by Té Russ
He stopped short and blinked. Black orchids. His mind began racing. When did he start having those dreams? Almost five years ago, after he'd met....
He shook his head and smiled brightly as everything became clear. That would explain why in his dream she never responded to Susan's name, why she never turned around. They were similar in build, though he would say Liz was much more curvaceous than Susan.
At the time when he'd first met Liz right after Susan left him, they'd both had long hair. Susan had cut hers into a stylish bob since then, while Liz kept hers long and curly. Except for last night.
And then there was her exotic scent. There was no denying that Liz smelled like the flowers the woman was always surrounded by in his dreams. Black orchids.
How could he not have realized before now?
He laughed out loud. All this time, all these years, he had not been dreaming of Susan. He'd been dreaming of Liz. She was his saving grace. She was his dream lover.
It seemed he even owed her an apology in his dreams. He'd start with reality.
He knocked on her door and waited for an answer. When none came, he called out to her.
“Liz?”
He waited a moment, and there was still no answer. He put his hand on the doorknob, and then hesitated to open it.
What if she was getting dressed? What if she was not dressed yet? The thought that she might possibly be naked behind the door made his body stir.
He admonished himself for having that thought at the moment and convinced himself that if she was not answering, she was probably still sleep.
He opened the door just barely and whispered to her. “Don't throw anything at me,” he joked keeping his eyes to the ground just in case he was wrong about her being undressed. When there was no response he looked up and around the room.
Her bed was made and the room looked as if no one had even been there. He started to get an unsettling feeling, but decided he was probably just jumping to conclusions and figured she was just downstairs having breakfast with Lila.
He headed to the kitchen and stopped short when he remembered what went on last night in there. He didn't want things to be awkward. But he wasn't going to lie to himself; he wanted to explore these new feelings he was developing for his best friend. But it was clear she did not feel the same way. He would just have to convince her to trust him on this new journey. He took a deep breath and prepared himself to see her again.
Lila was alone in the kitchen. He looked around confused. “Where's Liz?”
Lila looked up at him. “She went home last night.”
Boy you really messed things up, John thought to himself. You scared her so badly she ran out in a thunderstorm, the one thing she is most afraid of, to get away from you. He was riding up the elevator to Liz's apartment. When Lila told him that she'd seen Liz getting in a cab from her bedroom window last night after they'd talked in the kitchen, he didn't waste anytime getting home. He stopped by the florist, to get her favorite flowers to go along with his apology.
He felt a strange ache in his chest, remembering how he'd looked out his window when he got home only to see Liz had shut her curtains. He'd stopped by his place to take a shower and change clothes.
The elevator door opened to Liz's floor. He made the quick walk to her door and knocked.
Liz knew it was him. She stood there staring at the door, much like she had last night when he'd knocked on her bedroom door at the chateau.
He rested his palm against the door. “Peaches,” he called to her. “Peaches, I know you're in there. Please open the door.”
He sounded so desperate; she went to the door and opened it.
He gave her a good once over. She looked like she hadn't slept all night. Even still, she was unspeakably beautiful. He tried to lighten the mood by bringing some semblance of their regular selves to the conversation. “Geez Lizzie, you look like hell.” He'd always been honest with her before. No sense in changing that now.
She glared at him. “I didn't get any sleep last night.”
He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah, I had quite a difficult time sleeping myself. My fault for both of our sleepless nights I suppose.”
She continued to stare at him not speaking. She glanced at the flowers, and then looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. She recognized her favorite flowers.
“Look Lizzie, I came to apologize for last night. I let things get way out of hand and I'm sorry.”
She stood there silent for a moment longer, then visibly relaxed. She stepped back so he could come in and she took the flowers he handed to her.
“I was so worried, how things would be after that kiss,” she said. “I'm so glad we will be able to work things out and have everything back to normal, they way it use to be.” She headed for the kitchen to put the flowers in some water.
“I think you misunderstood me Peaches; I said I was sorry for things getting out of hand, I didn't say I was sorry for kissing you.” She froze. He could see her visibly tense up again.
Might as well get it all out, he thought. “And I don't want things the way they use to be or 'back to normal'.”
She turned around slowly. She was trembling. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “It will ruin everything.”
He moved towards her very cautiously. “Or,” he said slowly, “It could make everything so much more wonderful.”
“We've been friends way too long. Best friends.”
“Who better to be lovers than best friends.”
He'd said it. Lovers. She shook her head. “What has gotten into you John? Are you feeling these strange feelings because Susan is getting married?”
He rushed over to her and grabbed her arms and shook her gently. He glared at her.
“Susan has nothing to do with what I'm feeling for you. Do you hear me? Nothing!”
