The Impostor, A Love Story

by Tiffany Carmouche

  He traced my lips again with his fingertips. “As to why I haven’t tried to kiss her yet, I guess I want her to know she is different than anyone I have ever been with. Nicole, I have wanted to taste your lips since you were sassy with me that first day I met you. I realized you thought you were just another girl to me, but since I met you, I’m becoming a different man. The things I thought were important to me have somehow been turned upside down, and all that matters now is you.”

  What the hell was wrong with me? My eyes became a fountain once more. I was experiencing emotions I had locked away safe for so long.

  A warm feeling came over me and then a sudden chill. Exploring my mouth with his gentle touch, he fixated on my lips as he leaned forward. My heart pulsated, making it hard for me to breath. He leaned in closer. I stopped breathing. A tiny flutter began in my stomach and traveled up my body, tickling even behind my neck.

  I watched as his lips gravitated toward mine. Like a magnet, he pulled me in. His lips were warm, moist. I shivered.

  Tasting my lips, he smiled. “Salty,” he said, making reference to my tears. He pulled his head away so he could look into my eyes. Taking my face in his hands, he wiped the remaining tears with his thumbs.

  I finally sucked in some air in staccato breaths as he bent forward again. Goosebumps covered my skin as I felt his lips coming toward me.

  “I’m sorry. I have been so . . .” He shut me up with another kiss. So soft. So delicious. My breath still uneven. Overwhelmed. Bringing my body closer, he sampled my neck. I sighed.

  His body pressed against me. I could feel his strength, yet he kissed me so tenderly. I almost collapsed. I felt light-headed, savoring his lips. Nothing remained clear to me anymore. The museum, the noise, the world, vanished.

  “Excuse me,” a stranger’s voice interrupted. I couldn’t stop. Dylan, too, ignored the voice until it gradually got louder and harsher. “Excuse me, but you can’t do that here.”

  Dylan pulled his head away from mine and smiled. My heart was still racing, my breath still quivering. I could feel my cheeks warm. We broke out in a chuckle when we realized we were officially getting kicked out of the museum for kissing.

  Grabbing my hand, he led me out of the museum quickly. Once we were outside, we began laughing hysterically.

  “Oh my god, I knew you were a troublemaker.” I laughed, still short on breath.

  “Me? It was you who looked so kissable. You’re the troublemaker.”

  “I can’t believe we got kicked out of there. That, I think, is a first. I feel like I’m in junior high or something.” I bent over. My sides began to ache from the laughter.

  “I’m sorry. I got a little carried away.” He took me in his arms again. “I just have waited for so long to experience your lips.” Slowly leaned over, “I hope we don’t get arrested for this.” His lips were so appetizing. Pulling me so close, we became one as we kissed.

  “Excuse me.” We heard a security guard’s voice break through, and both of us immediately broke out in laughter again.

  “You are so bad.” I playfully hit him.

  “Me? I’m an angel.” He tried to act innocent, joking about the wanted posters that would soon be plastered across town. He leaned in to kiss me again.

  “Excuse me!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  A few weeks passed, and each day Dylan continued to surprise me. I had never dreamed of meeting someone so romantic. Wednesday evening at work there was no one sitting in my section, so I walked over to the bar to pass the time with Brad. I reached for the locket around my neck to fidget with it. I liked to move it back and forth on the chain while I was thinking, but I realized I had left it next to the shower again.

  “I really like him, Brad. He’s so sweet to me.”

  He placed his hand on top of mine, concerned that I was falling too hard. “Nicole, I just don’t want to see you get hurt. He doesn’t have the best reputation with women. I’m worried about you. I’ve seen him break a lot of girls’ hearts.”

  “You’re such a sweetheart, Bradley. What would I do without you?” I lifted myself up on the bar and gave him a kiss on the check. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m a big girl.” I took his hand and gave it a little squeeze.

