Needing Her

by Allie Everhart

“Pearce, it’s your mother.”

  “Hello, Mother. Do you need something?”

  She never calls unless she needs something.

  “Yes. I need you to accompany me to a dinner party. It’s not until the middle of October but I wanted to give you adequate notice.”

  “By then, Father will likely be back in town. He can attend the dinner with you.”

  “Possibly, but the dinner is on a Thursday and when I spoke with your father earlier, it sounded like he wouldn’t be home until the following Saturday so I need to make alternate plans.”

  “I don’t know if I can attend the dinner, Mother. I’ll have to check my schedule.” I despise these formal dinners. They last all night, and if my mother is attending, I’m guessing everyone there will be her age or older.

  “Whatever else in on your schedule will have to be canceled. You’re going to this dinner, Pearce. I can’t show up without an escort, and since your father is out of town, you need to take his place.”

  “Where is the dinner?”

  “At the Seymour residence. It’s formal attire of course and dinner begins promptly at seven. But we’ll need to arrive at 6:30 for cocktails. I’ll call you next week to discuss the details.”

  “Mother, wait. Who else will be at the dinner?”

  She sighs. “Pearce, I didn’t memorize the seating chart. I need to go. We’ll talk later. Goodbye.”

  She hangs up. It’s just like I said. I’m never given a choice. I’m always being told what to do and when to do it. And I hate it, but it’s all I know so I usually don’t question it. But now, this dinner means I have one less night with Rachel, and since my nights with her are limited, I don’t want to give one up to spend with my mother and the Seymours.

  I don’t care for the Seymours. Leland Seymour has always made me uncomfortable. He says things that always come out sounding like a threat. He’s a member of Dunamis and owns MDX Aerodynamics, a large, international corporation that does a lot of work with the military. The Seymour family is extremely wealthy and they love letting people know it. They flaunt their wealth to the point of being obnoxious. They have two teenage daughters, Katherine and Caroline. Katherine’s had a crush on me since she was 12. Now she’s 15 and flirts with me whenever she sees me. She’s just a child, but for some reason, she thinks I would date her. So not only will I have to deal with my mother and Leland Seymour, I’ll also have to deal with Katherine.

  There goes my good mood. All it takes is one quick call from my mother to shift my night from good to bad.

  “Hey.” I turn and see Rachel behind me. She’s smiling. She has such a beautiful smile. Just seeing that smile shifts my mood back to good.

  “You shouldn’t be in here,” I say, circling my arms around her waist.

  “In your bedroom?” Her hands wrap behind my neck, her fingers moving gently through my hair. “Why?”

  “Because you wanted to slow things down between us. And that will be very difficult to do if we stay in this room.”

  “We stayed in here last night.”

  “Yes. And it was very difficult.”

  She reaches up and kisses me softly on the lips, then backs away. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not pressuring me. I know you want to move this along, and I do too, but I want us to spend more time together first.”

  “I understand. But for now, let’s spend time together in a different room.”

  She laughs. She has such a great laugh. It’s light and happy and full of energy.

  “I dished up some ice cream.” She takes my hand and leads me to the tall stools that line the kitchen island. Two bowls of ice cream are sitting there. “I bought chocolate chip so you could try a new flavor. And there’s a whole half gallon in the freezer so you can have some every night for the rest of the week.”

  She sits next to me, waiting for me to try it. I taste it. “It’s very good.”

  It’s odd to be eating ice cream. My parents would be embarrassed if they saw me eating such a childish dessert. My father probably hasn’t had ice cream since he was a toddler. I was 10 the last time I had it and that was only because I begged my mother to let me have it one last time for my tenth birthday. My father forbid it, saying I was too old, but my mother snuck me a small bowl of it up in my room that night after my father had gone to sleep.

  I set my spoon down. “So what are your plans this week?”

  “The usual. Work and school.” She smiles. “And hopefully, my handsome boyfriend will come visit me.” She takes a bite of ice cream.

  “And what if he came over every night this week?” I take the spoon from her hand and place it back in her bowl.

  “Hmm. That’s a lot of nights. And it’s getting harder and harder to be around you without—”

  I kiss her before she can finish. “Which is why we need to spend time together. You’ll never get to know me if we’re always apart. So what do you say? You won’t have to cook. I’ll bring dinner every night.”

  She mulls it over. “I like the idea, but I won’t get any studying done if you’re there.”

  “And why is that?” I bring her face to mine and kiss her. “I promise not to bother you.” I kiss her cheek, then over to her ear. “I’ll sit quietly on the couch.”

  She shivers at the feel of my breath. “If you’re there, I’ll want to join you on the couch.”

  I kiss her neck. “Then join me on the couch. You can sit next to me and study.”

  She closes her eyes, tilting her head and exposing more of her neck for me to kiss. “I guarantee I won’t be able to study if you do this when you’re at my apartment.”

  “Let’s try it and see.” I stand up and lift her off the stool.

  “What are you doing?”

  I carry her to the couch and set her down, then hand her one of my business books from the side table. “Go ahead. Pretend it’s one of your textbooks.”

