“Can I stop now?” I practically pleaded.
“You can stop whenever you want.”
I was glad to hear that and wasted no time pulling over, being sure to remember to put the clutch in as I braked.
“You did it,” he said, putting the gearshift in neutral and pulling up the emergency brake. “Always remember to pull this up when you stop the car.”
I nodded again and swiftly opened the door and got out. Our necks seemed to be in good shape. I wouldn’t call it a smooth ride, but it wasn’t half-bad either. He was a very good teacher, but I was glad to be out of that seat.
Of course when he got in, we smoothly picked up speed until we were back around the track. I was a little envious. It was effortless to him. “I want you to meet some people,” he said. He pulled up to a building that looked like an aviation hangar. We got out and walked into the office. There were a few guys working there. Wes led us over to the counter area. “Kenny, Curtis, Jimmy, this is Sophie.” They each came up to me and shook my hand one by one. Curtis looked like the oldest, and Kenny was wearing a mechanic suit, so I took him for a mechanic, and Jimmy was wearing a racing suit. He looked about our age.
“So Wes, it’s good to see you,” Kenny said. “What brings you by?”
“Just showing Sophie how to drive.” They all laughed and looked at me. I didn’t get the joke.
“Sophie, you might want to steer clear of this one on the track,” Curtis interjected.
“Why is that?” I asked, curious. Wes grabbed my hand and was trying to pull me toward a side door.
“Leave her alone, guys,” Wes said, still pulling me. I wanted to know, so I stopped and separated my hand and waited.
“Because he is a crazy man on the track. He has no fear.” They all laughed.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, pondering this new information.
“Bye guys,” he said, holding onto my hand again. I waved over my shoulder, to be polite, as he gently pulled me away.
“That was interesting.”
“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” he said, and then, leaning in closer to my ear, he added, “I want to show you something.” I kept following him as a tingling sensation lingered on my ear from his cool breath.
He opened up a door that led to a large garage, which housed several race cars. I was in awe. I’d never been into car racing, but those cars were very cool.
“How many are there?” I asked, touching the window nets and running my hands over the painted numbers and sponsor signs.
“We have seven here. We use four for the driving school and we race three.”
“You race?”
“No, not anymore. I thought I would try college for a while.” He winked. “Jimmy is our driver.”
“So what, you like own all this?”
“Yes. I inherited it, I suppose. It sort of runs itself now. Curtis manages it, and I just sort of enjoy it.”
We walked around the cars. He let go of my hand, and I was reluctantly free to explore the hangar. “These are real cars?” I asked stupidly.
“Yes, they are. One day, I’ll get you to drive one,” he said.
I laughed out loud. I was absolutely positive that would never happen, although, I did want to sit in one.
“Can I get in one?” I asked.
“Of course.” He motioned his hand, obligingly, toward the closest car. He had a devious smile on his face, but I ignored it. I tried to grab for a door handle, but there wasn’t one. “How do I…” I started to ask, but then it registered. “Wait, I’m not supposed to climb in, am I?”
“Yes,” he said, chuckling, and that explained his insidious invitation.
“Never mind,” I said, turning away from the car, as the embarrassing vision flashed through my brain.
“Oh, come on. Get in,” he pleaded, stepping into my path.
“No way,” I countered, crossing my arms. I was not going to fumble my way through a car window in front of Wes. “Not a chance.”
He sighed and then raised his eyebrows in preparation for a negotiation. “I’ll help you.” He went to hold onto me and gave me that long stare with those mesmerizing eyes. What was it with this guy? I couldn’t help but notice his obvious joy in the idea of me foolishly climbing in the window, and although I could see myself clumsily doing it, I couldn’t help but want to give him what he wanted—even if it meant I would possibly regret it later.
“Fine,” I said, uncrossing my arms. He scooped me up like a child, and I could feel the hardness of his arms under my ribs and thighs. I wrapped my arms around his neck instinctively. He smelled so good. Fresh, like rain with a hint of something sweet. My stomach started feeling all fluttery again.
He turned my feet toward the driver’s door and led me through the window. From there, I was easily able to slide in. An early episode of the Dukes of Hazzard came to mind, and it wasn’t that bad.
Sitting in that car was no comparison to Wes’. There was no luxury at all. It had the feel of a bumper car at a carnival. There were gauges I didn’t understand, and I was very certain I wouldn’t ever drive one of them. He would look good in one though. I was sure of that. I started to climb out and was stumped.
“You come out the same way you went in,” he said, with a little grin. I knew I shouldn’t have fallen for that look. I awkwardly climbed my way out, and I was glad to have been in sweat pants. Halfway out of the window, he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to him until my feet settled on the ground.
“Thanks,” I said, still standing within inches of him.
