Me: I really do miss you
I hit send and immediately jumped at a beeping noise at the top of the stairs. What the hell?
As I rounded the corner I gasped at Bo sitting on the top step, just outside my door, elbows planted firmly on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. Sitting on that ‘Welcome’ mat under which my resolve hides, I see.
“What are you doing here?” I could barely contain the ridiculous smile crossing my lips.
“I told you I wished I could see you.” He shrugged, cocked his head to the side and drew a slow smile.
“Well, you made good time, weirdo stalker.” I was quite aware of the roughly 2.5 hour drive time from Concord to Barnstable. I sat next to him on the stairs and leaned my shoulder on his. I was emotionally drained, in all ways good and bad. Bo curled his arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head as he drew me in.
“You smell good,” I whispered as I turned my face toward his neck, kissing it softly.
“Mmm, you do too.” He buried his nose in my hair. “Come take a walk with me?”
“A walk? It’s nearly midnight.”
“We’ll drive down to the beach. The moon is huge. Please?” He stood and held his hand out to me.
Oh, what the hell.
* * *
I was thankful for the unseasonably warm weather as we strolled down the moonlit beach, hand in hand. Bo didn’t speak during our five minute drive, and I didn’t interrupt the silence. The past twenty-four hours were weighing heavy on me.
“Sorry, again, about today. It was all so much - Josh and Monica, my parents last night . . .” I shook my head and gazed at the heaving sea.
“November, stop apologizing. We’ve had a lot thrown at us from all different directions. How was the time with your parents?” His sincerity was palpable.
I wondered if I would smell the sorrow if I didn’t know his parents were dead. I stopped where I was and folded down to the sand, begging my tears to stay at bay. I hadn’t had a lot of time to process what my parents and I had spoken about the night before. Reckless abandon. Raven’s words echoed through my body as I remembered that I need to commit with my heart or my mind.
“They were all raised eyebrows, mouths open; they saw the open guitar case and asked what was going on.”
“What’d you tell them?” Bo sat next to me and gave me a little nudge.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“Um…”
Don’t cry!
“November,” he lifted my chin with his index finger and turned my face toward his, “what is it?” The pure light from the moon flooded his eyes with concern.
Don’t cry.
Too late.
As soon as I blinked, tears spilled messily down my face. I didn’t try to wipe them away, and I didn’t break my gaze from his. Bo’s forehead creased momentarily as he watched the tears - filled with so many things I wanted to tell him - fall to the sand. He didn’t look away as he brushed the salty confusion from one of my cheeks with his thumb.
“Ember. . .”
“Bo, it’s just . . .” I wiped my eyes, finally, and turned my face back to the ocean. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone. Not just physically either. You’ve burrowed yourself deep in my soul. All the evidence my parents needed was the guitar I’ve never really played, just sitting causally in my living room. You’ve sparked something in me . . .” Out of the corner of my eye I saw him half-smile.
“You’re crying because of how you feel about me?” He kept the grin as he tried to understand.
“It’s not about you, it’s about me. I am not the person that fantasizes about running away with hot, guitar-playing man-gods.” I was able to force a laugh through my tears, “There’s this part of me that’s longed for you for so long, and when you showed up it was like an ice-cold shower shocking me to life. I like structure, predictability, an unbroken heart . . .” I shot a glance in his direction and he seemed to cringe at ‘an unbroken heart’.
Bo moved to a kneeling position in front of me, commanding my attention.
“November, if your heart was mine it would never break.” His hands tightened around mine as he spoke the sweetest words my ears had ever hosted.
“Even in a thousand lifetimes?”
Shit! I dropped Bo’s hands, flew to a standing position as he flinched, again, against my words, and I walked away. I was embarrassed that I let that slip out, and suddenly felt angry that he would tell Josh, and not me. When you feel that strongly about someone, you tell them.
“Josh . . .” he half whispered to the now vacant place I had previously occupied. He stood up and briskly followed my pace down the beach.
