. We were just kids when it happened, Phee.” I stepped closer again, too quickly for her to react this time, and took a gentle hold of her upper arms. Her skin was soft beneath mine, and I rubbed circles on it with the pads of my thumbs, relishing the goosebumps that rose up at my touch. She didn't pull away. “Don't let them ruin something that has the potential to. . .the potential to be epic, Phee.”
She looked up into my eyes from beneath her lashes, and though I still saw hesitance there, I could also see the beginnings of something else. A shine. A shine that told me just how much she wanted to give in to this.
“Give us a chance, Phee,” I pleaded softly, my voice low. I was fully prepared to fight her on this, all night long if I had to. I would not be leaving the clearing without a yes from her.
She was silent for a painfully long time, and then a slow smile crept onto her face. “No one can know.”
I felt a weight ease from my chest and I pulled her in closer, shaking my head and grinning. “No one,” I agreed.
“This will need to be a total secret.”
“Yep.” I nodded, only half paying attention. “Big secret.”
She paused. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Nope,” I replied, and then I pulled her against me and kissed her for the very first time.
Chapter 12
Ophelia
I’VE JUST FINISHED screwing the light bulb in place when I sense a presence behind me. Someone is stood, watching me. A customer probably, waiting for me to finish.
I turn on the stool, almost wobbling off, surprised someone has come into the store so late. I open my mouth to tell them I'll be with them in just a second, only to find Nathan stood there. . .staring at the tattoo on my hip, the one I got when I was eighteen years old and had just polished off half a bottle of tequila with Nellie. I could have had it removed since then, but something inside me just. . . It just couldn't.
The intensity in his bright blue eyes freezes me to the spot, terror suddenly consuming me because he's seen it; he's seen my tattoo, the one that reveals way too much about the feelings I had for him that never quite went away.
Slowly his gaze travels upwards from my exposed hip, his hooded eyes raking invasively over my body until they finally meet mine. My mouth drops open in a silent gasp at how exposed he makes me feel, just from that one look.
I immediately want to blurt something out, make up a story, pretend the N stands for something else, someone else, but. . .but I can't. I can't speak. Can't form words. Can't lie.
Not when he's looking at me like that.
Silence reigns.
More silence. We stand. We stare. The room heats.
And then suddenly Nathan is striding forwards across the room, rushing me, determination etched into each and every line of his beautiful face. His hands reach up to grasp a firm hold of my waist and he swings me down from the stool, not noticing it knock over and clatter across the floor. He moves so fast I barely have a chance to squeak in surprise and grip onto his shoulders for balance.
Then, just as naturally as it came to us when we were teenagers, his lips are against mine and we're kissing.
My feet have barely touched the ground before he's walking us back, practically shoving until my spine hits the counter. Our lips are clashing, battling, warring for dominance. His tongue touches mine, his taste taking me over in ways only he has ever been able to do, in ways I've only dreamed about since I was seventeen years old. My fingers slide up from his broad shoulders and through his messy hair, tugging him closer even as I press my body against his.
I've lost all sense. I admit that. And right now I couldn't give a damn.
Nathan grunts into my mouth as one of his knees slip between my legs, his hand sliding down over my ass and under my thigh to lift it around his waist. In this position I can feel every hard inch of him, even beneath the layers of our jeans. It makes everything inside me heat up to a point where it's almost unbearable. His other hand creeps beneath the thin material of my top and I moan against his lips at the feel of his calloused fingers against the sensitive planes of my stomach. The touch is mostly innocent so far, but it sets me on fire. He swallows my moan and steals my breath with another scorching kiss.
I pull back for just a second, desperately needing a moment to breathe, but then Nathan is tilting his head to one side and leaning in for more. It's as if he needs me, as if he can't get enough of me. Our kisses grow wild, passionate, completely out of control. So lost in each other we are that I barely notice as he bends me back so low my hair brushes against the wooden surface of the counter. His free hand slams down besides my head to keep us from falling, and the other moves from my stomach to clutch the bottom of my back.
