Adrian’s forehead creased and he closed his eyes for a moment.
“Adrian, please don’t say anything to anyone about Bo.” I was walking the fine line between self-preservation and revealing too much.
“Is there anything to tell?” Adrian studied my face, imploring the truth from me.
His question sent chills through my body and froze my face. I opened my mouth to speak, but Adrian put up his hand.
“Never mind, I don’t think I want to know. I’d never say anything, Ember. I respect you . . . and your decisions.” He seemed sad. “Just be careful, OK?” His eyes darkened as he put a firm hand on my knee.
“Thanks, Adrian.”
I felt a little weird talking about this with him, especially since we hadn’t properly and soberly addressed what we’d talked about on the beach. My face paled at yet another piece of last night’s puzzle. Adrian talked a lot about his feelings for me in the past, but hadn’t suggested that they were any different in the present.
“You OK?” Adrian asked.
“I need to check on Monica,” I lied. I didn’t want to rehash his feelings for me or further discuss my budding romance with his coworker.
I quickly texted Monica:
Me: Morning. You ok? Did you hear we got the day off due to “food poisoning” courtesy of Bo?
Monica: Hey, I probably feel better than you do, Hot-Mess-Express. So grateful for food poisoning right now. I’ll come over later . . .when I decide to move.
Me: Adrian stayed here last night. NOTHING happened. Don’t call, I’ll call you. I just needed to get that out there.
Monica: You’re lucky outside noises still hurt my head this morning or I’d ignore your request to not call. Literally dying waiting for your call.
I put down my phone, took a huge breath, and returned my attention to Adrian.
“Ooooh,” Adrian said in a revelatory tone, leaning back against the couch.
“What?” I narrowed my eyebrows.
“That’s why you so easily suggested that Cavanaugh take you home last night. There’s already something going on between the two of you, isn’t there?” It was like he was working out a math problem in his head and didn’t like the answer.
I chuckled for a split second, until I blanched under my own revelation.
“Nooo,” I sounded like I was speaking to a toddler, “that’s why you insisted on taking me home.” My volume rose as I stood up in front of Adrian. “You already knew, didn’t you, Adrian, because I called him Bo in front of you and you told me you noticed a certain “look” on his face when he talked about me.” My eyes were wide with anger.
Adrian glanced to the floor before standing. His eyes finally met mine.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” My voice burned with fury.
My heart raced as I realized how misplaced my anger at Bo was last night. Not only was he truly trying to respect me, but both of us were manipulated by Adrian. Smug was a kind adjective compared to the ones going through my head at that moment. Betrayal is not something I take lightly. I stormed by Adrian, crudely opened the door and stood next to it with my arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
I couldn’t even begin to rationalize the reasons Adrian would splinter himself between me and Bo. Did he want me back? If so, why, and did I even care? Either way, I was so upset I couldn’t talk to him about it, not yet.
“Ember, come on.” That was all he could manage as he walked toward me.
“Don’t say anything about me and Bo to anyone, OK?” My tone was only a hair below a yell.
“I won’t. I’m sorry. Please be careful, Ember.” His voice sounded sincere again.
“Well, Bo hasn’t manipulated me lately, has he?” I arched one hell of an eyebrow.
“No, I guess you’re right, he hasn’t. But, you don’t know him well.”
“And you do?” I snipped.
Adrian shrugged unconvincingly, let out a sigh, and brushed my cheek softly before I turned away.
“Adrian-”
“Ember, look, I’m here until tomorrow. I want to try to get together again - just the two of us. There are still some things-”
“I’ll see you later, Adrian. I’m too angry to talk about this right now, but we will be talking about it.” I opened the door wider as I interrupted him, solidifying my stance in anger.
He turned and walked uneventfully out the door and down the stairs. When I heard his car drive away, I collapsed on the couch in tears. I had shared some sweet moments with Adrian last night only to find out he manipulated the whole situation, and for what? Adrian didn’t even make a move last night - maybe he felt guilty; he damn well better.
