Solo (Symphony Hall)

by Lauren E. Rico

  I walk up to her and put my arms around her waist. “I’d say I’m sorry to show up without calling first, but that would be a lie. I was afraid if I called, you’d tell me not to come. I didn’t want to hear that.”

  “You’re right. I would have told you not to come,” she confirms with a sigh. “It’s been a long, hard day, capped off by a long, depressing night.”

  “Well, the night’s not over yet,” I inform her, taking her by the hand and escorting her to the small dining table. I pull a chair out for her and she sinks into it. “I thought you might need a little moral support after seeing your father. I also had a feeling that you might not have made it through your meal, so I picked up some dinner for us.”

  She looks at the grease-stained paper bags and then back to me. “God, you’re sweet,” she murmurs appreciatively. “And you’re right. It was awful, Drew. He didn’t come because he wanted to see me. He came because he wants me to pose as the devoted daughter on the campaign trail. He even offered to buy me a condo.”

  “Oh, well, if he offered you a condo…” I tease with a grin, slipping into the other chair. She swats me playfully.

  “I don’t know what I was expecting. Something different, I suppose. But he doesn’t change. It’s all about appearances. And, now that he might be trying for the presidency, he’s afraid someone will come snooping around and find out that I live in squalor and servitude.”

  “Please, tell me he did not say that to you.”

  I get a rueful grin from her. “He might as well have. He commented on my ‘ramshackle’ little apartment and my job as a ‘common maid.’ And you know, it’s not like he didn’t work his way up. My father wasn’t born wealthy, so he knows what it’s like to be starting out.”

  “Yeah, but ‘starting out’ as a nobody and ‘starting out’ as the daughter of a prominent politician are two totally different things, Katherine. It’s like you told me the other night. It’s not the truth that matters, it’s what people perceive to be the truth.”

  “Well, in this particular case, I’m pretty sure they’re the same thing,” she mutters. “He doesn’t want people to realize that I’m out on my own with no support from him. It won’t look good, considering the amount of money he has.”

  “Maybe he should have thought of how it would look before he cut you off,” I scoff.

  Katherine sighs and shrugs at the same time. “So, what’ve you got over there?” she asks with a chin nod toward the counter. “’Cause it smells really good.”

  She wants to get off the subject, and I can’t say as I blame her. I’m only too happy to find other things to distract her attention.

  “For you, Katherine, it’s only the best that Mr. Lu’s has to offer. I’ve got wonton soup, pepper steak, sweet and sour chicken, and fried rice.”

  “Oh, yum!” she murmurs appreciatively, getting to her feet again. “Let me get us some plates.” She stops short when she catches sight of the shopping bag I’ve parked next to her front door. The one with the big, silver-wrapped present sticking out of it.

  “What’s with that?”

  “What does it look like? It’s a present.”

  “For who?”

  “For you. Who else would it be for?” I laugh. She doesn’t.

  “I can’t,” she says firmly, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t accept it.”

  “Why not?” I ask, getting to my feet again.

  “You know why,” she says softly. “You’re my professor. I’m your student.”

  “How can you turn it down before you even know what it is?”

  She shakes her head again. “No. I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  “You can,” I insist, pulling the unwieldy box from the bag then setting it on the bistro table.

  “No.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

  “I don’t make anything difficult. Things just are difficult. Ironically enough, once I embraced that truth, things got a little less difficult.”

  “Well that’s a bit jaded, isn’t it?” I accuse.

  “I prefer to see it as being a realist.”

  “Katherine, please open the box.”

  “Drew…”

  “When was the last time anyone gave you a present?”

  She doesn’t respond.

  “Katherine?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s been awhile.”

  “How long?” I press.

  “Years,” is all she’ll admit.

  “You’re kidding me,” I say in disbelief. “No birthday presents?”

  She shakes her head silently.

  “Nothing when you graduated with your bachelor’s?”

  This time she just looks down at the floor.

  “Christmas? Katherine, tell me he at least sent you a Christmas card.”

