by Nicki Elson
From her many visits to this restaurant, Trish was familiar with the conical stone spires. The ringed spikes at the top had always made her think of the coiled doorstoppers she used to pull back and release when she was a child. “Ah, Boing Palace,” she said.
Tilting his head forward, Adam looked at her through his eyelashes. “I think I’m best off making no comment on that nickname.” He lowered his menu, unfolding it so that the palace was out of view.
“Did you like Thailand?” Trish asked.
“Oh yes. It’s beautiful. Everything about it is vibrant—the colors, the people.”
“Were you there on business?”
“No,” he answered absently as his eyes roved the menu.
She examined her choices, too, to see if anything new jumped out at her. She couldn’t be certain from his one-word answer, but his heaviness seemed to have returned. She decided to keep her questions light. “What was the best thing you ate while you were there?”
His forehead creased. “It was practically a lifetime ago. I don’t remember what I ate.”
Trish took his dismissive tone as a cue to back off on the questions altogether.
After they ordered, she let him guide the conversation. He asked about her trips to Greece and Germany. Meanwhile, their meals arrived, and as they continued comparing notes on the things they’d seen, his mood seemed to improve.
“Where would you like to travel that you haven’t been?” he asked. “Or has your wanderlust been sated?”
“Hardly. I need to make traveling a priority. It’s the kind of thing I always expected to have more time and money for at some point in the near future, but years have slipped by since graduation, and I haven’t made it out of the country since.”
“So where to?” he asked, sitting back and trapping her in a determined gaze.
“I’ll make it as far as the coast in a couple of weeks to visit my friend who recently relocated to Boston. Does that count?”
“It’s a nice city. Have you been?”
“Nope. Help me decide on my next international destination, world traveler. Where’s your favorite place in this whole wide world?”
“Impossible to answer. There’s too much variety to be able to fairly compare.”
“Allow me to narrow it down for you. Favorite European city.”
“Prague.”
“Favorite Pacific island.”
“Marquesas.”
“Favorite Caribbean island.”
“I’ve never been.”
“You’ve never been to the Caribbean?”
“Correct.”
“Have you at least ridden Pirates of the Caribbean?”
“Pardon?”
“The ride at Disney World.”
“Never been.”
“To Disney World?” She slammed her hands onto the table, making the silverware jump.
He laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Ay yi yi. There’s so much I need to show you. Let’s start with sunset in Chicago.” He was finally lightening up. She couldn’t let the date end now.
He paid their bill, and she led the way out the door and onto the sidewalk. Her intention had been to take him to the beach, but that was better for sunrises since it bordered the east side of the city. For the setting, it would be better to be a bit higher up—which gave her an idea. She stopped abruptly and grasped his hand, turning them in the opposite direction. “I want to try something a few blocks this way,” she said.
He kept her hand comfortably enveloped in his, but once they’d safely crossed an intersection, his pace slowed and she felt his fingers tense. “Just so there’s no mistake,” he said, “the dating plan you’ve explained—no more than three, no letting things go too far—that works for me. It’s the only thing that will work for me. So if you’ve revised your rules, you need to understand that I won’t revise mine. I can’t.”
Her hand went slack in his as red curry churned in her stomach. “Have I said or done something to make you nervous?”
He sighed and released her, pushing his hands into his pockets as he continued walking. “Other than being the kind of woman with whom I’d very much like to pursue things, no. But my life is…full and complicated. I rarely stay in one place for very long, and when I do, my attention is required in other matters. The only decent relationships I’ve ever been able to maintain are with business partners and clients—and even those fall apart sometimes. To be completely frank, I could use a simple, uncluttered liaison. One that doesn’t demand or expect anything from me.”
“By liaison, do you mean…”
“No, not a fling. It doesn’t have to be physical at all. It’s better if it isn’t. I…I enjoy my time with you, and I’d like to be able to do that without worrying that I’m misleading you.”