“Ember, I shouldn’t have said anything to anyone.” He wisely stayed slightly behind me, seemingly trying to judge my level of anger.
“A thousand lifetimes, Bo!? You feel like you’ve known me for a thousand freaking lifetimes? That’s a bit intense, don’t you think?” I didn’t slow my pace.
“You just told me that I shocked your soul to life and you’re accusing me of intensity of emotion?” His firmness road-blocked me.
“But I told you, Bowan. You told Josh, and he used it as an excuse to break up with my best friend!” Bo stared out at the ocean unapologetically.
“Ember, I’m really sorry about what happened with your friends. I’m sorry that Josh freaked after we talked. Look at me - that has nothing to do with us.” He grabbed my shoulders, forcing my eyes on his. “I have never felt this way about anyone in my entire life. And the other night, at your place, when we-”
“Had sex?” I interrupted.
“That’s not the phrase I would use, but, yea. That was the single-most mind, soul, and earth shattering experience of my life.” His eyes searched mine in a panic.
“Bo, I haven’t ever felt this way about anyone either, and it scares me.” I looked just past him to avoid being consumed by the intensity of his now nearly black eyes.
“Even about Adrian?” He dropped his hands from my shoulders and backed up a step to gage my reaction.
“Excuse me?” My brow furrowed in sardonic consternation. “You’re seriously bringing up Adrian fucking Turner? I told you it was ancient hist- wait . . . Did you see him today when you went back to Concord?”
The question suspended in the space between our bodies.
“He is a member of our legal team and was briefed on today’s meeting.” Oh, that’s it? You’re going to leave it at that?
“You couldn’t have briefed him over the phone?”
It occurred to me that my reaction to Adrian’s name during the meeting did not sit as well with Bo as he had led me to believe. It appeared Mr. Y-chromosome drove 2.5 hours to size up my ex-boyfriend with fresh eyes.
“Wait a minute, Bo, you didn’t tell him . . .”
“I didn’t tell Turner about us. I needed to sign some contracts for some other things, and I told him the meeting went well. I told him that you and Monica both spoke fondly of his abilities, and that the two of you would be arriving with your boss early next week.” Oh shit.
“Hm.” Ember, get a damn grip. Hm?
“He seemed quite pleased about you ladies coming to Concord.” Bo’s face fell, as if he was trying to work out the history between Adrian and me.
“Look,” I took a deep breath at the realization that this night was not going as envisioned. “I know that you said I didn’t owe you an explanation about Adrian-”
“You don’t.”
“Bo, just shut up and sit down for a minute,” I instructed as delicately as possible.
I told Bo about my relationship with Adrian, and that we intended it to be mainly sexual; no strings attached. Bo looked up at me rather sympathetically when I shrugged and told him that when I thought I wanted more, and he wasn’t ready for that, we called it a day - no hard feelings.
That was the Disney version of our break-up, it was all Bo needed. The only thing lacking resolution at this point, I told him, w
as me giving him a piece of my mind for this business deal.
“Ha, well, I’d like to be there for that, if you don’t mind.” Bo’s ego seemed intact, and his disposition relaxed at the thought of me verbally assaulting Adrian. “He’s a smug bastard, but he’s damn good at what he does,” Bo lauded.
“Yea, I was afraid of that.” With an eye roll I checked my phone and saw it was approaching 1:00am. “Can we get going? It’s late.”
“Of course, let’s go.” He grabbed my hand as we headed back down the beach to his car.
When we reached the parking lot, a truck drove past, startling me away from the enchantment of the ocean with a jump. My hair stood on end and I reflexively tightened my grip on Bo’s hand as a very familiar pickup truck drove into the distance.
“What?” Bo returned my tight grip.
“Nothing, can we go please?” My heart was in my throat. I knew there were a lot of trucks in the world, but not a lot of rusty blue ones that held Bill and Max over a week ago. Shit, you didn’t even forget their names.
Bo’s eyes darted around, and he ran his hands fiercely through his hair as he got in his car and shut the door. My heart raced the entire way back to the safety of my apartment. And, like the drive to the beach, on the way to my place we didn’t say a word.