All she could do was nod her head. He let out a deep sigh. “Look Lizzie. When I saw Susan, all the feelings I thought I would have seeing her again were not there. I was completely and one hundred percent over her. She just sat there with her fiancé, nose in the air like she was the queen of everything. It didn't take long to realize the real reason she'd left me at the altar. I was a struggling cook and she would clearly be marrying beneath her.”
Liz couldn't help but cup his face in her hands. As usual when talking about Susan, that fire was in her eyes. “Susan was a fool to let you go. And a horrible person if she couldn't stand by you while you fought for your dreams.”
He reached up and held her hands in his and leaned his forehead against hers.
“Peaches, I don't know when things changed for me, or how, or even why. But this feeling...it's not going away for me. And I'd rather face it head on and see where it leads us rather than run from it.”
He looked her in the eyes. “Can you honestly tell me that you don't feel it too?”
She let out a shuddering breath. “Johnny, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel it too.” She felt his hands squeeze around hers with hope. “But I'm scared. What if things don't work out? I couldn't lose you as my best friend. What if....”
He stopped her talking by leaning forward and giving her the gentlest kiss on the lips. He kissed her once more then pulled away. “You just have to trust me. Trust us. Trust this.” He rubbed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “I've always been there for you and that isn't going to change, not now or ever. Have I ever steered you wrong before about anything?”
“No,” she replied looking down.
“I'm not wrong about this either. I just know it.”
She stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself. “I need time to think about this, Johnny.”
He smiled and headed for the door and she followed him. He turned and gave her another sweet kiss. “Take all of the time you need Peaches. I'm not going anywhere and you know where to find me.” And then he slipped out of the door.
John was in his office at his restaurant the next day when he got a very
pleasant surprise in the form of his younger sister Miranda. She entered his office, jubilant as always.
“How's it going big brother?”
“Hey Randi,” he said standing to hug her. “It's going well, how are classes?”
She shrugged. “They are going well so far. No problems.”
Randi was in her final semester of getting her Master's degree in journalism.
“And how's work?”
“You know how it is, the glamorous life of a copy editor,” she replied deadpan about her job at the upscale magazine Zenith. He knew what she really wanted to do was become a photojournalist. Unable to find any place to hire her as a photographer, she'd found a job with the magazine as a copy editor after receiving her Bachelor's.
She sat down in the chair across from his and stared at him.
He stared back. “What?” he asked. She was always good at reading people.
“What is going on with you? Really?”
He sighed, exasperated and began to talk about the things going on between him and Liz.
“She is still afraid, so I'm not rushing anything.”
Randi beamed at her older brother. “Oh I just knew it! I knew it from the day I met her! Of course it was too soon after that whole Susan debacle. And I knew something was up with her today, even with her being sick and all-”
“Wait a minute. Lizzie is sick? You've seen her already?”
“Yeah, I went by your place first and since you weren't there I went to see her. She's got a real nasty cold. How do you not know that? When was the last time you seen her?”
“I talked to her last night, but she seemed fine.”
“Well she's in bad shape now. I made her some soup before I left and told her I'd be back by before heading to Mom and Dad's.”
He nodded only half listening to her, now concerned about Liz. She smiled at him.
“When are you going to go check on her?”
“As soon as I let the manager know.”
Chapter 9
Liz rarely got sick. I never should have gone out in that stupid thunderstorm, she thought.
She was grateful for Randi stopping by. They had always been very good friends. That also seemed like another factor regarding this possible relationship with John. If things went badly, she'd not only lose him as a friend, but she would also lose his sister's friendship as well.
It was just too much for her to think about, especially with a terrible cold.
She was lying on the couch, when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was Randi returning to check on her as she promised she got up and headed to the door. She knew Randi would fuss at her for not finishing her soup, but she just didn't have an appetite.
When she opened the door her eyes rounded like saucers. John was standing there, loving smile on his face and grocery bags in his hand.
She thought of her appearance and went to slam the door in his face but he stopped it.
“I've already seen you, Peaches, you might as well let me in.”
“No!” she said behind the door, trying to close it.
“And why not?”
“I'm sick, you can't be around me.”
“I already let Marnee and the other managers for the restaurants know I'd be away until further notice. It's all taken care of.”
“You can't come in here John. I must look like the swamp thing.”
“I've seen you look a mess time and time again Peaches.”
She was silent.
“Why would you care about how you look around me all of sudden unless....” He let the rest hang in the air, but she knew exactly what he was implying and defiantly swung the door open as if to prove a point. She glared at him for a moment clearly annoyed then began to have a coughing fit. He sat the bags down by the door and picked her up and carried her back to the couch.
“I could have very well walked to the couch.”
“I know,” he replied. He laid her down on the couch and covered her up with a blanket.
She sneezed.
“Bless you.”
“Thank you.”
He walked back by the door and pick up the bags. Unable to contain her curiosity, she rose up on her elbows and peeked at him. “What's in the bags?”
He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled. Holding one bag up at a time he said, “Clothes, and food.”