Trish laughed. It served her right to have her own philosophy thrown in her face by a man with whom she’d “very much like to pursue things.” She hadn’t yet gotten around to analyzing her state of mind, but the pinch at her heart confirmed that her imagination had begun traveling toward the vague figment of something beyond three dates with him.
He regarded her with caution etched in his elegant features.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m laughing because I’m relieved. I’m new at this limited-perspective dating thing, and it’s really, really nice to have someone to reinforce it instead of derail it. My rules haven’t changed. No worries.”
He smiled, making the whole city seem brighter. “Wonderful. I’m glad I didn’t ruin anything by speaking up.”
“No, Mr. Helms, you didn’t. From now on, this is an entirely stress-free liaison. Lookie here—we’ve arrived.” She stepped under the green awning at the entrance of Kurt’s eighteen-story, brick apartment building.
She kissed her fingertips for good luck and typed in the code, hoping her ex hadn’t changed it. The door clicked and she breathed a happy sigh. The rest should be cake. Each of the building’s renters had an individual code for the front door, but they shared one for the rooftop deck. If Kurt hadn’t bothered to change his personal front door code, he certainly wouldn’t try to alter the building-wide one. It was nice to know he trusted her. Never mind that she was currently breaching that trust. She had no idea what she’d do or say if they ran into him on their way up.
She must’ve appeared furtive because as they crossed the open, glossy-floored lobby to the elevator bank, Adam asked in a stage whisper, “What are we doing?”
She turned to him and put a finger to her lips before whispering back. “I’ll let you know when we get there.”
Two other people got on the elevator with them. Trish pulled Adam to stand along the back wall. He looked down at her with one eyebrow half raised and his lips pressed together in a skeptical yet amused scowl. She teased him by squinting and making shifty eyes.
By the time the elevator reached the top floor, the others had exited. Tasting victory, Trish grabbed Adam’s hand and led him out of the elevator, up the stairwell, and to the rooftop. A quick scan reassured her that Kurt wasn’t there. The few other occupants were strangers.
Adam stepped away from her toward the center of the huge patio. He spun in a slow circle, taking in the elevated view of Chicago architecture. Between buildings to the east, the long line of the horizon over Lake Michigan was visible. The vast expanse of water had darkened to a purplish ink with the sun lowering behind the buildings to the west.
“Stunning,” he said in a hushed voice. The sky’s palette faded from burnt orange directly above the city all the way to pale blue over the farthest reaches of the lake. Adam’s head swiveled in apparent indecision over where to look—until his gaze landed on Trish. “Why did we have to sneak up here?”
She walked closer to be sure her voice wouldn’t carry to the people across the way. “This is my ex-boyfriend’s building. I sorta didn’t ask permission to continue using his code.”
Adam gave her a funny look, but it wasn’t disapproving. �
��Aren’t you afraid of running into him?”
“Not up here. He hardly ever took advantage of this amenity during the nearly three years we dated. If he catches us, I’ll tell him you live here.” She smiled at the new plan and snatched both of his hands, lifting them so they were palm to palm with hers.
As she pressed her body closer, he folded his fingers onto the back of her hands. “Clever.” His rich voice rolled over her, and they stood still, trapped in each other’s gazes.
Trish’s heart thumped. She barely even breathed. Adam glanced down at her slightly parted lips then back up into her eyes, giving her a glimpse of the burning hunger that welled inside him. Trish was overcome with a need to feed it.
Voices grew louder as the people on the other side of the deck came closer. Adam lowered his lids in a prolonged blink. When he opened them, all signs of his fervor were gone. Giving an ironic smile, he dropped her hands, even though the group moved past them to the stairs.
“I suppose we’ll have a better view of the sunset over there.” He turned and moved toward the western railing.
What do I have to do to get that man to give me a damned kiss? Trish wondered as she watched him walk away from her. She sauntered to the western rail and maneuvered herself close enough to him that he had no choice but to loop his arm around her. For a brief moment, he rested his hand on her hip, but soon lifted it to hold onto the rail. She was surrounded by him as they watched the waning day.
