You're Still the One

by Sasha Clinton

  He caressed her silken tresses with his palm. Flashbacks of their first experience of intimacy ran though her. He’d stroked her hair the same way. It made her feel like a little kid, almost.

  “You know, this was the first lap dance of my life,” he drawled.

  It had been her first too. “So how did it go?”

  “It blew my mind… and some other parts of me too.”

  Ashley smiled triumphantly.

  “So what’s next?” he asked.

  “You tell me.”

  A jerk later, his spine was vertical again. He sat up against the arm of the sofa. With his face barely inches from hers, she leaned in, expecting another smooch, but instead of his lips, it was his biceps that she felt as he hoisted her up. He did give her a quick peck, but it fell short of the intense, deep lip-lock she had hoped for.

  Cosseted by his granite chest, she found herself being carried across the living room to his bedroom. He opened the door to his bedroom and then to the adjacent bathroom.

  Calling it a bathroom would be like calling a whale a fish. It was nearly the size of the living room. Where the living room had been minimalist, for the bathroom, he had gone all-out Victorian royal. The first switch he pressed made a chandelier with columns of crystal beads hanging from it light up. A chandelier in a bathroom. This was a new one.

  There was a fridge, sofas and even a bottle of wine in a metal tub, on the table beside the shower.

  The white cabinets, running across a whole wall with a mirror the same length, were old Victorian elegance. One wall was inlaid with a large mirror framed by filigreed silver. She could see their reflections in it. They looked like Adam and Eve, in each other’s arms.

  Set over the pristine white marble floor was a large bathtub, into which Andrew lowered her. He turned the water on and steaming hot water bathed her breasts and then flowed down to the rest of her body.

  Her elbow hit the wine bottles.

  “You drink in the bathroom?” she asked, incredulous.

  “My housekeeper puts them there every Tuesday. Nothing like rosé with a hot bath. You wanna try?”

  “Yes, please.” She gathered up some water in her palms and poured it over her face.

  Moving to the cabinet, Andrew plucked out a wine glass and filled it from the bottle.

  “You’re not having any?” She took the glass from him and swirled it around by the stem. Aromas of strawberry and grapefruit wafted to the tip of her nose.

  “No, I don’t drink this late.”

  She admired his discipline while chiding herself for her own lack of self-control when it came to alcohol. Oh, well, she was never going to be Andrew. Besides, he liked her curves, which gave her the excuse to fill them out a bit more.

  The cool, refreshing taste of the light pink liquid waltzed on her taste buds as she took the first sip. Andrew was right. The hot water searing through her skin and the chilled wine harmonized surprisingly well.

  “It’s good.”

  “Just good?”

  “I’m not the biggest rosé fan out there, so that’s as much of a compliment as I can give.”

  Glass clinked behind her. “I have Merlot too. You like that more?”

  “What I’d really like is some bathtub sex,” she purred.

  His eyebrows knitted together. “It’s not safe, Ashley. I don’t want to risk getting you pregnant.”

  She stuck one leg up in the air. “We’ve already thrown caution to the wind for tonight, so why not stretch it?”

  At her words, Andrew’s spine stiffened.

  Okay, she was way over her head here. She set the wine down. No more alcohol for tonight.

  Getting pregnant was simply not something she was planning on doing—especially not with Andrew. Granted, she’d never want any other man’s kid inside her… oh, goodness, what was she thinking?

  This was only one night—one night of forbidden passion. After this, she was never going to see Andrew again. She was going to date Joe, or some other nice guy like him, get married and have his kids, not Andrew’s.

  Then why was the idea of having someone else’s kids starting to give her cold feet?

  Ashley clutched her belly. She couldn’t do this to herself. She had her life all planned out—she was going to fall in love with a nice, stable guy who wasn’t six foot one, super-hot with sun-streaked brown hair and the owner of an apartment on Riverside Boulevard. One more trip down heartache lane wasn’t in that plan.

  You’re pushing thirty-two, the evil voice in her head kindly reminded.

  So what? She had frozen her eggs. She could have kids anytime she wanted.

  Andrew looked relieved when the lines on her forehead deepened. “I hope you’re starting to see the foolishness of what you just said.”

  “No, I was actually thinking about how I still have to pay the yearly storage fees for my frozen eggs.”

  “You froze your eggs?”

  “What? It is a super wise move, okay?”

  “I’m not saying it isn’t.”

  “I can’t control my biological clock, but I don’t have to let it dictate my life choices.” Agitated for no reason, she pumped some of the citrusy shower gel into her palm from the bottle on the edge of the ivory bathtub.

  “I never knew you were so keen on having kids.” His voice was cold, disapproving.

  Ashley’s heart crashed from one hundred and twenty to zero beats per minute. Wait a minute… did Andrew not want a family? During their marriage, they had not once veered to the topic of raising a family. She had assumed that Andrew would eventually want to have kids—three kids.

  But thinking back to how they’d never had unprotected sex even after they’d both gotten themselves checked at the hospital, she realized he had never shown any inclination to procreate. And she had been missing the fact for a while.