“It’s no trouble.” He slowly raised his hand to move my hair out of my face. I remained perfectly still as his fingertips glided across my forehead in an effort to slide bangs behind my ear. He looked at me with intense but peaceful eyes, and my heart started pounding. I dropped my gaze and zeroed in on his plenteous lips. My eyes were also intensely drawn to the gentle creases on the sides of his mouth, which seemed to be the remnants of previous smiles. Instinctively, I reached up, quickly, and put my lips to his. I think it was a knee-jerk reaction to divert his attention from my nervousness, but whatever it was, I kissed him. He softly placed both hands on the sides of my face and a warm chill went through my spine. He kissed me back, gently, and my thumping heart turned to a racing heart.
Very slowly, he pulled back a few inches, and when I opened my eyes, he was studying my face. Self consciously, I wondered if I had done it right. It felt right to me, but I couldn’t read his expression. I searched his eyes for some sort of sign, and it made me feel a burning in my chest. There was a yearning for me to be closer to him, so I pulled him back to me without thinking it through and started kissing him again.
I don’t know what came over me, but I needed the warmth that the closeness of his lips brought me. Everything felt so right. Our lips moved with one another in the same rhythm, as if we had kissed a thousand times. I felt my muscles turn to mush, but instead of sinking toward the ground, I felt like I was floating. He embraced me tighter as we kissed for an immeasurable moment, and then he pulled back slightly, pausing with his forehead to mine. I could feel his breath on my cheek, and we stood still while silent thoughts lingered in both of our minds. Then, as if to offer some sort of reassurance before responsibly suggesting that we should go, he tilted his lips back to mine to complete one more brief but soft encounter between our lips.
I ran through our whole kiss in my mind as we walked back to the car. It was my first real kiss, and I wished I could read his mind to gauge his reaction. It was so very frustrating. I was used to being in such control of myself, and for the first time, I felt like I was unraveling into someone else. Someone who wanted this guy more than anything else in the world. The feeling I had when I was with him was indescribable. My brain knew so little about him, but my heart felt like it knew everything, and that made me sure I wanted him. I knew that day, that I would never be the same again. I didn’t just want him in my life, I felt like I was supposed
to be with him, even if it didn’t make sense.
Chapter 5
SILENT STORIES
The drive to his house on Saturday felt like we were constantly headed upward. We were driving on a windy little two-lane road off the highway. The turnoff was not too far from the overlook, but it was a turn that no one would have taken had they not been looking for it.
“So you live out here by yourself?”
“Yes.” There was a pause, and then he added, “Is that strange to you?”
“No. Well, I was just wondering why you choose not to live on campus.”
“Well, I don’t like being around a lot of people. I like my privacy.”
“Don’t you feel lonely out here?” We passed some driveways here and there, but I couldn’t really see any houses. I liked my privacy, too, but I also liked the idea of neighbors I could at least see. Somehow it made me feel safer to know that people were around, even if I didn’t actually talk to them.
“No, not at all. I bought this place so I could be alone.”
“You bought it?” It was peculiar to hear him talk about buying a house. The only thing I had bought was my car, and I needed my mom and Kerry to help me decide on that. Buying a house was the last thing on my mind. It made me feel so young.
“Yes, my uncle had a house about twenty miles away. I lived there for a while after he died, but I decided I needed a change, something for myself. So I sold that house and bought this one.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Since I was eighteen.”
I decided to put the rest of my questions on hold. It was an absolutely beautiful drive. I could see the sky and far away hills peeking through the trees on the hillside, and I wondered what the view would be like once we got to a spot where I could actually see it. When he invited me to come up early, I was initially bummed, because I had to work in the afternoon, but I was starting to be glad he had. It meant the view would be much better.
He slowed and made the turn into a paved, narrow driveway, which was bordered by tall trees on each side. We meandered through a wooded trail sloping back downward and then up again on the hillside.
My eyes widened. “Shut up.”
“I didn't say anything,” he said, confused.
“No, shut up,” I said again. That was all I could seem to say staring at his house. It was a contemporary-style home made out of cedar, and it sat situated on an upslope. There were so many complex angles and levels that I couldn’t tell how many floors the house had. On the left side of the house was a four-car side load garage situated under one of the levels. There were several windows on all sides of the house. I have never seen a house like it.
“What?” he said.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, as he rolled to a stop in front of the house.
“You can’t be serious.” I got out of the car and looked at the house. It was amazing. It looked so big, but cozy all at the same time. It reminded me of a ski resort I had been to once in Virginia, only on a slightly smaller scale. I imagined a fireplace in every room. “You live here all by yourself?”
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Come on. Let’s go in.” He grabbed my hand, and I was surprised at how natural the gesture was to him. His hand was cool and relaxed, and I was the opposite. My hand burned at his touch. I had to concentrate hard to keep my heart in check so my hands wouldn’t get clammy. He seemed to have no problem with that.
He guided me up the front steps, which ran parallel to the house. When we reached the glass front door, I could see through it to a wide hallway that opened up to a massive view from the back of the house. The entryway, inside, made my mouth drop open. There was one huge skylight that ran the entire length of the hall, with horizontal beams going across it. It had to be three stories high. On each side, the beams stretched out over open balcony areas that were upstairs. We walked in, and I couldn’t decide which was more spectacular—the view from the windows at the back of the house or the view from the skylight.
