Passionate Kisses

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Passionate Kisses Page 183

by Various


  A thrill shoots through me as I register his nickname for me. Laughing I say back to him, "Yeah, Cole, next time maybe we can have some real fun."

  His whole body stills. He steps forward as if he is going to kiss me and I suck in a breath. Damn, that was loud.

  After a beat, he steps back. "Come on. I'll walk you to your car."

  "Okay." Trying to steady myself, I hide the disappointment in my voice. "That would be gentlemanly of you."

  After gathering my coat and bag, I lock up and we walk to our cars. The cool night air seems to clear my head.

  "Seriously, Ryan, that was the most fun I've had working late. I appreciate you staying with me. Now I have the whole weekend to rest and get ready for Monday."

  I beep my car open.

  "No problem, Nora. I enjoyed myself, too. I hope you use your free weekend to its fullest." He smiles.

  Maybe it's the late hour, or the poor light, but he looks a little sad.

  We wait, looking at each other. Hmmm. Do I kiss him goodnight? That seems awkward. If this were a date, I would, but it's not. I have worked exceptionally hard all night to reaffirm that. Now, I wonder why?

  And then, without thinking, my hand reaches up and brushes his face. I once again look into those swirling eyes.

  "Next time we stay out late it'll be pure fun, okay?" I say, my fingers touching his lips.

  His eyes widen and a lascivious smile blooms across his mouth.

  With that I get in my car and start the engine. I watch him walk back to his car and get in. When his lights flash on, I watch him drive out of the parking lot and I notice my heart is still racing.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Afternoon light streams into the apartment while I sit and enjoy a cup of tea. It has been a thoroughly enjoyable Saturday. I slept in, cleaned my apartment, and did the laundry. I need to go to the grocery store to stock up for next week. Knowing that it will be a hell week, my goal is to stay as well rested and organized as possible. Other than the cryptic message Darren left, I haven’t spoken to him all day. Darren's message was on my home phone, an odd choice even for him, saying that he might see me later, that I should be ready. Whatever that means.

  In between laundry and cleaning I’ve been thinking a lot. The spell of Ryan Cole seems to have dissipated, somewhat, so at least now I can think this all through without my hormones getting in the way.

  Fact one: Darren has been a real jerk lately. Fact two: I'm getting on with my life and I need to have people around me who are going to support that, not try to sabotage it. Fact three: Ryan Cole is one hot guy who gets my blood going.

  I put the book I was pretending to read down. The sad truth is, I feel like Darren is stuck. I was too, but now I want to move on. Even without Mr. Spinning Gorgeous Eyes complicating things, I feel like I am ready to go to the next phase of this life of mine. And Darren? Well, Darren is making it pretty clear he wants everything to stay the same.

  I know for a fact that I don’t want things to stay the same. Living here, waiting for a law degree to drop out of the sky and waiting for Darren to become Prince Charming is no longer an option. We either move ahead together or we move apart, I owe him that much.

  For the first time in a long while, I am in a good place. Not fueled by ambition or hormones or anger. This is just the place I need to be, on the precipice, spreading my wings and getting ready to fly.

  Stretching out on the couch and letting the sunlight wash over me feels so good. I’m so relaxed, all of the anxiety of the last week, all the confusion, it all just seeps out of me, and I close my eyes.

  Complete darkness greets me as I open them several hours later. Whoa! It's late, so much for shopping this afternoon. Walking into the kitchen, I notice that it’s already 8:45pm. Holy cow, I slept a long time. I'm still dressed and fully awake; there’s no way I’m going to bed soon. I might as well go shopping now.

  This is a great time to shop, it’s just me and the stock guys. About every other aisle has a man or woman restocking the shelves. Other than that, I feel alone in the store. I easily pick up what I need and head to the front to pay. Self-checkout is the best thing to happen to grocery stores since sliced bread.

  Getting a parking spot in our lot is a bit of a challenge late at night, but I find a spot just around the corner. Walking back to the elevators, I look for the cart but can't find it anywhere. Fine! I'll do this the old fashioned way. I load up as many bags as I can and head back up to my apartment. At this rate it will take me three or four trips.