  She laughs. “Okay.” She opens the book and starts reading.

  I sit next to her, sweeping her hair aside and gently kissing her neck. Her body relaxes into the couch and her eyes fall shut.

  “Yeah, this isn’t going to work,” she says, as the book drops to the floor.

  I pick her legs up, setting them on the couch as she lies back. I lie over her and kiss her, this time on her lips. “I’m still coming over.”

  She pulls me closer and whispers, “I didn’t invite you.”

  “I’m coming over anyway.” My hand moves down her side, resting on her hip.

  Before she can speak, I kiss her again, my tongue slipping past her parted lips. I’ve never kissed a woman as much as I’ve kissed Rachel. It’s far too intimate for me. I always avoid kissing and move straight to the sex. But it’s different with Rachel, and not just because sex isn’t an option right now. It’s different because I actually want to kiss her. In fact, whenever she’s around me, I can’t seem to stop kissing her. But I have to force myself to stop, because kissing her leads to wanting to do more with her, and she’s not ready yet. I hope she’s ready soon because it’s killing me to wait.

  Over the next couple weeks, I go to Rachel’s apartment every night after work or she comes to my loft. We have dinner, then talk or watch TV or she studies while I catch up on whatever I didn’t get done at the office. We’re getting into a routine and I like it. It makes me feel like I have a normal life. I know I don’t, but for now, I’m pretending I do. My father is thousands of miles away and I haven’t heard anything from the organization or Jack. I’ve been checking in with my mother, but other than that, I haven’t talked to anyone from that part of my life. It’s like I’ve left that life behind, at least for the time being.

  It’s now October and Rachel and I are spending the weekend at my loft. Friday night I order in a gourmet meal. The weather’s getting colder, so I get the fireplace going. Rachel loves sitting in front of the fire, so we stay there all day Saturday, lying on the couch and watching movies. I’ve never watched
so many movies in my entire life. I rarely even watch TV. But Rachel loves movies so I watch them with her, or I just sit and watch her as she reacts to the various scenes, sometimes smiling, sometimes tearing up, sometimes laughing. I love how she’s able to put her emotions out there like that. I could never do that.

  As I watch her, I realize that my feelings for her just keep getting deeper. It concerns me, but also makes me happy. It’s nice to feel something for once in my life, especially something as good as this.

  On Sunday night, it’s cold and rainy outside and Rachel and I are snuggled up on the couch. I start kissing her and touching her, like I always do. I’ve learned what she likes and I love pleasing her. But I’d also love to go back to having sex with her.

  She softly moans as we kiss. The sound, and the way she feels, has me turned on to the point that I can’t hide it. I’m pressed into her and I know she feels me but I can’t do anything about it. This happens whenever I kiss her. I normally don’t react this way to a kiss, but I do with Rachel. And I don’t care if she knows it. But I don’t want her assuming my reaction is a sign that I’m pressuring her to go farther.

  I lift up a little. “Maybe we should stop.”

  “Yeah.” She nods, as she catches her breath.

  I move off her and she sits up.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes on the floor.

  I put my arm around her. “Sorry about what?”

  “For not continuing this. In the bedroom. I want to. I really do. It’s just that…”

  I turn her toward me. “It’s just what?”

  “It’s just that there are things you don’t know about me and I’m sure there are things I don’t know about you and—”

  “Rachel, I understand. You don’t have to explain.”

  She looks down at the couch. “I do have to explain. I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Something happened to me that I don’t like to talk about, but it affected me so much that I feel like you’ll never really know me until you know this. I’m just not sure I want to tell you.”

  “Why?” I gently lift her chin up so I can see her face.

  “Because it might change things. Plus, we’re still early into our relationship and this is something we wouldn’t worry about until way off into the future, but not telling you now seems…I don’t know. Dishonest, I guess.”

  She’s starting to concern me. What kind of secret is she hiding? Things are going so well between us, I almost don’t want to hear what she has to say. But I can tell that she needs to say this and part of me wants to know.

  “Go ahead, Rachel. Just tell me.”

  She moves back a little and shifts her gaze to the couch. “Remember when I told you I was engaged?”

  “Yes.” I don’t want to hear this. Is she going to tell me she got married? And that she’s still married? Has she been lying to me this whole time?

  “I never told you why Adam broke off the engagement.”

  I sigh with relief. At least she’s not married. “Go on.”

  “First, I need to make it clear that I never wanted to marry him. I didn’t love him. I only accepted his proposal because I was…because I was pregnant.”

  She has a child? How could she not tell me this? Is the child living with her mother? Or her ex-fiancé?

  “So you have a child,” I say, trying to hide my anger. She should’ve told me this.

  “No.” A tear runs down her cheek. “I lost the baby. And then Adam broke up with me.”

  “Rachel.” I put my arms around her and hold her against me. “I’m sorry.”

  She’s quietly crying so I hold her tighter. I don’t know what else to do. I’m the absolute worst person to spill your heart out to, and if this were anyone else, I’d be up getting a box of tissues, then hand them to the person and leave. I’m not comfortable in these situations. Then again, I’ve never actually been in this situation. I’ve never had anyone open up to me like this. And I’ve never done it myself, although I’ve told Rachel more than I’ve told any other woman I’ve ever dated.