We continued past the kitchen on the left, and then we went down a couple of steps into the living area where the exposed beams continued to support the ceiling. “This is absolutely amazing,” I said. “Look at the view. You can see everything.” He stood there in satisfaction at my reactions.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure,” I answered, walking over to the window. There had to have been a twenty-mile view from anywhere in the back of his house. You could see the whole town. I turned around to examine the decor. There seemed to be only the necessities. There was one contemporary black sofa and two chairs with throw pillows that looked like they had never been moved.
Just beyond the living area, and a few more steps down, was a dining room. I decided to explore it during his absence. It was surrounded by glass windows on three sides. It had a simple rectangular table with seating for eight. It, too, looked like the room had never been touched. There was a huge canvas painting on the wall behind me. It was very abstract, but I could see what looked like two arms reaching for each other. I was intrigued at first by the size of the painting and then by the use of color. It was breathtaking and vibrant, and yet somehow it made me feel sad at the same time.
I walked back into the living room when I heard the clanking of ice in a glass. “Is Coke okay?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” I took a sip. “You don’t need me to tell you that this place is great. I’m sure everyone says that.” I took another sip.
“Would you believe me if I told you, you’re my first visitor?”
I coughed a little. “No.”
“Well then,” he said. “I won’t tell you.”
“Can you show me the rest of the house?” I asked the question but then it felt a little awkward to ask for a full house tour, so I added, “I want to see the basement. You know, your games.”
“Ah,” he said. “That’s right. You want to practice.” He turned and headed toward the other half of the house. We crossed under the main hall, and I glanced at the exquisite skylight again. He led me down a few steps and into a doorway, which opened up into one large room with square columns situated throughout. There was a bar, TV area, pool table, foosball table, air hockey, a race car game, dart game, several arcade games, and the two carnival games. I smiled right away.
“So this is where you play?” He nodded. “How fun,” I said, narrowing in on the product of my first big bear win. They looked like they were taken right out of a carnival. Just the two of them took up an entire area of the basement. “You weren’t kidding. You do have the games. How old are they?” I asked, noticing the authentic antique details.
“About forty years, I think. I’m not exactly sure when they were built, but they have been in my family that long.”
“Amazing,” I said, feeling like a kid in a candy store. “Can I try it?”
“Sure.” He took my drink.
I sat down on the little round stool and let the first ball drop. Of course, my score didn’t end up a winner. I pouted. “Show me how you do it,” I demanded.
Slowly, he leaned over me and reached for a ball. I felt warmth permeate all over me when he bent down, placing his chest just inches away from my back.
“You see,” he said, “you can’t just let go of the ball and expect it to drop where you want. I figured out that these places beat people because the ground is not level. Of course it looks that way, but it isn’t.” By this time, his cheek was just inches from mine, and he wrapped his arms around me, placing his hand over mine. I was barely concentrating on anything he said until he molded my hand around one of the wooden balls.
“See, once you figure out which way the lane is leaning, you can choose your paths.” He moved the ball over slightly, and we let go of it at the same time. I watched as that ball and two subsequent balls earned a score of 29. Perfect, I thought. Just like he was appearing to be by the second. I turned myself around. He was still kneeling on o
ne knee, so we were looking eye to eye. I wanted to kiss him again, but I waited. I had kissed him the first time and the awkwardness of timing a second kiss was hovering. I didn’t want to make the first move again. If he wanted to kiss me, I decided, he would have to kiss me first, which much to my disappointment, he chose not to do.
Instead, he broke the silence between our gaze by standing and pulling me up by my hand. “Is there anything else you want to play?” he asked. Trying not to appear too rejected, I scoped out the rest of the basement. If he was going to be difficult, then that was his choice, but it put me in the mood for a challenge. I chose the air hockey. He chuckled, and I silently grumbled.
We played several games, but it only took two minutes into the first before my game-face was annihilated. I was there, playing my hardest, with tightened lips, determined to beat him, and he was playing with his eyes practically closed. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself, and before I knew it, he was laughing, too. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing at me or with me, but it didn’t matter. It was the most fun I’d had in a long time.
After a while, we walked back toward the steps to the main level. We passed a door that had a little square window at the top. “What’s this to?” I asked.
“Oh, that goes to the pool.”
“Pool?” I looked at him for clarification.
“Yes…pool.” He said it slowly, as if I didn’t know what a pool was.
“I heard you,” I assured him, wanting to give him a whack right upside his perfect head. “I’m just surprised you have one inside.” He locked his melting eyes on me, and I blushed. “Can I see it?” I asked, trying to divert his attention.
“Of course.” He propped the door open with his back and waited for me to enter first.
My eyes were greeted by a full-size lap pool. “Are you kidding? What do you have this for?”
The Pace Page 7