  On the third trip I have two bags left but can't manage anymore on this round. I gather all the freezer stuff and leave the canned goods and pasta and bread. When I get to my apartment I unload everything, cleaning out the freezer while I am at it. I know I’m screwing up my sleep pattern, but what the hell. I have all day tomorrow to get back on track for Monday.

  Freezer organized, refrigerator full, and groceries put away, I head back down to the car for the last load. Yawning, I walk down the stairs; maybe I’m getting a little tired, it must be getting close to midnight. As soon as I reach the parking lot, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Fully alert now and looking around I don’t see anyone, but man, it feels like something is out here.

  Feeling as if I’m in some stupid horror movie, I make my way to the car. Every hair on my body is standing up and adrenaline pumps through my blood. I open the car door while glancing back and forth and quickly grab the last two grocery bags from the car.

  On the stairs I hear someone behind me. I know I should turn around and face whoever’s back there, but I just can’t! I run up the stairs and fling my door open. Slamming the door, I lock it as fast I can with shaky fingers. Oh my God! I start laughing hysterically. What was that?

  I have enough adrenaline in my system to run a marathon. Making tea while putting the rest of the food away, I try to calm down. I don’t know what the hell was out there, but I never want to go out again.

  “Okay, Nora. It’s okay.” I say this out loud over and over again. Repeating it seems to help—a little.

  Taking the tea to the bedroom, I settle into bed with a travel magazine. A good hour goes by before my eyes even feel heavy. After another hour I turn off the light and pull the blankets up, hoping that now I’ll be able to sleep.

  The doorbell becomes urgent in my dreams, insistently buzzing while I am sipping pear juice in the clouds. And then, knocking. How can there be knocking in a cloud, there’s nothing up here to knock on?

  "Nora. Nora!" I hear Darren's voice and start to look for him.

  Just then, I sit up and realize that I have been asleep. The knocking is my front door, and Darren is still yelling my name.

  "Yeah!" I yell from my bed. "Hold on. I'm coming." I stumble out of bed and pull on my robe.

  "Nora! Are you okay? Open the damn door!"

  Opening the door I find Darren standing there, fist in the air, looking flushed.

  "Jesus. What's wrong? I was asleep." He looks at me with a hard look.

  "It's almost noon. Since when do you sleep till noon? I thought you were dead or something."

  "Okay, well that’s a bit of an overreaction." I step aside to let him in. "Please, come in."

  He walks by and sniffs me. "You smell funny," he says, accusingly.

  "Wow. Thanks." What the hell?

  I walk back toward the kitchen. Now I am desperate for coffee. Darren is already in there, looking around.

  "We need to talk," he says, sternly.

  "You think?" I snort.

  I put coffee grounds into the coffee maker and can feel his eyes watching me. Ignoring him I wait for the coffee to fill my mug. I get the cream and sugar, pretending not to notice that he is watching my every move. I stir my cup a few extra times then finally take a sip. Ahhhh. Heavenly.

  "Well. Hello. Good morning." I check the clock 11:43. "Yep, still morning. So. I want to talk too, but I need to finish this. Did you bring in the paper?"

  "You want me to read the pap
er while you drink your coffee before we talk?" He asks sarcastically.

  "Yes, Darren, that is exactly what I want to do. I had a late night, thank you very much. I was just dreaming about clouds and pear juice, and you quite literally knocked me out of my dreams. So, yes, I would like to read the paper and drink my coffee. And then, we can talk."

  Without waiting for a response, I pull my robe tighter and walk back to the front door with my coffee. The paper is waiting for me just outside the door.

  I still feel his eyes on me as I gather the paper and get comfortable on the couch. What the hell is his problem? This man has become almost psychotic. Sitting and pulling my feet underneath me, I spread the throw over my lower half, and snuggle in. I sip my deliciously hot coffee and savor the moment.

  When I open my eyes I see that Darren is making his own coffee. Good, maybe he’ll calm down. I read a bit, but mostly I just drink the coffee and try to wrap my brain around the last week. Where do I even start with him?