  “That’s not all.” She pauses.

  “What is it?” I ask, getting concerned again.

  “I don’t want to tell you this,” she says, still holding onto me, her head on my shoulder.

  “Why don’t you want to tell me?”

  “Because I don’t want this to end.” Her voice is shaky.

  “Why would it end?”

  “It’s just that…I know that you’ll…” Her voice drifts off.

  “Just tell me, Rachel.”

  She takes a breath. “Adam left me because my doctor told me that…that I can’t have children.”

  That’s what she didn’t want to tell me? That she can’t have children? Why was she so afraid to tell me that? It doesn’t change anything between us. In fact, it’s a good thing. I don’t want children. As soon as I found out that any children I have would be forced to be part of the organization, I decided to never have them. I’d never want my children to go through what I’ve had to go through. If I had a son, he’d be forced into the life I’m now living. And if I had a daughter, she’d be forced to marry one of the members. Someone she didn’t choose. I couldn’t bear to see my own children’s lives destroyed like that. And besides that, I’d make a terrible father. I had the worst role models for parents. I have no idea how to raise a child.

  Even if I wanted children, I wouldn’t give Rachel up because she can’t have them. I can’t believe her fiancé did. What the hell is wrong with him? He obviously didn’t love her. Wait. What am I saying? That I love her? No. That can’t be true. I haven’t known her long enough for that to be true. I’m just saying that he never should have let her go because of that. I certainly wouldn’t.

  I still haven’t said anything and realize I should just as Rachel pushes off me.

  “Pearce, I understand if you want to end things between us. I know we’re just dating, but I’m sure you’d rather date someone you could see a future with.” She wipes her eyes and gets up from the couch.

  I grab her hand. “Rachel, stop. Where are you going?”

  “I need to leave.”

  I pull her down next to me. “You’re not leaving. You haven’t even let me say anything.”

  She nods. “Go ahead.”

  “I don’t care that you can’t have children. It doesn’t matter to me.”

  She smiles weakly. “You’re just saying that because I’m a crying mess right now.”

  “No.” I hold her face with my hands and look into her eyes. “I’m saying it because you’re what matters to me. Not the fact that you can’t have children.”

  “I know you want them someday. Everyone does. And that’s not something I could ever give you. Or any other man.” She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to hold back her tears.

  I sweep my thumb over her cheek. “Rachel, look at me.” I wait for her to open her eyes. “That man is an idiot for letting you go. And hopefully you’ve noticed this by now, but if not, I will tell you that I am not an idiot.”

  She smiles a little.

  “If you were mine, I would never make the mistake of letting you go. And although I know it’s too soon to presume that you’re mine, I most certainly would not end this relationship over the fact that you can’t have children. I don’t care about that. What I care about…is you.”

  She smiles completely now, tears running down her cheeks. “I care about you too.”

  I take her in my arms again and we stay there, not saying anything. After a while, she sits up and looks at me, hesitating.

  “What is it, Rachel?”

  “I just wanted to say that, um…I AM yours. I mean, if you want me to be.”

  I smile, moving the strands of hair off her cheek. “Of course I want that. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.” And it’
s true. I just can’t believe I admitted it. Out loud. But she needs to know how I feel about her.

  She hugs me. “Then by default, you’re mine. So tell that to all the girls who are constantly flirting with you.”

  I sit back so I can see her face. “Nobody’s flirting with me. And if they were, I wouldn’t notice. I’m too distracted by you and what you do to me.”

  “What do I do to you?” She bites her lip, smiling.

  “I’m still trying to figure that out. I think you’ve got some kind of spell on me. I can’t go two seconds without thinking about you.”

  “I have the same problem.” She kisses me. “I think about you all the time.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “Maybe we should go to sleep.”

  I kiss her forehead. “It’s still early.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is.” She sits back but takes my hand, gently rubbing it with her thumb. She’s always touching me. My hands. My face. My shoulders. My hair. I usually hate it when people touch me, but I love it when she does. It soothes me, and when I’m not with her I crave her touch.

  I notice the concerned look on her face. “Rachel, are you okay?”

  She nods, her eyes on my hand as she runs her fingers over my palm. “I was so scared to tell you that.”

  “There was no need to be. You can tell me anything.”

  “I don’t really have anything else to tell you. That was my big secret. It’s the only one I have.” She smiles at me. “You want to tell me yours now?”

  My muscles tighten, my hand clenching up. If she only knew how many secrets I have. Secrets that are far worse than hers.

  She releases my hand. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.”

  “No.” I pick up her hand and place it back in mine. “I like it. I just forgot about something I had to do for work and it caused me to tense up.”

  “If you need to do some work, I can watch TV. I won’t bother you.”

  “It’s nothing that needs to be done right now. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

  She lets go of my hand. “Turn around.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  I turn away from her and feel her hands on my shoulders. She starts gently massaging them, kneading the tense muscles. It feels amazing. The only massages I’ve ever had were sexual in nature and didn’t relax me at all.