  Brad had filled my order. For a moment I was so engaged in our conversation, I forgot I was at work. I picked up the tray of drinks. As I turned, I noticed Steve had approached the bar with his coat and gloves on. He’d already paid his bill and left me a generous tip, so I wondered why he was there. “Did you forget something?” I asked Steve before making my rounds.

  “Can I get a couple beers to go?” he asked Brad.

  “I really can’t.” Brad wiped down the counter, not giving it much thought.

  “Are you sure, Brad? He comes in all the time.” I piped in.

  “I won’t open them till I get home,” Steve explained. “I just don’t want to have to make another stop.”

  “Can you do it just this once, Brad? He’s only had a few beers. He isn’t drunk or anything.”

  “I can’t open them,” Brad commented sternly.

  “I understand.”

  “All right. Just this once.” Brad gave in.

  “He drinks Budweiser,” I revealed. “Thank you, Bradley.”

  Brad reached into the refrigerator, pulling out two cold beers. He handed them to Steve. Steve grabbed the bottles by their caps with his gloves.

  “Do you want me to put them in a bag?”

  “That would be great.” Steve placed the beers back on the counter so Brad could put them in the bag. Steve watched carefully. Pleased, the corners of his mouth curled. He paid Brad and walked out the door.

  When he left, I explained that Steve was an incredible tipper, and I didn’t want to risk upsetting him. I thanked Brad for making the exception.

  “I better not get my license revoked,” He commented, half joking. “If he opens them in the parking lot and I get in trouble, you are going down with me.”

  “You can trust him. He’s a good guy.”

  Dylan and Chris showed up at the bar around ten. Another band was playing, so Dylan had the night off.

  “I called Bradley, and he said you all could leave early. You said you wanted to see the Northern lights, and they are going to be amazing tonight.”

  Chris said, “We can watch them on my deck, since we’re away from the city lights—you’ll love the view.”

  “That sounds perfect. Is that okay with you, Nicole?” Emily asked.

  I put my arms around Dylan. “Of course it is.”

  Dylan led me out of the bar. “There’s a great restaurant in town that’ll deliver whatever you want: steak, lobster, crab legs, or sushi. They’ll even send over a waiter to serve us so we can relax and watch the Aurora Borealis with a glass of wine in our hands.”

  When we pulled into the gas station, we saw a blue truck pulling out of the club. It appeared to be the same kind as the one we had seen on the highway weeks before.

  “Wait, that’s Steve’s truck.” I stared out the window.

  “Yeah, I think it’s Steve.” Emily agreed.

  “But he left the club hours ago. What’s he still doing there? Brad is going to kill me if he drank those beers in the parking lot.”

  While we waited inside Chris’s SUV, we saw Steve peer around like he was searching for someone and make a quick right turn as if he were in a hurry.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I’ve never done this before.

  I’m venturing in unchartered waters, Ms. Nicole.

  What are you doing to me?”

  ~Dylan Richardson

  I had fallen asleep in the car. Sitting up on a girl’s bed, I rubbed my eyes and looked around.

  “We’re in Amber’s room.” Emily stated, starring in the mirror, putting on lip gloss. “She is Chris’s sister.”

  I hadn’t realized how tired I was. “What time is it?” I stretched, letting out a big yawn.

  “Don’t worry, you have
n’t been sleeping long. You haven’t missed anything. Dylan carried you in. He didn’t want to wake you up. It was cute.”

  I bit my lip, grabbing the pillow into my arms. “I’ve never felt like this before, Em,” I confided in her. “I have to tell him about Jess, but I’m scared. I don’t want this to end.”

  “He really likes you, Nicole. I can tell.”

  “And Chris . . . I can tell he really likes you, Emily. He’s a sweetheart.”

  “He is, isn’t he? But don’t you dare let him know.” She blushed.

  We entered the living room. The fire crackled. Candles decorated the tables with a romantic hue as soft music played in the background.

  I spotted Dylan by the glow of the fire, so sexy. I made my way over to him.

  “This is beautiful.” I sighed.