  He comes in the living room with his own coffee and sits down. After a moment or two, I feel ready.

  "So, Darren. Let's talk," I start.

  He laughs. "So now you're ready?"

  "Yes. Thank you for waiting for me to wake up. Why are you here?"

  "You don't know?"

  "Okay. I can guess why you're here. But you're the one who showed up this morning. So please, by all means, tell me what's on your mind."

  He looks at me, his face hardening while his eyes narrow. "Don't be a condescending bitch."

  Whoa! Did he just say that?

  I take a deep breath and a long sip of my coffee.

  "Wow, okay. What the hell is going on? You barge in here like there’s a fire or somebody died. It's Sunday morning, for Christ’s sake. I slept in. What the hell is the problem?"

  "You're asking me what the problem is? You? I know what you have been doing Nora. And I think it's real shitty." Darren is seething.

  "Uh. What have I been doing? You’re pissed because I want to go to law school and get on with my life?" I’m reaching here, but I have no idea what he is so pissed about.

  "Nora. I don't give a shit if you go to law school or not. I just got tired of hearing you pine away about it. God!" He gets up and starts pacing the room.

  "Well, it's good to know that you don't give a shit about my life. This is good. Let's clear the air here." I toss the blanket off and get up too.

  "You think I don't know what you’ve been doing? Working late, staying up late. Still asleep at almost noon! I'm not stupid, Nora. I know."

  At this, I freeze. Does he know I think Ryan is attractive? Does he know I’ve been reevaluating our whole relationship all week? I stop pacing to look at him across the room.

  "What do you think you know?" I ask, slowly.

  He laughs and yes, he sounds psychotic. "What do you think you know?" he says in a high pitched, mocking voice. "Jesus Christ. Who is he? Some guy from work?"

  "Who is who? You think I'm sleeping with someone?" I am incredulous.

  "Oh, come on. High heels all week? Don't think I didn't notice you running in late with your shoes in your hands. Working late. I saw you, Nora. I saw you!" He is screaming at me. Spit flying, wild-eyed, hand throwing, screaming.

  "What did you see, Darren? What exactly did you see? Because from where I'm sitting, you're looking pretty fucking insane right now."

  I feel no better than he looks, but I am so angry I can’t stop myself from yelling right back at him. My chest tightens, causing pain to radiate down my arms. Coffee threatens to come back up. No longer pacing, I am now rooted to the spot, watching him.

  He crosses his arms and stares at me. His eyes are cold and unrecognizable. I never knew this man had so many faces. Maybe I never knew him? Maybe he never knew me.

  "I was at your office, and I saw you and a man in the conference room. It was late. On a Friday night. Who the hell works late on a Friday night? That is just bull shit."

  I start laughing. Wild, uncontrollable laughter.

  "So. I tell you I'm working late, and you know I have a huge conference next week, but whatever, I tell you I'm working late and then you stalk me at my office and discover what? THAT I AM WORKING LATE AT MY OFFICE!"

  "With a man, Nora. That man does not work at your office!"

  "That's right, Darren. He doesn't work at my office. HE IS THE CLIENT! You imbecile. We were putting together the marketing materials for the conference. Julie had a date. And I didn't want to work yesterday, so he said he could stay and help."

  He starts pacing again. I have a huge headache. All this screaming is exhausting. I walk back to the kitchen to make more coffee. I don't want it, but it's something to do.

  While I watch the coffee stream into the cup, a thought hits me. "If you thought I was sleeping with that guy, why didn’t you come talk to me yesterday?"

  "I did come here yesterday," he scoffs.

  "Ah. Okay." I stir in my cream and sugar, still completely confused.

  "Oh yeah. You think I don’t know these things. I was here watching you all day. And you ran away from me." He’s standing right behind me in the kitchen.

  I pick up the coffee and turn to face him. We are inches from each other, which suddenly feels much too close.

  "That was you? Were you stalking me?"

  He just stares at me and blinks.