  But, clearly, she can’t tell me that. “Drew, you don’t understand. It’s just the way it is. This,” she says, gesturing to her modest surroundings, “this is my life. I’ve gotten used to being on my own and I like it.”

  I feel my features softening. Hers, however, are going in the opposite direction.

  “Stop it!” she says so harshly that I start.

  “What? What did I do?” I hold up my hands defensively, trying to figure how I could have possibly pissed her off by bringing her dinner and a gift. But, as it turns out, that’s not what she’s pissed about. It’s the meaning behind the dinner and the gift. And the meaning behind my expression.

  “Stop looking at me like you feel sorry for me!” she snaps. “I’m happy. I’m independent. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me. Christ, Drew, up until last month, you could barely hide your repulsion when you looked at me. Sometimes I think I preferred that, actually.” She mutters the last bit so softly that I’m not sure I was meant to hear it. But I did.

  I stand up and close the distance between us in a single heartbeat, putting my hands on her shoulders so she has to look up into my face. My very serious face.

  “I don’t pity you, I’m in awe of you,” I say slowly, softly. “Don’t you ever forget that. And you didn’t repulse me, Katherine, you attracted me. I just—I just didn’t know how to face it. My real feelings scared the hell out of me.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Open the present. Please.”

  I can already tell I’ve won this particular battle. She rolls her eyes at me. “Fine. If I do, can we be done with this conversation?”

  “Sure, I’ll agree to that,” I say, delivering a kiss to the top of her head.

  She examines the shiny package suspiciously.

  “It’s not a bomb.” I snicker, but she ignores me, taking her time.

  At last, she leans over the big box, pulling gently at the huge blue bow. After that, she starts to separate the wrapping paper from the tape so she can pull it off without ripping it.

  “What are you doing?” I laugh.

  “I’m doing what you asked. I’m opening the present.”

  “That’s not how you open a present. You’ve got to get in there and rrrrip it off!” I make a move to yank on a seam but she swats my hand away.

  “Hey! My present, right? I can open it with my teeth if I want!”

  A smirk crosses my face. “Now that I’d like to see.”

  She blushes at my implication and starts to say something, but thinks better of it and returns to opening the gift. Once the paper is off, she grabs it from either side and gently lifts the box, shaking slightly so that the bottom will fall away from the lid. After a couple of seconds, it obliges her by dropping onto the tabletop with a puff of tissue paper.

  She glances up at me and I nod for her to continue. Slowly, she peels the gauzy layers apart and gazes down at the material. It’s darker than baby blue, but lighter than navy and softer than cobalt. Cornflower blue, that’s what the saleslady at the fancy store in Charlotte told me.

  “Oh my God.” She gasps softly, pulling the parka all the wa
y out and holding it up so that it hangs its entire length.

  “You like it?”

  She looks up at me like I’ve just asked her if she’d like a million dollars.

  “Like it? I love it! Drew, it’s perfect! Look at the length! It’s just long enough to cover my butt and thighs,” she informs me as she smooths the length of the coat. Then she turns it sideways and slips her hands into the pockets. “And I love that the pockets are deep enough for me to stuff my hands into…”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “No, you’re not going to put your hands in the pockets.”

  She’s looking at me like I have three heads. “What are you talking about? How else am I supposed to keep my hands warm?”

  “Look in the box,” I suggest.

  She moves the tissue paper around to reveal a pair of matching gloves. And hat. And a scarf with big blue and white snowflakes.

  Katherine’s face tightens with growing alarm.

  “Hey,” I say, my voice full of soft concern. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it? I can return it.”

  “What?” she asks, looking confused for a second. “Oh, no, I love it. It’s just that I—it’s so nice, is all. And I know this store.” She gestures toward the logo on the lid of the glossy black box. “It’s expensive. I can’t really afford to pay you back or anything,” she mumbles, looking down at the floor as she speaks.