When we got to my door, I fumbled with my keys, dropping them on the floor. Bo swept them up gracefully and opened my door. He came in behind me and I took a concentrated breath before facing him.
“Thank you for driving me home.” I smiled while grabbing his hand.
“You’re shaking, Ember, are you really OK? What the hell happened?” He led me to the couch.
“Nothing. It’s just . . . remember the night we first met, when Monica said I saw someone get beat up?” I can’t believe you’re about to tell him this nothing of a story.
“I remember.” His eyes widened slightly as he furrowed his brow.
“Well, aside from the fight, I did see the truck that two of the guys were driving.” I paused to study his reaction. He didn’t seem to have one; he was waiting for more.
“It looked exactly like that truck that drove past us in the parking lot tonight, that’s all. It startled me. I know, it’s silly.”
I bit my lower lip and shook my head.
“Ember, if you were scared you should have told me.” He ran his thumb across my chin, but seemed anxious. “You said two of the guys. There were more?” he pressed.
“Yea, one more. He left after the rest of them. . .” I trailed off not wanting to recall the event.
Bo studied me carefully, as if I was a bomb ready to explode. He didn’t look convinced by my story as his eyes flashed with what looked like fear.
“I’ve had a really friggen intense week, here.” I held my hands up and darted my eyes around the room for affect.
“Hey, I get it. It’s OK.” He took a tense deep breath before continuing, “Let me help you take your mind off of it.” His own words relaxed his face.
Yes, please.
Bo parted my knees with his, and leaned into me, relaxing me back on the couch. I clasped my hands tightly around his neck; forcing his tongue into my mouth as he moaned. I poured all of my frustrations, anxieties, and passion into that kiss. I’ll show you a thousand lifetimes. I roughed his leather jacket over his shoulders, and he tossed it on the floor as I kicked off my shoes.
I could barely breathe in response to his touch. I didn’t want to think about words.
He pulled away, searching through me with his eyes, as only he could do. He scooped me into his arms and carried me to my bedroom.
“This is a little dramatic, don’t you think?” I rolled my eyes at this superfluous gesture, but secretly I loved feeling so feminine.
“Just let go a little Ember,” he said in complete seriousness.
“Let go? Right, because it’s so starch-collared to bust out my old guitar, sleep with a man two days after meeting him, and consider dropping everything to run away with him. I really must learn to let my hair down.” I giggled as Bo laughed loudly, setting me on my bed.
“I just mean you’ve got to get out of here,” he said as he tapped my temple.
“Just feel, for once. Don’t think. Feel.” He pressed against me.
“Like this?” I playfully grabbed him through his jeans.
“Ember,” he stifled a laugh, “I’m serious, turn the rest of it off.”
He moved my hand to his neck as he slid me up the bed. A quick moan escaped my throat before I thought about it.
“See? Feeling is good. Thinking . . . thinking is bad.” The corner of his mouth twitched in to a wicked grin before he focused his lips elsewhere.
Bo’s lips moved like they were sketching me into his long-term memory. Chills waltzed across my skin against his touch. Just feel. His words echoed through my body as I shifted underneath him, reaching for his shirt. Bo waited until both of his arms were out of his shirt - kissing me the whole time - before he paused to tug it over his head. I sat up to remove my tank and bra. When they were gone, he pressed back into me, the warmth of his hard, bare chest captured my innermost desires.
I reached for the button on his jeans, but once again his hand stopped me. He brought my hand above my head and planted urgent kisses down my arm and torso before stopping at my waistband. He popped the button on my jeans with his teeth, eliciting a gasp as my response. He removed his hand from mine and slid my jeans and panties down with care. As he stood on the floor at the foot of my bed, he dropped his jeans, sank to his hands and knees on my mattress, and crawled predator-like back between my legs.
His lips started at my belly button this time, and I sensed their final destination. Immediately, my hips started to shift, anticipating his arrival. As his mouth reached my inner thigh I grabbed his hair. He continued his oral exploration as I eagerly felt all he had to offer.