“Do you miss him?” Adam asked.
“The ex-boyfriend who lives here? At times, I guess.”
“Is there any chance you brought me here because you want to run into him?”
She considered the idea, but shook her head, leaning her back against Adam’s chest. The temperature had lowered from the hot day at the baseball field. It was still warm enough for Trish to be comfortable in her strapless dress, but his body heat against her bare skin felt nice. “I saw him a couple of weeks ago—with his new girlfriend. I’ve apparently got some residual anger about the way he broke up with me, but no part of me wants to get back together with him.”
“Then why are we here?” Adam murmured into her ear.
“For this.” She swept an arm over the railing, gesturing toward the sky. “Showing you the sunset is the only reason, I swear. I never felt forever with him; end of story.”
Adam’s light exhale tickled Trish’s shoulder. “I’m glad for you that you can see things so clearly. Staying with the wrong person can end up being more lonely than being alone.”
“Sounds like you learned that one the hard way.”
“I did.”
Orange relinquished more and more of its claim on the sky. The massive smudge of color stained the clouds stormy gray even while their cottony edges flamed. Adam dropped a hand from the railing to wrap his arm around Trish’s waist.
She started at his touch and tilted her head to look at him. As soon as her eyes locked on his, he dropped his arm and shifted his gaze away from her to look across the wide deck toward the lake. The brilliant blue in the east had darkened to midnight. She turned her whole body to be front-to-front with him. Touching her hand to the side of his face, she brought his focus back to her. She was done waiting for him to make a move.
“I know you said it was best to not get physical,” she said, noting the faint press of new stubble against her palm. “But I hope kisses don’t count because I’m going to kiss you, Mr. Helms. If that goes well, I don’t plan to stop until your face turns purple and you’re gasping for air.”
He didn’t move or say anything to dissuade her, but a terrified flash raced across his eyes—now made coppery under the scorched heavens. Trish plastered her mouth against his. She’d take away his fear. She’d pull him up to the surface of his melancholy sea and breathe lightness into him.
His mouth was stiff, but she touched her coaxing lips to his again and again until he relented. He was gentle, almost timid, but at the first graze of her tongue against his, he lunged into her. One of his hands splayed across her bare back and the other claimed the base of her spine, pulling her against him. His kiss became ravenous, nearly desperate.
Tasting his need fueled Trish’s desire to satisfy him. Their frenzied mouths moved against each other. Only half aware of what the rest of her body was doing, she raked her fingers through the back of his sculpted hair and coiled a leg around him.
The muted sound of the latch engaging at the rooftop entrance recalled them to reality. She lowered her thigh, and they pulled their mouths apart but continued to hold each other close. His heavy breath cooled the wetness coating her lips.
“Is my face purple enough for you?” he murmured as a boisterous group emerged onto the roof.
Trish laughed, leaning in to rest the side of her face against his. “I’m not through with you, Mr. Helms,” she whispered, giving his earlobe a soft bite before stepping back. She slid her arms down his sides to grasp onto his hands. “Ever been to a blues club?”
“A few.”
“Would you like to go to one with me?” She tilted her head and gave him an innocent smile.
“Tonight?”
“Uh huh.” She bit her bottom lip to complete the shy schoolgirl effect.
“No man in this entire world could resist such an enticing invitation.” He leaned in to touch a peck onto her ready lips. Dropping his lashes to look down at his white polo shirt and long shorts, he asked. “Am I dressed for it?”
She arched her back, keeping hold of his hands for support, and scanned his athletically lean physique from topsiders to collar. “To be honest, you’re more dressed for going back to my place and getting naked, but since we’re trying to be good…” She arched an eyebrow as if checking with him to make sure that was still the rule. He arched an eyebrow back to indicate that, yes, indeed, it was. “We should arrive early enough to snag a discreet back table. Nobody’ll even notice us. Except the waiter, I hope.”
