Closely Guarded Secret

by Money, Natalie

  “Porsche Panamera Turbo S,” Bryce says with pride.

  “She’s a beaut, so is your Cayenne Turbo S, for that matter,” Steven quips and I’m embarrassed for him making a big deal over Bryce’s cars. I glare at Steven but he gives me his deadpan stare and goes back to reading the paper.

  As we reach the front door, Bryce hauls me into his arms and into a deep kiss. “I wanted to do that this morning when I woke up next to you, but I knew it would’ve led to something else.” I’m flushed all over. I don’t want him to leave. “I’ll see you at eleven,” he calls out over his shoulder and flashes that panty-melting smile before getting into his car.

  “So, what happened last night?” Steven’s asks as soon as I walk back inside.

  “What do you mean?” I ask innocently.

  “Don’t play games with me. Did you?” Steven blurts out.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, we didn’t. We talked until we both fell asleep.” A vision of Steven pops in my head of him standing outside my bedroom door, giving pointers on sex. I shudder and erase that thought.

  “I guess he can be a gentleman,” Steven says.

  “Bryce told me how he ended up at the bar last night.” I look first at Steven, then to Sampson. Steven doesn’t say a word and Sampson is wise not to chime in, but they both have the biggest grins plastered all over their traitorous faces. I’ll figure out a way to get back at them. We talk about last night over breakfast, and how much fun we had. “It’s already ten fifteen. I have to get ready.”

  “Where are you in a rush to?” Steven asks.

  “A volleyball game.” He looks puzzled.

  “Bryce plays beach volleyball on Saturdays and asked me to go. I have to be there at eleven.”

  Rushing up the stairs, I’m ready and out the door by ten forty-five. On my way out, I grab my camera for some candid shots. San Francisco is a great people-watching city and you never know what you’ll see.

  I get to Baker Beach in record time. The views here are fantastic. Between the glistening of the water, the Golden Gate Bridge and a forested area, this is a photographer’s paradise. I brought my sweater to ward off any chill wind coming off the Pacific, but today it’s warm and I’m not sure I’ll need it.

  As I look around, I notice some of the patrons are nude. No wonder Bryce and his fellow players chose this beach. I see Bryce talking with some other guys. Since it’s almost game time, I get out my camera and start taking shots of all the scenes around me. Bryce sees me and makes a quick jog my way. He leans down and plants a quick kiss on my lips.

  “For luck,” he says with a wink, and heads back over to start the game.

  As he joins his other teammates, I get a better look at his body. Oh my, I was right. His legs do start at his neck. Long, lean, and muscular, is the best way I know how to describe them. His sleeveless shirt shows off his well-sculpted, muscled arms. I think I may be drooling and wipe my hand across my lips to double check that I’m not. I bring him into view in my lens and start snapping away, managing to get a lot of him in action. I’ll enjoy looking at these later.

  Grunts and loud sounds come from both teams. It’s a competitive sport, which requires, from the look of it, pain-staking endurance. I watch the intensity of the game as both teams go back and forth with scoring. Just when I think it may be over, Bryce jumps up and spikes the ball, making the other team miss, and scores the winning point for his team. I clap enthusiastically, showing my support. Each of his teammates gives high fives to the others, shaking hands with the losing team.

  They all talk for a few minutes then Bryce turns to me. “Ready?” he asks as I approach them.

  “Sure. Where do you want to go?”

  “Charles dropped me off. Do you think you could give me a ride home?”

  “I thought you wanted to go have lunch?” I ask.

  “I do, but I need a shower before we go.” Sand falls from his shorts as he shakes them. I’m nervous but I don’t understand why. Does he think we’re going to have sex? My heart rate increases at the thought. Get a grip and stop being paranoid.

  “Okay, I can drop you home then meet you somewhere.”

  “I prefer we go together.” I’m not getting off the hook that easily.

  “I’d like to change clothes, so we’ll stop by my house first before I take you home.”

  “You can wait in the living room. I’ll only be a couple of minutes. Would you like something to drink?” I ask once we get to my house.

  “Some water would be great,” he says.

  Steven is in the kitchen cleaning out the fridge. He looks surprised to see me. “Hey. Just stopping by to change before we go out for lunch.” I grab a bottle of water and take it to Bryce.

  As I make my way back to the stairs, I hear Steven talking to Bryce, which makes me happy. I’m glad they get along. Then I hear what Steven says and in an instant, I’m furious and embarrassed.

  “I like you, Bryce, and have advocated for you. Seeing you two together last night is the happiest I’ve seen her in years. I’m glad because she deserves to be. She had a bad experience and that’s all I’m going to say about it; so I’m asking you, man to man, please don’t hurt her. She shows the world her tough outer shell, but on the inside, she’s fragile and breakable . . .”