I called Monica and told her everything. She wanted to come over, but I needed some time alone. When I heard a knock on my door, I hung up the phone and angrily walked to answer it, preparing for round two with Master Manipulator.
I threw the door open rather ungracefully, and found Bo standing there, hands in his pockets and his head hanging slightly; he looked thoroughly tortured. I burst into tears at the sight of him, threw my arms around his neck, and sobbed heavily into his shirt.
“Ember, what happened? Are you OK?” He took a slow step into the apartment; my arms still around his neck, his arms around my body.
He gently unwrapped my arms from his neck, took my hand, and led me to my couch. When we sat, I placed my head back on his shoulder and continued to sob irrepressibly. Bo rubbed my shoulders silently, before he sat me up.
“Did Adrian do something to you?” His chilling look ceased my tears.
“N-no, not like that,” I managed to spit out, though my breathing was erratic from crying. Bo looked confused.
I told Bo about Adrian helping me up the stairs, rolling my eyes at the embarrassment all over again. I sheepishly admitted that I tried to kiss him in my drunken haze, but he rebuffed my offer and slept on top of the blankets with his clothes on. Finally, I took a deep breath before telling him about Adrian’s motivations for taking me home last night; that I understood only seconds before I kicked him out of my apartment. When I finished I just stared at Bo, awaiting his reaction. After a thoughtful pause, Bo’s forehead smoothed as he released a sly grin.
“Cunning son of a bitch, isn’t he?” He let out a muffled laugh.
“What?”
“Not only did he manipulate the situation in his favor so he could take you home last night, but he didn’t even try anything with you. Man, had you not figured out what his game was, he could have walked out of here looking like a knight.” Bo lifted his eyebrows in mock-awe.
“Bo, I was mortified when I woke up next to Adrian this morning. I was so angry at you last night for just letting me go with him, even though I knew you really had no choice. But when I put his whole puzzle together, I felt awful. I wanted to wake up next to you this morning.” I stared down at my hands, my eyes refilling with tears.
“Bo, I feel scuzzy and need to shower last night off of my body. Will you wait for me?”
“Of course.” His gaze reignited me and I wanted him right there. I pressed my lips hard into his mouth before heading to the shower.
The shower is undoubtedly the best place to think; the hot running water drowns out all the background noise from the brain. The haze of my hangover was beginning to wash away and I could finally assess my feelings in private. While my stroll down memory lane with Adrian was nice, it was also clouded by misinformation and underhanded motives. Adrian admitted that he panicked when Bo mentioned me; it sure seemed his motivations last night were guided by someone trekking on what he’d assumed was still his territory. Meanwhile, this beautiful man was waiting for me in my apartment and I wanted to be his, all his.
Suddenly, it didn’t feel like a choice between anything. No, it wasn’t a choice between the logical and the romantic, and it wasn’t a choice between my head and my heart. It was a choice for my spirit; for all the things that make me . . .me. I loved Bo Cavanaugh. I realized I needed to tell my boss about my rel
ationship with Bo - before the Concord trip.
I was, therefore, choosing Bo. Choosing Bo and me. Choosing us. My soul smiled and hugged me. Thank you.
I turned off the shower, briskly dried my hair, and walked into my bedroom with a towel wrapped around me, startled to find Bo sitting on my bed still looking a bit conflicted.
“Better?” He asked.
“So much,” I replied. “You ok?” I sat next to him, towel still wrapped around me.
“I have a confession to make.” He grinded his palms on the tops of his thighs.
“OK?” My heart rate rose slightly as Adrian’s words of caution bubbled to the surface of my brain.
“Wait. Can I ask you something first?” I continued, not waiting for a reply, “What did you do last night after Adrian took me and Monica home?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I saw you walk back in to the bar. And, now, you’re wearing the same clothes,” I said, passively grabbing his shirtsleeve.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” His tone was level, if not slightly calculating.