  “It’s a gift,” I remind her. “A gift. That’s it. No strings attached. Honestly, it’s just that I hate that goddamn hoodie you keep wearing,” I chuckle, standing up and taking the coat from her. I hold it up and open for her.

  “Here, try it on.”

  Reluctantly, she turns around and slips her arms into each sleeve as I hold them up for her. Her eyes are drawn downward as I squat and fasten the zipper at the bottom, following all the way upward as I pull the zipper closed, until our eyes lock. I reach around behind her and pull the faux-fur trimmed hood up, then I stand back so I can survey her with a critical eye.

  “Well?” she asks with the most naively sexy smile I’ve ever seen.

  “Well, I think you should only ever wear this color,” I say, my voice suddenly husky.

  When my lips find hers, they are soft and tentative. When she doesn’t push me away, they become more confident. I’m taller than her by a good six inches and she tips her face up, causing the blue hood to slip back off her head. And then my hands are in her hair and holding the sides of her face, pulling her into me. She doesn’t resist.

  My lips are still connected to hers when I reach between us to unzip the coat, pushing it off her shoulders so that it hits the floor with a soft puff.

  I’m walking her back toward her bed, but she doesn’t seem to notice as her hands tug at my shirt, trying to free it from the waistband of my pants. When she succeeds, I hold my arms up and help her to pull the garment over my head. It joins the coat on the floor. My pants follow close behind.

  “Wait,” she says, pulling back for a second.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I ask between ragged breaths.

  She gives me a mischievous smile before clapping her hands twice. As soon as she does, the lights go out, leaving us with only the glow of the moon to see one another by. I chuckle and shake my head, pulling her in close again.

  “Oh Christ, I want you, Katherine,” I murmur against her neck as I kiss the hollow of her shoulder.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” she rasps.

  Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I have no intention of waiting a single second longer to be with this woman.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kate

  We’re lying on our sides, facing one another when he puts his palm to my face. It’s on my cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth against the bone that runs below my eye. I am riveted, unable to tear my gaze from his face as he touches mine. Then it comes. The moment when I can’t wait a single second longer. I reach down with both hands and pull my nightshirt over my head and then immediately press forward. I want desperately to know what his chest feels like against my nipples. I gasp loudly, arching my back with the sensation, unable to keep from rubbing my breasts against him.

  Drew groans as he leans forward and claims my mouth with his own. His lips are soft. So much softer than I could have ever imagined. But as our urgency begins to take hold, they become strong and unyielding. His right hand supports the back of my head and holds me tight against him while his left continues mapping the geography of my body. My face. My shoulders. My neck. My back.

  Then, he pulls his mouth from mine to deliver a series of tiny kisses across my face. My eyelids, the tip of my nose, my cheeks. I’m giggling until he gets to the spot behind my ear and then I’m moaning. This has, in the blink of an eye, become something different. It’s not about sex or no sex. It’s about chemistry or no chemistry. And I’ll be damned if we don’t have amazing, blazing, off-the-charts chemistry.

  Even though we’re well on our way, I can see that he’s reluctant to be the one who takes it past the point of no return. No problem. I’ll be the one. I’ll be whatever I have to be to feel him touching my body. With his mouth still attached to my shoulder, I take both of his hands into both of mine and place them on my breasts.

  “Oh. Oh God, Katherine,” he murmurs appreciatively as his thumbs begin to circle my nipples.

  Somehow, his lips are on mine again. I whimper as I open my mouth to him hungrily. Yes, it’s as if we are starving for this. For each other. I’m not sure exactly how he ends up on top of me, but once I’m flat on my back, he settles himself between my thighs. His warm hands on my hips, my rib cage and back to my breasts again. I can feel his hardness resting against my belly.

  “Drew?” I whisper into the darkness. “Do you have…?”

  In a flash he’s off of me, hanging over the edge of the mattress. It sounds as if he’s scrambling for his jeans. I know when he’s found what he’s looking for, because I can hear the sound of ripping foil. It doesn’t take long for the boxers to come off and for it to go on.