  The babbling tap water carried away the soap on her hand and with it her assumptions.

  “I’ve always wanted kids,” she croaked, telling herself it made no sense for her to feel so wounded that he didn’t want children. His life, his choices. “I’ve just never found Mr. Right.”

  A direct hit.

  “I hope you find him someday.”

  From his mouth, it sounded so wrong.

  “I will.” She sounded completely sure of herself. No way was she letting him see the stupid hope inside her.

  “I’ll have a shower. I need to wash up, too.”

  His body became a splotch against the fogged-up shower glass when he turned on the steaming hot water. She couldn’t see him clearly, and she hoped he couldn’t see her either, because if he could, he’d see how hurt she looked.

  On normal days, the dark circles and age spots on her face would have been the first things that caught her attention, not the red veins in her eyes. But the mirror on the wall told all—she was upset.

  Grabbing a clean white towel from the towel holder, she cloaked herself in the Egyptian cotton and walked out to find her clothes.

  She had to leave. If she stayed, if they progressed beyond foreplay, she’d have too many questions to answer to herself.

  Too many demons to face. Too much guilt to take care of. Too many choices to make.

  Choices scared her. She was indecisive. She wanted everything. Choosing between having a family and having Andrew almost had her subconscious screaming out the answer—and it wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. So she was going to avoid that choice altogether.

  There were still too many things that needed to be confronted in the past before anything in the present would work out. Every minute they spent together brought them closer and closer to a relationship they couldn’t have.

  So she left him a note and scuttled out of the apartment—that was the only choice she’d make for today.

  Chapter 11

  Joe was fifteen minutes late. To be fair, the traffic looked horrible and his workplace was quite far from here. He’d have to change two trains, at least, if he was using the subway and
if he was driving… she was going to hang around here all day.

  Ashley had chosen to meet him at Café Noire because of its proximity to the offices of Doubleside. She had a meeting with an agent who was coming to her office to go over the contract for a new author in an hour, so she had to dart back immediately after her short first date.

  Café Noire was a no-frills kind of place which had a rustic vibe that was classy and cheap at the same time. The cafe was a favorite among the staff at Doubleside and the few other corporate offices that called the area home.

  Simple wooden chairs and tables were the only furniture. Classical orchestral music threaded through the air. It wasn’t loud or attention-demanding, only a soothing accompaniment.

  The smell of chocolate interspersed with baked sugar coaxed her hidden foodie. The coffee was addictive and the treats on display near the cash counter made her salivate.

  Walnut brownies, cheesecakes, assorted pastries, macaroons, chocolate éclairs… mmmmm. Did she have to wait for Joe to get here? She fantasized about putting them in her mouth, keeping her eyes fixed on the display.

  Someone cleared their throat. “Ashley?”

  Joe had lost a few pounds since she’d last seen him, but she had never been the type to discriminate on the basis of weight and he had never been overweight or anything like that. His blue shirt was stained with a few patches of moisture. He must have rushed here. She should have scheduled this date in later in the day, rather than have him rush mid-afternoon.

  “I’m sorry.” His knees buckled when he pulled the chair out for himself.

  “Hi, Joe. Nice to meet you.” She was conscious of her tone and modulated it to sound friendly.

  Joe panted. “Nice to see you too. You look great,” he said, breathlessly, shaking her hand.

  “I hope the journey here wasn’t too strenuous.”

  He rolled up his shirt sleeves. “The subway was less crowded than I expected.”

  She waited for his heart rate to slow down. He panted, then his breath became more normal.

  “So Joe, where do you work?” Bella had told her a million times but she still couldn’t remember.

  “Goldman Sachs. I’m a vice-president.” He beamed.

  “Thanks for coming here. It’s quite far out from Wall Street.”

  “No problem. Is that where you work?” He signaled to the glass shrine which housed Moonlight Publishing. Sun rays bounced off the glass armor.

  “Yeah. And sorry, but I need to be back at one. I have a meeting with someone.”

  “Oh, then we should get coffee while we talk. What can I get you?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Let me.”

  “Okay, Americano. And a brownie. I have an insatiable sweet tooth.”

  Joe winked. “Glad to have met someone who shares my love for sweet things. I’ve had my eye on that brownie since the moment I entered. I like this place. It’s different. Good choice.”

  She was already starting to like him. He was kind, smart and cool. Either that or there was truth in the wisdom that flattery got you everywhere.

  He placed their order at the counter and paid. She was going to let him pay. If he wanted to be nice, she should let him. She wasn’t Kat. Kat fought with every guy who tried to pay for her. Asserting her independence was a contentious issue for her.

  The woman behind the counter placed two large brownies on a plate and then smothered them with chocolate sauce. A scoop of ice cream was the final icing on the cake, so to speak.

  Joe returned followed closely by the waitress carrying the two plates of brownies.

  “Bon appétit.” Her plate was set in front of her. Ashley swallowed the first piece of her brownie. “Mmmm. I don’t even have words to describe how good this tastes.”

  Joe dug into his brownie hungrily. She liked the fact that he wasn’t pretending to be polite for her sake. “Delicious it is.”