“Bo . . .” I needed more. More feeling.
Sensing my impatience, he quirked the hottest grin I’d ever seen as he kissed his way back to my mouth. Inexplicably, his pace slowed and he rested his forehead on my naked chest.
“I love this,” he sighed into my neck. “Just, this . . .you.” Did he just insinuate that he loves me?
“Hey,” I sighed in to the top of his head. When his Atlantic eyes met mine beneath his soft eyebrows, it was all I could do to keep myself from coming apart underneath him.
I pushed a little on his shoulders, forcing him to roll over. I parted his legs and sat between them on my knees. I sat back on my heels and stared for a minute at his flawlessly gorgeous body. It wasn’t just gorgeous for what I could see on the outside; but gorgeous for what I knew burned beneath the surface.
“What?” He smiled as he crossed his hands behind his head, elbows out.
The minute his lips moved, my intentions shifted and my shoulders sank at the feelings I had for this man who lay before me. I loved him, and as my smile of seduction morphed to one of love, my soul nodded. I told you so.
“What?” He repeated, now sitting up on his elbows, his head cocked to the side.
“Nothing.” I crawled overtop his body and placed my hands on either side of his shoulders.
Still, I stared. My mind just agreed with my heart for the first time in as long as I could remember, and I had no map for this course. I love Bo Cavanaugh. I didn’t push the thought down; I just let the feeling run through me like the waterfall love is intended to be: loud, dangerous, and beautiful. Bo broke my soak in the pool of adoration with his deepest kiss yet. They just keep getting better.
After a few minutes of our lips dancing to longing, desire, and unspoken love, I rolled off of him and onto my bed. He placed his arm around me and I snuggled into his chest, breathing him in. His chin rested on top of my head as I listened to him fall asleep; the rise and fall of his chest deepening, slowing.
With sleep gaining its footing over my body and mind, I pressed my lips into his neck. As I pulled my lips away, I whispered softly to his sl
eeping body, “I love you.”
Chapter Eleven
Waves danced gloriously over my feet as I strummed my guitar at sunrise. Seagulls echoed my fret squeaks as the ocean breeze carried the melody across its white caps. The song was as familiar to my fingers as it was my ears; it was one my parents played when I was a child, and it was the only song I knew by heart.
Throughout the night, Bo’s hands slid up and down over the curves of my spine. I was momentarily jealous of his guitar as I pressed back into his tight hands. I woke early in his arms, both of us still naked from the night before. I slid out of bed and put on my cropped jeans and Princeton sweatshirt. I left a note on my pillow:
Heading to the beach to catch the sunrise.
You looked peaceful- didn’t want to wake you. Be back soon.
If my mom could have seen me on that beach, I’m sure she’d call in a priestess of some
sort to marry us on the spot. I’m not a ‘guitar-playing on the beach at sunrise’ kind of girl; not until Bo Cavanaugh waltzed in and made quick work of rearranging any notions I had about what I thought I wanted and needed out of this life.
When I finished the song for the third time, thoroughly satisfied that I had expressed all I needed to at that moment, I stood to head back home and get ready for work. I dusted myself off and turned around; my heart fluttered at the sight of him. Bo stood against the weathered split-rail fence that separated the beach from the parking lot, arms and ankles crossed. My pulse quickened as I neared him. His face wore a sleepy grin.
“Good morning.”
“How long have you been standing here?” I asked, my gut teetering on the razor’s edge between desire and embarrassment.
He reached behind him and handed me my case.
“Long enough to realize you’re a complete liar,” he chuckled. “You can really play, November.”
“Now you’re the liar, Bowan. Besides, that’s just a song I learned when I was basically an infant. It’s the only thing I can play.” But it did sound really damn good.
“I’ve got news for you, Beautiful. That might be the only thing you’ve memorized, but if your fingers can do that, you know how to play.” He put his hands on my shoulders to emphasize the point.
Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue) Page 10