  I gasp, when he returns to his prior position, my head straining backward against the bed pillow. He takes advantage of the position to start kissing down the column of my throat.

  “Jesus,” he murmurs. “You are so beautiful.”

  I freeze, sucking in my breath.

  Drew senses the sudden tension in me and he stops all movement.

  “What?” he asks. “What is it? Do you want to stop? Did I do something wrong?”

  I shake my head slowly.

  “No, no, no. It’s just that no one’s ever…”

  I can’t even get the sentence out before he’s propped up on his elbows, looking down at me. Even in the moonlight I can see perfectly the mixture of concern and horror on his face. What the hell did I do to make him look at me like that?

  “Katherine,” he says in a voice that’s both soft and…what? Frightened. “You’re not…you’re not a virgin, are you?” he asks in a whisper. “I mean, I don’t think I can… I’m not sure that…”

  I burst into a fit of laughter.

  “What? Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny,” he insists, his dark eyes flashing. But his confusion and subsequent irritation just make me laugh harder.

  “It is,” I howl, overtaken by a spell of silliness. “It is funny!”

  But Drew does not look amused, so I try to get myself under control, taking a few deep breaths, wiping the tears of laughter from my cheeks, and meeting his gaze squarely.

  “No,” I say, putting a hand to his cheek. “No, I’m not a virgin.”

  “Then what? What is it?”

  I give him a bittersweet smile as I reach up and stroke the hair from his forehead. “It’s just that no one’s ever said that to me before. That I’m beautiful, I mean. I’ve never thought I was and then, to hear it from you, of all people…”

  And then his mouth is so close to mine that I can practically taste his sweet breath.

  “Th
en everyone else is blind, Katherine, because you are stunning,” he says, putting his forehead against mine. “I’ve always thought so. Since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  My turn to be shocked. I open my mouth to say something about this confession, but his lips are back on mine and all thought flies out the window. His hands are roaming more assuredly now, his palms running up and down the length of my body from my shoulders down to my hips.

  I’m both surprised and excited when he reaches down, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of my panties. I arch slightly so he can pull them down my thighs, past my knees, and over my calves until there is nothing between his hands and my skin.

  I didn’t lie about not being a virgin, though, I might as well be. I’m afraid that if I tell him that the sum of my experience is a few sticky, unsatisfactory fumblings in the back of my high school boyfriend’s SUV, he might put the brakes on, and fast. I don’t say a word. Because the last thing I want him to do as he’s kissing his way down my body is to stop.

  “Oh. Oh my God,” I murmur on an exhalation when his mouth finds my right breast. His tongue swirls gently around my nipple until, without warning, he takes it into this mouth and suckles. “Ohhh, Drew,” I moan.

  My breath is coming fast and shallow now as his right hand snakes in between our two bodies. I know where he’s headed and the mere thought of it sends a surge of wetness between my thighs. His mouth has moved from my breast, back up to the crook of my neck at the same time I feel his fingers tracing a slow, tantalizing line along the outside of my sex. It’s maddening. I shift a little, trying to entice him further, but he just snickers softly into my neck.

  “Uh-uh-uhhh, Miss Brenner. Not so fast,” he whispers, his tongue finding the shell of my ear.

  And still, the maddening movements around and outside and along the edge until…

  “Oh! Oh, Jesus!” I gasp loudly as his finger dips unexpectedly into my folds. I arch upward involuntarily, but his hard chest presses me back down into the mattress at the same instant he finds my clit.

  I lose all sense of myself. His soft, slow ministrations become the center of my universe. Slow. Slow. Maddeningly slow. He rubs and swirls until I can hear my own wetness. I’m whimpering and he’s nibbling on my neck. My hands are clutching his shoulders with a white-knuckled grip that will most certainly leave bruises. Just when I think I’m going to lose my mind, his clever fingers take on a faster, firmer motion that makes me cry out and arch once again. His mouth covers mine, swallowing my cries as he rubs me harder.