  “So Joe, do you have any hobbies?” She was uncreative when it came to first date questions so she started with the classic.

  “My job doesn’t leave me with a lot of energy for hobbies, but I try to help Bella with her flowers whenever I can.”

  “Yes, Bella is good at growing things,” Ashley said, using her tongue to pick up traces of cream from her lips.

  “Do you have any hobbies?” he asked.

  “I love to read. And my job gives me the opportunity to do a lot of that, luckily.” She coughed.

  “Are you all right?”

  The waiter arrived with her Americano and a cup of espresso for Joe. Ashley quickly sucked the boiling brew to dislodge the piece in her throat. Even with a scalded tongue and throat, she was glad to have gotten the crumb of brownie.

  “I am now.”

  “So, tell me about your family,” he said.

  Ashley brought her legs together. “It’s just my dad and me for now. My mom passed away two years ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “What’s your family like?”

  “There’s four of us. I have a younger sister. She lives in Mount Carroll and runs an inn there. She’s too young to know what she’s missing in the city, so she refuses to come up here. My family’s lived in Mount Carroll for generations, so they’re quite attached to the place.”

  “So why did you leave?”

  “I always wanted to. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great place, but I just wanted to go somewhere bigger since I was a kid.”

  “So why not Chicago? It’s closer to home.”

  “Chicago doesn’t have Wall Street.”

  “You’ve always wanted to be a banker, then?” She pushed some coffee into her system.

  “I knew I wanted to be in the financial world for a long time. Then in college, I had the chance to intern at Goldman Sachs. That’s when I decided it was going to be investment banking.”

  She couldn’t help but be envious of people who figured out their path so early in life. Her road to a job had been long and winding, with a million obstacles along the way.

  Joe had some coffee and then looked around.

  “Isn’t that Andrew Smith?”

  Andrew stepped into the cafe, making everything else fade to black except his lean, luscious body she had almost made love to last night. The suit he wore had been tailored to emphasize his height and angles. A hurricane was brewing in those eyes—a vicious one.

  The date had not even started and she knew it was going down in flames.

  Ashley prayed he would pass by her table and not see her there. After her disappearance last night and the text message she’d sent him this morning, he had every right to demand an explanation.

  When Andrew’s menacing shadow fell over the coffee cup she knew the Grim Reaper was here to claim her soul. Facing the fury in those eyes, she pleaded him silently to not make a scene. Joe was starting to grow on her.

  “Someone left something in my apartment last night,” he said, handing her a transparent plastic bag with her panties in them.

  Wishing the wooden floorboards would turn into quicksand and swallow her up, she gulped shots of coffee, beside herself with nervousness.

  Joe looked to her and then to Andrew, hoping to get a clue. The twist of Andrew’s mouth gave him a clear signal—get out.

  “I think I’ll go get some air.” Joe squirmed out, looking uncomfortable.

  Out went her secure future with an investment banker.

  “What happened last night?” Andrew folded one leg over the other on the chair opposite hers. She couldn’t escape his magnetism when he was not even a foot away.

  “Didn’t you get the text I sent you?”

  “If you want to say something, you say it to my face. Not send me a one-line text message that’s vague, wishy-washy and totally incomprehensible.”

  “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. You’re the author. I’m the editor. Let’s keep it at that.”

  “Is it because of the guy who was here? Are you seeing him?” Posse
ssiveness wasn’t an emotion she would have deemed Andrew capable of, yet it was precisely what she saw on his face now.

  “I was trying to, before you barged in and humiliated me. It’s not every day that a woman in her thirties can get a date.” She swung her purse over her shoulder, getting ready to leave.

  Anger marred his features. “You were dating him? Is this something new or has it been going on for a while?”

  “This is the first time I’ve ever met him.” She laid his doubts to rest. Did he really think she would cheat on someone else?

  Seeing her move, he got right down to the crux of the matter. “I want to know why you bolted last night.”

  Whitewashed lies weren’t going to deceive him, so she admitted the truth.

  “I was scared.”

  “Scared of what?” he asked, leaning closer to her.

  Taking a step back, she tried not to let his presence disarm her. “Scared of falling for you again. I’m scared of falling in love.”

  “It was only one night of sex, Ashley.”

  She balked at that. “There will never be ‘only one night of sex’ between us. It’s always going to lead to more. You can’t help it. I can’t help it. It’s a risk we’re always taking.”

  “You weren’t so scared of taking risks when we were younger.” he reminded.

  “I wasn’t scarred then.” she said.

  “It’s been seven years already. Get over it.”

  “I’m trying to, but you really messed me up, Andrew, the way you abandoned me.”

  “I didn’t abandon you!” He reacted to her accusation with astonishment, which put her on the defensive. “You were the one who wanted the divorce. I just gave you what you wanted.”

  “But I didn’t want it when I was lying in bed at the hospital, barely alive,” she croaked, knowing it wasn’t long before her eyes misted.

  I wanted you to hold me then. Hold me and kiss me and make my pain go away.

  He balled his hands into fists, avoiding meeting her eye-to-eye. “Then you should have told me… does all this even matter now?”