  I rush down the stairs in a flash and interrupt the conversation before Steven can blab anymore. I approach Steven, never taking my eyes off his.

  “Bryce, are you ready?” I ask.

  “Sure,” he says with a strange look on his face.

  I bring Steven into a tight embrace and whisper in his ear, “We’ll talk about this later.” I know he can tell from my tone, the fire from Hell will be unleashed upon him for saying that to Bryce.

  After driving in silence, mainly due to me being lost in my thoughts, we arrive at his house. My heart beats in double time as I get a feeling of dread sinking low in my stomach. I hope he hasn’t changed his mind about us. Steven and his big mouth.

  Maybe I should cut my losses, drop him off and go home? It will hurt less in the long run because I won’t become attached. It’s only our fourth date. The only problem with that is, I have become attached to him and in such a short time. It can’t be normal to feel this way about someone in a few short weeks. This is why I didn’t want to go out with anyone. I can’t handle the rejection. He hands me an access card as I pull up to his parking garage. With shaking hands, I reach for it.

  “Hey…” taking my hand he says, “Ali, your hands are shaking. Look at me.” He puts his fingers under my chin, bringing my face toward his.

  “What’s wrong? This is the same look you had on the plane during the storm. Talk to me.”

  It’s fear you’re seeing, Bryce. Downright, fear. He probably thinks I’m going to have a major freak out. A lone tear rolls down my cheek but I’m quick to wipe it away.

  “I . . . I’ll understand if you want me to drop you off.”

  “Why would you think that? We just got here.” I see the confusion in his expression.

  “I thought maybe after what Steven said.”

  “He’s your friend and thinks you need to be protected.” He sounds so sincere. “Though, he didn’t say why.” He searches my eyes for an answer. “Go ahead and drive in the garage.” He directs me to a parking space.

  I shut off the car and he turns me to face him. My palms sweat and I feel sick. My head is reeling. I don’t know what to do. I’m starting to panic. Am I overreacting? I don’t know the first thing about dating.

  “I’m so sorry, Bryce. I can’t believe he said that to you.”

  “Look, I know he was being protective, but I guarantee it will take a lot more than a friendly talk to scare me off.”

  “You haven’t said anything since we left my house. I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

  “Ali,” he says with a firm tone, “If I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t be. I thought you knew this b
y now.”

  “This is all new to me. I’m figuring it out as I go. I haven’t dated in a long time.”

  “Yes, you mentioned that last night. Steven said you had a bad experience. Is that what all of this is about?”

  Bad experience. That’s putting it mildly.

  “It was a long time ago, Bryce. I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “I can appreciate your feelings, but is it something that’ll keep us from moving forward?” he asks.

  How can I put his mind at ease when in truth, I don’t know. When he finds out, his reaction will be the answer. Seeing the concern on his face, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “I had a bad experience when I was younger. It put me off dating completely, or so I thought. That was, until you came into my life.” His undivided attention gives me encouragement to continue. “You . . . all of this . . . is uncharted waters for me and I don’t have a map.” I lean into his touch as he lightly caresses my face. “You came into my life so unexpectedly, like a whirlwind, and turned everything I know and have closed myself off from, upside down.”

  “What kind of bad experience could have put you off dating?” he asks, baffled I think, by my admission.

  “What happened . . . changed my view of life and relationships,” I answer evasively.

  If he knew, I wonder if that would be a game changer?

  “Are you saying you don’t want to see me anymore?” He looks perplexed and I need to put his mind at ease, while at the same time, explain myself without giving too much away.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I count the minutes until I can see you, can talk to you. Can feel your lips on mine. I like when we kiss.” The corners of his delectable mouth turn up into a grin. Bringing my fingers to his lips, he places tender kisses on each one, never taking his eyes off of mine.

  “You’re so guarded, Ali. I respect you enough not to push you into anything you’re not ready to do or talk about. I know I need to earn your trust, and one day I hope you feel comfortable enough to confide in me. All I ask, is don’t mistake me for the person from your past and regard me as having the same standards as them. It’s not fair to me.”

  “I know. Please be patient with me.” He takes me in his arms and I melt into him.

  “I want you Ali, and someday soon I hope you’ll believe me.”

  Him wanting me isn’t the problem. It’s me giving myself to him. “Bryce, I need time to adjust to all these new sensations I’m feeling since I’ve met you. I need to know I can trust you implicitly, then we’ll see where this will go.”

  “I know. Steven’s right, you’re more fragile on the inside than you let on. The shell you wear on the outside is so hard, almost impenetrable, but I’ve managed to crack it a bit.” A shy smile creases on his lips and it makes my heart melt.

  “I fought having any feelings towards you, and I think you know this. You came on so strong when we met, which I wasn’t used to at all, and by your own admission; you love the thrill of the hunt. That’s how all of this started. You thought I was like all the other women in your life, and it was such a turn off.”