“Lead the way.” He lifted one of her hands to his mouth and pressed a soft, warm kiss onto it.
“Mind if I stop in the lobby bathroom on the way out? It’s been a while since I’ve looked into a mirror.”
“It’s not necessary. But that’s fine.”
In the downstairs restroom, Trish did what she could with lip gloss, concealer, eyeliner, and a comb. When she rejoined Adam and led him out of the building, she didn’t give Kurt a thought. They walked to the blues club, filling the few blocks with happy talk of how lucky they were to have had such a nice day, how beautiful the sunset had been, and how lovely the evening air felt.
At the small, dark club, they claimed a rounded booth against the wall. An efficient waiter set them up with dirty martinis. The band hadn’t come on stage yet, so recorded tunes played in the background. Trish and Adam clinked glasses and toasted a successful second date. The liquor and the spell cast by the sunset fused within Trish to create a warm glow.
They were on their next round of drinks when the lights dimmed even further. The thrumming twang of a blues guitar riff throbbed throughout the room. Brass instruments and percussions joined in to set the rhythm by which Trish’s heart beat. The lead singer stepped to the microphone, sending his aching lamentations straight through her. She and Adam sat in silence, her back toward him as she faced the stage, sipping her drink and letting the atmospheric performance soak in.
She was ever so grateful she’d left her hair twisted up when Adam’s thumb tickled back and forth over the curve at the base of her neck. His fingers rested on the flesh of her shoulder, and she swore she felt him touch a feather-light kiss to her bare back. Closing her eyes, she took a generous sip from her glass, barely managing to set it gracefully back onto the table without spilling. The sensations pulsing through her were nearly overwhelming. When his fingertips trailed across her throat and up to her jaw, inching her face around to his, she was done for.
Their mouths pressed together, hot but moving more languidly over each other than they had on the rooftop. With the
sultry rhythm floating all around them, they were in no hurry. They had nothing to do but taste and explore each other. The safety of the crowded room would keep them within the confines of their self-imposed rules.
Chapter 10
“I SWEAR MY JAW WAS SORE for two days straight,” Trish told Lyssa. She’d arrived in Boston the night before. The girls had stayed up late talking, slept in, and were having a lazy morning around the apartment, staying in their jammies and drinking coffee while they talked some more. Trish was in the midst of relaying her marathon date with Adam.
Lyssa held up a hand to stop her. “Please leave out the details that caused said soreness.”
Trish hurled a throw pillow at her friend, who sat on the rug. “I only meant from kissing.”
Lyssa’s eyes went wide when the pillow knocked into her shoulder, jostling her half-filled mug. “Hey! Don’t make me spill in Hayden’s pristine beige and white palace.” Her boyfriend had left early that morning for work. It was a Thursday, but Lyssa wouldn’t start classes until the following month.
Trish leaned against the low arm of the sleek, blond sofa that had served as her bed. Hugging a white pillow to her chest, she gazed out the long, eleventh floor windows at several tall buildings in Boston’s financial district. “This is a great pad—even if its elegant sheers let in an abundance of sunlight at an ungodly hour.”
“Sorry about that. I guess we’re not quite guest-ready.”
Trish’s eyes roved over the bright, polished space. “I don’t see any of your stuff here.”
“That shelf of books is mine.” Lyssa pointed at the bookcase between two windows. “And I’ve got a lot of junk in the bedroom. Hayden had the place fully decked out by the time I got here, and my garage-sale chic clashes with his urban minimalistic.”
“It’s your place, too. You should be allowed to redecorate if you want.”
Lyssa shrugged. “The bones of the place are more in line with his style, anyhow.”
Trish regarded her friend with more scrutinizing eyes. “As much as I like it, it’s missing the coziness of your apartment in Lincoln Park. Are you comfortable here?”