  I slip past him with my coffee; I need more space between us. This is all too much. "Darren, you scared the shit out of me last night?"

  "Only the guilty run, Nora. Only the guilty.” He leans into me, closing the space between us making me feel panicky. I push past him and head back to the living room. “God, why does it always have to be about sex with you. What are you some sort of sexual deviant? It’s like you just want all this attention, you want to be some sort of superstar. Have you lost your fucking mind?" He rants.

  "What? Can you please stop playing word games and just talk to me. I'm not having an affair, if that’s what you are so worked up about. I do think there is something going on with us that we should talk about." I freeze halfway from the kitchen to the living room and turn around to face him.

  Darren is still standing in the kitchen. His wide, cold eyes are following me, his mouth twisted angrily. His face is pale and his hands are shaking. For the first time in my life, I feel afraid of him.

  "You are sleeping with someone. You're a two timing bitch. I'm done, Nora. I'm not playing games here. You are. You have played me long enough. We are over. Go fuck whoever you want. Don't ever call me again."

  My mouth falls open, stunned. No thoughts form in my head, I am numb.

  I watch as he storms out of the kitchen to the front door. Without looking back he swings the door open and walks through it. Just as I am about to speak the door slams, shaking the apartment.

  Just like that, three years of my life walked out the door. Just like that, Darren is gone. All my worry and fret about his feelings and owing him the time and space to work out our differences is gone.

  Staring at the door, I wait. Waiting for what, I'm not sure? Waiting for tears? Waiting for sadness? Waiting for him to come back? After a moment, I realize that none of those things are coming. He’s not coming back and there are no tears. A while back I would have been devastated, or at least sad, but right now, I’m just nothing.

  I find my coffee and heat it up in the microwave. It's nearly one o'clock I note, numbly, as half thoughts and questions keep forming in my head and then evaporate before I can understand them.

  I curl up on the couch. What the hell just happened here? I take inventory of what I can make sense of.

  Darren didn't believe me when I told him I was working late on Friday night and drove by the office to check. He sees me with Ryan and believes we are screwing in the office? Really?

  Darren comes over last night and stalks me while I unload groceries from my car? Really?

  Darren comes bursting in here this morning and then he breaks up with me. Is that w
hat really just happened?

  My thoughts keep coming back to that one. Darren broke up with me. Wasn't I going to do the same to him? Am I mad that he did it first? No, not really.

  I take another deep breath. And then reality hits that I am actually relieved. Holy shit, I’m single! All this energy I was devoting to keeping him happy and keeping him excited is no longer necessary. Without thinking, I jump up from the couch and squeal.

  Childish, yes, but damn, that feels good. I remember his words, “two timing bitch.” I wish it didn't have to get so nasty.

  I feel dirty and in desperate need of a shower. Feeling possessed, I run to the bathroom and start the hot water. I let the water run over me and scrub myself clean, but I still have this feeling when I’m done and dressed. I start cleaning my entire house again. I clean for over two hours and still feel antsy.

  My apartment is only so big, so I decide to go for a run. It’s only after running three miles and stumbling back to my apartment that I am able to calm down. Back in the shower the water feels healing and soft. I can now admit that I am sad. Darren was a great boyfriend in the beginning and I’m sad that it's over. As the anger finally wears off the tears start coming.

  When the water runs cold I turn it off and get out. Now my eyes are red and puffy and my legs are shaky from the run. The only good news is that my house is immaculate and the week's shopping is already done.

  I put on my softest PJs and head to the kitchen to make dinner. As I fix my meal, I realize that this is perfect. No longer tied to anything or anyone, this is the perfect time to change my life and shape it the way I want it shaped. Time to take, and keep, complete control over my life.

  Look out world, here I come.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sitting at my desk sipping coffee, I try to focus on the conference. It's just not working. I must stop thinking about Darren and our break up, yesterday it seemed easy, today not so much. I'm staring at emails, graphs, and seating charts, trying to hold the event in my head, and it's not going well. Resting my head against the back of my chair, I breathe. I have one more day to pull this together.

 

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