“Oh God,” I gasp as his mouth leaves mine to bite a trail down my chin, my neck, an extra hard nip on my shoulder. And then those lips are back on mine and our hands are everywhere and we're just lost in one another.
Slowly we rise, regaining our balance. Nathan's hands move up over my body to cup my cheeks tenderly, and his kisses become softer, yet deeper.
We both come to our senses around the same time. It's lucky we do before anything serious can happen; anything more serious than making out with the man I was once desperately in love with, that is. More serious than cheating on my fiancé with the man I was once desperately in love with.
Oh God.
But even as I think of Seth, I can't bring myself to yank away from Nathan.
As we regain control of our minds, our kisses slow, coming to a gentle, hesitant stop. Even so, neither of us make any move to pull away. My ass is still pressed up against the counter and Nathan is still melded to me; his chest against mine and our legs entwined. Our breathing is heavy, and still I can't make myself utter a single word. I'm speechless.
I haven't been kissed like that since. . .since the last time Nathan kissed me all those years ago. I'd forgotten how incredible it could be. How wonderful, how exhilarating, how terrifying it could be.
Nathan presses his forehead against mine, damp with perspiration, and squeezes shut his eyes. Our faces are so close together that we share the same breath, share the same heat, the same air.
“I'm sorry,” he finally croaks out, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes are still closed and his fingers have linked with mine, our arms held limply at our sides. “I didn't come here to. . . I came to. . . I came to let you go.”
It shouldn't, but those words tear at something inside me. Something that will never mend. Still unable to utter a word, I follow his lead and squeeze my eyes shut. It's only then I realize that, like me, he's doing it to fight back tears. I nod, my forehead brushing against his as I do.
Swallowing hard, Nathan tilts his head, leaning in to kiss me one final time. I shouldn't let him, but I do. Of course I do. It's a closed mouth kiss; heartbreakingly aching and tender and something in it makes me shatter inside.
Then, taking a deep breath as if he's having to psyche himself up, he squeezes my fingers tightly before letting them go altogether.
Without another word, Nathan turns around and walks away. He leaves.
FALLING HOPELESSLY IN love with Nathan was the easiest thing I'd ever done. It was as real and amazing as anything I'd known before.
Our love. . .it was madness. Wild, uncontrollable, passionate madness.
When the two of us were together we were fireworks. Explosive, colorful, beautiful, sparkling. . .
We drove each other crazy. One minute we'd
be fighting, screaming at each other over the stupidest thing imaginable, and the next we'd be chasing after one another and kissing so deeply it was as if we needed the other to breathe.
It was hard, sometimes utterly exhausting, lying to our families the way we did. But somehow, despite all obstacles standing in our path, we managed to keep our relationship secret for almost a whole year. The only people aware of us were Nathan's closest friends and, surprisingly, Eamon. Because it turned out Eamon had a secret of his own, a secret he wasn't yet ready or willing to share with the world. So the two of us pretended to date to keep our parents and schoolmates from paying us too much unwanted attention; my mom and dad were happy I was dating that nice jock from school and had forgotten all about the awful boy from that family, and Eamon's parents were blissfully unaware of the fact that he was shooting for his own team. I don't think his mom and dad would've minded all that much to be honest, but no matter how many times I tried to tell him that, he simply insisted he wasn't ready. And who was I to argue with him? Especially when it worked out so well for us all. It was selfish of me, but I was young and I was in love.
One thing was for sure; that year Eamon and I became better friends than I ever could've imagined.
In fact, everything seemed to slide into place amazingly for us. In that perfect, wonderful time, there was nothing that could or would ever tear Nathan and me apart. I was sure of it.
So sure of it, right up until a few weeks before Nathan's eighteenth birthday. It was about that point he began to act strange; cold and distant in a way he'd never been before. Definitely not with me. He started to keep things from me – not that I had any proof, but I knew him, and I knew it. Nathan went from wanting to see me every spare moment we could find to barely having time for me at all. Even when I could somehow persuade him to be with me, it was like he wasn't mentally there at all. He was completely vacant.