  “So are you.” His eyes met mine, arousing me. Just seeing him in the radiance of the fire excited me. So stunning. So charming.

  “We ordered for you. Do you want to check it over just in case?” Dylan handed me the menu.

  “I’m sure it will be perfect, thank you.”

  Chris walked in with a bottle of wine and four glasses. Filling each one, he handed them out, and we lifted the glasses for a toast.

  Dylan took my hand and led me to the couch in front of the fireplace. Emily and Chris made their way to the couch next to ours.

  “The northern lights won’t show up for a few hours, so I thought we could sit by the fire while we wait for the food to arrive,” Chris explained.

  Dylan put his arm around me. He gently tucked the strands of hair that hid my eyes behind my ear. Timidly, I glanced down.

  “I thought of someplace I want to take you tomorrow. It’s a long hike, but the view is worth it.”

  Chris added, “We were talking about it while you were resting. I’ll still be in town tomorrow. You an Em should stay over. You and Dylan can take the guest room if you like tonight.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t,” I whispered to Dylan, leaning my forehead towards his.

  “She can stay in Amber’s room, and I’ll stay in the guest room,” Dylan spoke for me.

  “Of course, whatever you want. The point is you all can stay here. That way I can open up a few more bottles of wine.”

  “I’d like that,” I smiled. “Thank you,” I mouthed to Dylan. I really appreciated that Dylan didn’t pressure me. I answered before I spoke to Emily, but I hoped she would understand. I wasn’t ready for this fairy tale to be over. Dylan was leaving soon, and there was a part of me that wondered if I’d ever see him again.

  “And young lady,” Chris turned to Emily, “you can stay wherever you like as well.” He looked deep into Emily’s eyes. I could tell he was about to kiss her.

  “To being with you.” Dylan raised his glass. We took a sip of the wine and then set the glasses on the table beside us. He leaned over and kissed me. It felt pure, so true.

  Suddenly there was a chime at the door. “I’ll be right back.” Both Dylan and Chris got up to answer the doorbell. The food had arrived. You could tell they were arguing about who would pay the check. Emily and I smiled at each other. So different than the jerks we left at home.

  After a few moments, the gentlemen came over and took our hands. They led us into a dining room with candles everywhere. The table was decorated with flowers and fine china. Soft music serenaded us. The waiter, Kyle, stayed and served us as if we were in one of the finest of restaurants. They thought of every detail. It was seamless: the laughter, the music, the food, the romance.

  “Kyle, can we have another bottle of wine?” Chris asked the waiter, turning to us. “After this one, we should head outside if you want to see the lights.”

  Dylan went with Chris to the back and brought us a stack of blankets. We laid some blankets under us and wrapped ourselves in the others. Dylan sat down, and I nestled in front of him. He gently kissed my neck.

  A greenish hue started to slowly engulf the sky.

  “Oh my god, look.”

  Dylan smiled at my excitement. The bright, starry night became the perfect backdrop for the incredibly bright, multihued glow that soon covered the sky. The display began with a green haze and soon was dancing with red, blue, and purple patterns. Curtains of light rippled through the sky and then suddenly disappeared, only to reappear in new shapes moments later.

  “It’s magic.”

  Dylan’s body sheltered me in warmth. The gentle pulsation in his chest harmonized with mine as we watched the dance of lights. The magical display lasted for about half an hour. When they ended, I laid my head on his chest and turned so I was curled in his lap.

  “Goodnight.” Emily and Chris went inside wrapped in their blankets.

  When they left, Dylan’s lips met mine. I sampled his mouth . . . his neck. “I can’t believe you are leaving,” escaped my lips without warning. A sadness came over me as I realized he would soon be gone. I breathed in. “Where are you going on tour?” I questioned, hoping to hide my disappointment. We hadn’t really talked about him leaving before—it made it easier. But it was too close now to deny.

  “Tour? I’m not going on tour with the guys this time. I’ll actually be starting my contract on the Slope.”

  “You work on the Slope? You’re not touring with the band.”