A million possibilities flew through my mind. Actually, only one did; maybe he went home with someone else. If he did, would I be mad? Would I have a right to be mad? We’ve never seriously discussed a relationship between the two of us, as such. No, you’ve only talked about a thousand lifetimes and shocking me to life.
“Last night, after you left, I did go back into the bar; but that was only to prevent myself from chasing after you like a fool.” He smirked to himself.
“As soon as I saw Turner’s car pull away, I drove to your place. I was going to wait for him to leave and then come see if you were OK. You must have called me when you were at Monica’s place, because I was in front of your apartment and you weren’t there.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he held up his hand. “I waited in the lot across the street to make sure he brought you home, as he said he would. Yea, I felt a bit like a stalker, but he’s fast with women - that much I do know - and I was worried about you. When you got to your place and I saw you stumble again, I nearly jumped out of my car. But, I saw that he was being kind to you, and I just wanted him to get you inside and then leave. He didn’t leave. I waited . . . and waited . . . and waited . . .” Bo drew this out for affect, his voice constricting around the words. He looked up at me, apparently awaiting a reaction. It finally dawned on me.
“You were out there all night . . .” I whispered.
“I knew how drunk you were. I didn’t know if he’d . . .” Bo looked out the window, unable to verbalize his fears.
“That’s how you arrived just after Adrian left, impeccable timing.” I smiled.
“You’re not mad?” His brow creased.
“Mad?! Bo, that’s fucking romantic. How did Adrian look when he left this morning?” I wanted to know if my brutal rebuffing of him had any visual effect.
“Completely deflated.” A boyish grin took over his face.
Jackpot.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I grabbed Bo’s face and pulled him down for the most healing, soul reviving kiss I had in me. He responded by pinning me on the bed, one arm still hooked around my waist. I fisted his hair, eliciting a moan from his throat as he released his arm from under me and ran his hands roughly through my wet hair. I grabbed him through his jeans causing him to hiss in anticipation. I started undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one; Bo sat up and pulled the shirt off over his head. His eyes were smoldering.
Without saying a word, Bo opened my towel and pulled it out from under me, tossing it - and last night - to the floor. His hand sculpted over every curve of my body; I was his. I deftly undid his belt and pants with seduction playing across my lips, silently begging him for more. He kicked his jeans to the floor as my hips grinded against him.
“Mmm,” he moaned in to my neck, assaulting it with delicious kisses.
I rolled over and sat astride him, planting my lips on his earlobe and tracing them down his body to his navel. In one quick movement, I was suddenly underneath him once more. I squealed like a child about to open birthday presents. I grabbed him and reached for a condom from my bedside stand.
“No,” he flashed a wicked grin, “this one’s on me.” He pulled a condom from his pants pocket on the floor.
He slowly and deliberately rolled the condom on; an anticipatory moan escaped me as I watched him. Gently, he parted my knees and positioned himself between them. I was breathless as his hands stalked up the sides of my body on the mattress. It was all I could do not to beg him to enter me; thankfully I didn’t have to wait. He sank slowly and beautifully into me as we let out simultaneous sighs of relief. I couldn’t justify why we’d only done this once before.
Our rhythms quickly synched, and I was meeting him every step of the way. He slowed down for a moment, pulling back slightly to look at me. My forehead crinkled inquisitively.
“You are so damn beautiful.” He shook his head as if he was trying to rationalize it.
“You’re so beautiful,” I replied, pushing my hips further into him, grabbing his head and leading him back to my mouth.
Being with Bo was like throwing myself into the ocean; invigorating and breathtaking. The swell of my orgasm built like a tidal wave, and I dug my fingers in to his back; he quickened his pace in response. We climaxed nearly in unison, our bodies keeping the beat of our love song.
When our breathing returned to normal, Bo lifted my chin. “ I wanted to tell you something the other night . . . but you fell asleep.” He looked nervous.
“Anything.” I shifted through my lashes to focus on his face.