At her raised eyebrow, he continued. “The clothes are so I don't have to leave to go to my place to change. And I know all Randi made you was a can of that processed crap soup, so I'm going to make you some real soup.”
So Randi had told. She'd had a feeling that Randi would tell John that she was sick. She didn't expect him to show up so fast.
It was too late to complain now. He was here and he wasn't going anywhere. She laid back down covering her hand with her face. Soon she felt John's strong hand moving her hand and replacing it with his own on her forehead.
“You clearly have a fever,” he mumbled. Then he stood and grabbed his bags. “I'll put these in the guest room,” he said holding up one bag. “Then I'll get started on your soup. Do you need anything?”
She pointed to a piece of paper on the coffee table. “I went to the doctor this morning.” She coughed then continued. “He called in a prescription for me, but I haven't gone to pick it up yet.”
He nodded. “Once your soup is done, I'll go pick it up for you.”
She sneezed then nodded, laying her head back on the pillow.
“Johnny,” she whispered. He turned to look at her. “I'm glad you're here.”
He walked back over to her and leaned down and kissed her on her warm forehead. “Get some rest,” was all he said, but in his eyes he was telling her where else would I be?
Liz had a fitful sleep, coughing and sneezing. Soon the smells of fresh chicken noodle soup filled her nostrils and John's deep voice filled her ears.
“Peaches, wake up honey, you have to eat.”
She felt weak, but she pushed herself up slightly and opened her eyes to see a spoon in her face. She took a sip of the soup. John was right, his was much better than the stuff out of the can.
“That's it sweetheart,” she heard him say, “Eat some more.”
The warmth of the soup going down her throat was soothing. She felt full after eating about half of the soup. She flopped back against the couch and shook her head letting him know she could eat no more.
“You did good Peaches.”
She felt herself being lifted and carried to her bedroom. She snuggled into the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him. Soon she felt her plush bed underneath her and her soft covers surrounding her.
She vaguely heard John whisper something in her ear. Something about her prescription? She just nodded to whatever he said. Then she allowed the sleep to claim her completely.
True to his word, John never left, except for the one time to pick up her prescription. He couldn't remember a time seeing Liz so sick. Besides feeding her and giving her medicine, he also straightened up around the place. Later that night, he went and checked her temperature, feeling her forehead. Her fever had gone down considerably. As he prepared to get up to leave, she rolled over and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Don't go,” he heard her mumble into the pillow.
His heart began pounding rapidly in his chest. Even with her sick, the feeling of her wrapped around him in such a way made him feel amazing. This felt so right. This felt like the way things should be. He ran his hand across her hair.
“I'll stay for a little while,” he whispered.
He smiled as she nodded and felt her squeeze him tighter. He kicked off his shoes and slid further down in the bed, then gathered her up in his arms. With her head on his chest, he continued to stroke her hair and watched her sleep.
An hour later, she hadn't moved. “Peaches,” he whispered. “Peaches, I'm going to go to the guestroom.” As soon as he began to move, she squeezed him tighter. She didn't say anything, but her actions spoke volumes, whether she
realized it or not.
This time he lay all the way down in the bed with her, and held her well after he'd fallen asleep. He stayed with her for the next three days and slept with her every night.
Liz opened her eyes to darkness. She looked over to the clock and saw the time. It was four in the morning. She felt much better than she had in days and she knew why. She felt the weight of his strong arm draped possessively around her waist. She tried to move gently so she wouldn't wake him, but the minute she moved, he pulled her tighter in his arms. She rolled around in his arms to face him.
He was still asleep. The moon was shining through the window, casting a glow on his face. He looked absolutely beautiful. He looked, as he’d recently described her, absolutely delectable. His facial features were strong, with his high, yet masculine cheekbones. She reached up to touch his cheek, but quickly pulled her hand away, thinking the touch she was about to place on his cheek was reserved for lovers.
As she continued to stare at him, his eyes slowly opened. A look of heavy desire filled his eyes. She looked away and tried to search her scrambled mind for something to say. She could hardly think with the way he was holding her and gazing at her.
"I am famished," she blurted out.
He didn't say anything right away; he just continued to stare at her.
Then he said, "I'll go heat you up some soup."
She shook her head. "I'm tired of soup. I'm ready for real food." As if on cue, her stomach began to growl.
He was still staring at her. He slowly raised one arm up, while continuing to hold her tightly with the other arm, and placed the back of his hand on her forehead. He smiled, looking pleased with himself. "Your fever is finally gone. What do you want to eat?"
She shrugged. "I-I don't know."
He smiled at her again and pulled her closer. "Well, that's a first."
Then they fell into silence again. She realized his hand was still on her face, now caressing it so softly. Her pulse quickened. She knew she should have moved away, especially when his face crept closer to hers, but she couldn't find the power to move. He placed a kiss as soft as a feather on her lips.