  “Yeah, I got the job right before I met you. The contract starts next week. I have to go up for four weeks. When I’m off, I’m only home for two weeks, and then I have to go back up.”

  “Bradley told me about the Slope, but he didn’t say you worked up there.”

  “Yeah, I’m not advertising it. It’s better if people just assume the band is going on tour together. Justin didn’t want to start rumors that we were breaking up. Bradley knows, but we asked him not to say anything.”

  “Is the band breaking up?”

  “No, I’ll go on tour with them when I get home. They are going to be playing a lot without me, but they’ll survive. I asked if they would play back up here when I go home so I can see you, but it’s really up to Justin. He decides where we play.”

  It was coming to an end. I didn’t know what to say. The reality that he was leaving in a week depressed me. He could see the sadness in my eyes.

  “The pay on the Slope is really good. Working up there is my way of getting control over my life. My parents have money, but the money comes with a leash.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I guess that would be hard.” I’d probably never see him again. He lived in Washington State, and when he wasn’t working, he would be on tour. But despite the nagging feeling inside my stomach, I didn’t regret a minute that we were together.

  “I want to come and visit you when I’m off. Maybe I can fly in for a few days, or maybe you can come to visit me on tour.”

  I didn’t want to think about it. If we only had a week left together, I wanted to enjoy it. “Let’s just pretend this will last forever.” The moisture from where our lips had ventured began to freeze in the cold, and so we finally made our way to the fireplace and draped the covers by the couch.

  Emily and Chris were not there. They had gone to bed. The warmth of the fire was inviting. I rubbed my hands together, blowing in them.

  Dylan picked up the remote control and the stereo began. Violins sang to us.

  “May I have this dance?” He bowed like we were in an old movie. “This is a beautiful waltz.”

  “Waltz . . . you mean the box dance?” I asked ignorantly.

  He pulled me up off the couch and began in a refined voice, “Austrian music scholar Max Graf wrote, ‘If there exists a form of music that is a direct expression of sensuality, it’s the Waltz . . . .’ It was considered a scandalous dance at first, banned in parts of Switzerland. ‘In those days, there was something unsavory about a woman being gripped in a man’s embrace while whirling in a frenzy around the dance floor.’”

  He pulled me close.

  “To be done right, the bodies have to become almost one—like this.” He again proceeded
with the overly-dramatic voice. ‘People were highly shocked at the eroticism of this dance in which a lady clung to her partner, closed her eyes as in a dream, and glided off as if the world had disappeared. The waltz melodies overflow with longing.’”

  Dylan touched my face. “Desire and tenderness.” He leaned in and kissed my lips, then continued, “Close your eyes. Listen to the music. Doesn’t it just take you away? Some people will tell you the dance is just about stepping the one, two, three beats you hear in the music. But there is also a rise and fall and sway motion that helps you become part of the dream. When I lift my hand like this, it’s a signal to turn. When I step forward, you step back. It’s about our bodies working completely together to create something beautiful. And you have to pretend you are royalty in this dance. It’s all about posture and twirling as one.”

  My midriff was pressed against his and as he straightened his posture. I mimicked his stance.

  “Give me some resistance in your hand so you can feel what I’d like you to do. A gentle pressure will be how we communicate, not words. You will have to read my body.”

  I gently pressed my hand against his.

  “Perfect,” he encouraged, “now listen to the music. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.”

  The violins did entice me to become one with the music. One, two, three. One, two, three. He stepped forward, to the side, and brought his feet together. Then he stepped back, to the side, pulling me with him in all of the steps. He began in the box step so I could pick up the timing, but soon we traveled across the floor. His embrace was tight and our frame, erect. I could feel what he wanted me to do by the way he touched me.

  The dream really began as another song came on. Oh, how I love Nat King Cole. He proceeded to serenade me, sweeping me across the dance floor—I mean living room. No, it was a royal ballroom and I was a princess.

  “It was fascination, I know.

  Seeing you alone with the moonlight above