  “I’ll admit the first time I saw you last year, that may have been the case. But in New York, my way of thinking shifted after I met you. In the past, the relationships I had were a means to an end. Now, I want something, and someone, more grounded.”

  “When we went out and had a real conversation, I saw a different side of you. You acted like a normal person,” I say to him.

  “A normal person, as opposed to?” he asks, intrigued.

  “An opportunist.” I know he understands. “Saying that, though, opportunity came knocking at my door that day. When I answered, there you stood, so unexpected. It’s a surprising revelation to me and to everyone who knows me,” I confess, and I hope he hears the honesty in my words.

  “I’m glad you opened the door,” he says, while caressing my face. He leans over and kisses me softly. “I need to get out of these sandy clothes.”

  “Yes you do, and I’m getting hungry.” As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I know exactly how he’s going to take it. His eyes widen and his pupils contract. “No, that’s not what I meant,” I’m quick to retort.

  “It’s what I mean.” He jogs to my side of the car, opening my door. “As much as I would love to have you for lunch, I know you’re not ready to take that step. For now, we both need real food. Come on, I’ll get ready and we can go.” A warm sense of calm surrounds me as he takes my hand. The sexual tension crackles around us once the elevator doors close. His breaths becomes as labored as mine and I have to restrain myself from jumping him.

  A loud ping announces our arrival to his floor. The doors open to the most magnificent living space I’ve ever been in. The spacious room with cherry wood floors has a huge, plush cream area rug in the living room that complements the furniture and walls, which are done in medium browns and cream.

  The floor to ceiling windows on two sides are at least 20 feet high. There’s a built-in stainless steel gas fireplace on the back wall. If it’s this beautiful down here, I can only imagine what the rest of the house looks like.

  Outside is a wrap-around balcony that goes on forever, with high walls constructed all around, also with floor to top windows. It has the most spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge and downtown.

  “You have a beautiful home, Bryce. Big, but beautiful.” It’s on this side of being over the top from anything I’ve ever seen.

  “Thank you. I know it may look like too much but I needed a place with more security.”

  “Why? Didn’t your house have security?” I ask.

  “Yes, but it wasn’t a gated community and was too accessible. Once word got out about my wealth . . . lets say I had uninvited visitors.”

  Of course, him being single and resembling a Greek God doesn’t help his cause. “Makes sense.” I’m still in awe, standing in this vast space with him.

  He goes on to say, “I was naïve about my wealth and thought people wouldn’t care and leave me alone. Plus, I’m closer to work, so it made sense to move.”

  When I see the size of the massive kitchen with its stainless steel appliances and double oven, my eyes almost bug out of my head. There’s also a huge center island made of marble and a bar that also serves as an eating area, lined with four stainless steel barstools.

  “Do you cook?” I ask.

  “Yes.” He says. I wait for him to elaborate but he doesn’t.

  “Steven would pass out if he saw this. He loves to cook.”

  “Maybe I’ll invite him over one night,” he says as he ambles toward me.

  “I wouldn’t if I were you. He loves the creative process and thinks he has to use every pot and pan. Besides, once he sees this place, you’ll never get rid of him.”

  “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” he asks. He closes the space between us and wraps his arms around me. The scent of salt air and sweat surround him but it’s not offensive.

  “I could give you a tour upstairs,” he says, peppering my face and neck with kisses.

  “Maybe later,” I say, not sure if I could trust either of us in his bedroom right now. “You need a shower.” I hold my nose in mock disgust and he gives me a slight swat on my ass, then dips me into a kiss to end all kisses. It’s forceful but gentle, intense but crucial. When he brings me upright I sway a little before finding my balance. Damn, my lips are on fire along with the rest of me. My soul screams at me for having restraint and not throwing myself to the ground, letting him take me.

  “Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.” He winks then takes the stairs, two at a time. Twenty minutes later, he emerges smelling ever so delicious. “Are you ready? I’ll drive.”

  “What about my car?”

  “Okay, I’ll follow you and we’ll go from there,” he says, ushering me to the elevator.

  The drive to my house doesn’t take much time at
all. I see Steven, but I don’t want to talk to him because I’m still upset. He’s wise not to say anything to me as I walk over to Bryce’s car and we leave.

  #

  After a delicious lunch, we stroll along the Wharf hand in hand, blending in with the tourists. I never thought it would be possible to allow myself the luxury of dating and being comfortable with another person. I was living in a black and white world, absent of color. Now, everything feels like a vibrant, new experience, and I know it’s because of Bryce.

  “Did you always know what you wanted to do, to be?” I ask as we wait in line for a cable car.

  “Images would pop up in my mind. They were more in the abstract, so I started sketching and writing down my thoughts, trying to make sense of it all.”