Bo pressed his lips against my forehead.
“I love you too.”
Chapter Fifteen
My face flushed and my eyes filled with fresh tears as Bo kissed my lips and spoke again.
“I love you, November Blue Harris,” he breathed in to my ear.
“I love you, too, Bowan.” A single tear glided down my cheek in blissful ecstasy.
“You mean you don’t want to call me Spencer?” He teased.
“Not if I don’t have to,” I grumbled, thinking of work. Call your boss. “Hey, you said I fell asleep the other night when you wanted to tell me - but you were already asleep when-”
“When you told me?” Endearment eddied in his eyes.
“You heard me?”
Bo shrugged, “I wasn’t asleep.” He flashed the most all-American smile I’d ever seen. “I wanted to tell you the second I woke up, but you were gone. When I saw you on that beach playing the guitar, Ember, it was as if my world had stopped. I loved you more in that moment than I even had the night before. I was in awe. You rendered me speechless and I wondered all day if I could find a word better than love to express my feelings for you. I couldn’t. The word is so simple, so beautiful, but so complex - so you.”
Do people really say things like this? I need a fainting couch.
“You’re unbelievable in the most brilliant way.” I kissed the dimple left exposed by his lingering grin.
I sat in awe, once again, at his beauty. He was physically flawless – the kind of perfection you only find in books; but also kind, gentle, talented, sweet, caring, and protective. He survived his parents’ death and took care of his sick sister as she battled drug addiction, ultimately leading him to my office door. The thought of how we met drained the color from my face and my mouth frowned in thought.
“What is it?” Bo sat up.
“I’ve got to call my boss. I don’t feel right continuing this without letting her know. It’s the right thing to do.” I took a deep breath and got out of bed to put clothes on.
As I walked out to the living room to get my cell phone, Bo hollered down the hall, “Always in your head, Harris!”
“Ha! Not since I met you, Cavanaugh.”
A newfound feeling of freedom came from choosing happiness, wrapped in Bo Cavanaugh and his friggen guitar; a feeling I wanted to car
ry with me for a long time. I took a deep breath and dialed my boss’s number.
“November? I’m surprised to hear from you, are you feeling OK?” Carrie’s concern sounded genuine. Thank you for food poisoning, Bo.
“I’m feeling a little better, just really dehydrated at this point. Thank you for understanding. We all had the fish last night,” I lied.
“Glad to hear it, we’ll need you ladies healthy for Concord on Monday.” Right, that.
“Carrie, that’s sort of why I called . . .”
“What is it?” Carrie’s tone was suddenly anxious.
“Bo- er- Spencer Cavanaugh and I actually met the Friday before he came in to our office for the meeting with all of us. Monica and I saw him performing at Finnegan’s; he uses his middle name, Bowan, or Bo, except for business when he uses his birth name, Spencer.” Words emptied from my mouth with barely enough grace to sound like an adult. Bo entered my living room and sat on the couch next to me.
“Well, that would certainly explain the awkward tension I felt between the three of you on Monday,” Carrie laughed. “It’s no big deal, kind of funny actually.”
“Yeah,” I drew out for effect, “see, we spent a lot of time together that weekend, because we really hit it off on Friday night. We were so involved with talking about music and our families, we never talked about work. I-”
“You like him?” Carrie cut off, her tone still light.
“Yes. Very much. I tried to keep everything separate and private this week. I was hoping to wait until we decided if we were going to partner with DROP. You know, why make an issue when there doesn’t need to be?” My face was an inferno of embarrassment and nerves.
Bo laughed to himself as he patted my leg. Glad you find this amusing.
“November, it’s fine,” Carrie reassured, eliciting an exaggerated sigh on my part. “I appreciate your disclosure; it shows real maturity on your part. I suppose since Spencer, Bo, whoever,” she chuckled before continuing, “runs DROP, his personnel staff doesn’t have an issue with the relationship, and neither do I.”
Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue) Page 14