“What did you tell your mom about coming to California? Did she think you were crazy?”
“No. I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell anyone, actually.”
“Oh,” I replied. His answer had deflated me a little.
“I guess I was afraid that if I told my mom about how I was going after a woman, she’d get her hopes up. I didn’t know how you were going to react to me showing up. I didn’t want to have to go home and tell her I’d gotten my very first restraining order.”
I couldn’t help but laugh and thought he had a point.
“Nate,” I started, but was stopped when he held up his hand.
“Whatever you’re going to say, let’s just wait until after dinner. I want to sit here, with you, in that amazing dress, and pretend like this is the dinner date we never got.” The butterflies in my stomach took flight at his words, and the pounding of my pulse thrummed through my veins. I was in full swoon mode. “I promise whatever you want to talk about after dinner is fair game.” It was a statement, but it was pleading. I nodded, then took another bite, conceding. “So,” he said with a sigh, “how was work today.”
“Great,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I made thirty thousand dollars.” I said the words like they meant nothing, and then took another bite. I was aware he’d stopped moving, his fork stalled halfway to his mouth, eyes wide.
“I’m sorry,” he said, coughing a little, putting his fork down, and taking a sip of his wine. “Did you just say you made thirty thousand dollars?”
I nodded quickly, too excited to hide it any longer. “I’m sorry, it’s probably bad form to talk about money on a date, but I really wanted to tell someone.” I took a breath and continued. “I made thirty thousand dollars at my show last night.” I was nearly bouncing up and down in my chair, thankful to have someone to share the news with.
“Holy shit.” His face was blank and his eyes were like saucers. “Holy shit, Lyn. That’s amazing.”
“It’s really exciting,” I agreed. “I’m not sure I’ve really grasped it yet, but I know I’m really lucky. A lot of people can’t make it as a professional photographer and, well, I just secured my job for at least another six months. I feel really blessed.”
“You’re being humble, which is cute, but you’re really talented.” His words were insistent and genuine. I didn’t get the feeling he was trying to be flattering, it felt like he was telling me the truth.
“Thank you.” I blushed again.
“Wow, okay, now we’ve really got something to celebrate. I didn’t get any champagne though. I thought we’d maybe gotten enough champagne last night.”
“I don’t need champagne,” I said a little more dreamily than I had planned. My eyes were glued to his and I was already warm from the wine, and more than a little tipsy from his praise. I didn’t need champagne. I needed exactly what he was giving me.
“So,” I said, kicking off my heels and folding my feet under me on the couch where I’d just sat down, “let’s talk about you being in California.”
“Okay,” he agreed. He was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, but it was a small couch, so he was only a few inches from me. The hand closest to me held his wine glass, and his other arm was stretched out along the back of the couch, draping down the arm. I looked at him over the rim of my own wine glass, taking in the way his shirt was stretched over his bicep. I couldn’t be sure, but I was almost positive his muscles had grown in the two years since I’d seen him.
I wanted to reach over and undo a few of his buttons, maybe even all of them. He’d been eyeing me all through dinner and I knew he wanted to touch me too, but we were still going to talk. I got the feeling nothing would progress between us until that happened. And, honestly, I was okay with that. Things between us weren’t exactly simple and the way I’d left him hanging, without even a goodbye, deserved an explanation. Especially since he’d come all the way to California to see me.
“The last time I saw you, before you left, you were in a rough spot emotionally.”
I nodded, remembering our last encounter vividly. He’d been heartbreakingly sweet and very understanding.
“That day, it took everything I had in me not to wrap my arms around you and tell you how amazing I thought you were, and how dumb I thought Devon was for playing whatever role he’d played in your unhappiness.”
I opened my mouth to argue with him, but then closed it because, well, he had a point. Devon had played a role in my unhappiness. I’d long since forgiven him, and myself, for the years of torture we’d put ourselves through. It was over now.
“It didn’t feel right though.” He brought his free hand up and threaded it through his hair, showing he was frustrated, or frustrated by a memory, perhaps. “I knew if I tried to swoop in and fix you, you wouldn’t ever be mine.” His eyes darted over to me, and I tried to keep my expression even. I didn’t want him to know his words had opened me up. “Not really, anyway,” he continued. “We might have hooked up, and we might have tried to date, but if we got together when you were still healing from something else, we would have been doomed.” He took in a deep breath and then exhaled it out. “So, I did the only thing I thought was right. I gave you time.” He shifted on the couch, turning in to face me a little more. I was glad to have more of his handsome face to look at.
“You know that saying, if you love something, let it go and then if it comes back to you, you’ll know it belongs to you?”
I nodded.
“Well, I was trusting the wisdom of that stupid saying. I was hoping if I gave you space, you’d come back to me.”
“Nate…”
“So, I guess what I’m saying is,” he continued, talking over me, “I came to California to find out why you never came back to me.” His eyes came up to meet mine and he looked so gentle and curious, with just the tiniest twinge of hurting there in the brown depths of his eyes. “I thought for a while that it was because you were with Devon. But then I found you on your website, and your name was still the same, and a small part of me held out hope.” He stopped and shook his head. “I sound like a crazy stalker.”
“No, Nate, it’s fine. I can explain.” I leaned forward and placed my wine glass on the coffee table, then moved so I was facing him fully, sitting with my legs under me. I met his eyes and smiled because I could see he was anxious about what I was about to tell him. The butterflies in my belly thought it was adorable.
“I never came back to you because of something you said to me that day.”
His eyes grew wide and then confused. I could tell his brain was sifting through everything he’d said to me so long ago, trying to pinpoint what he’d said to make me run away.
“You put that alert on my phone and you told me, when it came up, to make a decision. You said you’d be okay with whatever I chose as long as it was my first choice.”
I reached out and took his hand because I could see him as he took in my words, watching as he realized what they implied.
“And I wasn’t your first choice.”
“No, Nate, you weren’t.” I rubbed both of my thumbs over the top of his hand, loving the moment but also wanting to get past it because I could tell it was upsetting him. “My first choice was me.”
I powered on because I had so much to say to him that I couldn’t risk him butting in.
“For so long, I’d been everyone’s second choice, just like you said. Then, you came along and you showed me what it was like to have someone see me first, to see me and make no qualms about wanting me. You were sweet and nice and such a great kisser.” I blushed a little, but then linked my fingers with his, smiling when he didn’t pull away, but gave me a gentle squeeze.
“I wanted all of that – wanted you – but knew it wasn’t the right time or the right situation. That next night, after we talked, I went to Devon and we finally both ended everything between us. Not that there ever was anything, really. But we just couldn’t do it anymore. He needed to move on with his life, and I needed to st
art mine, because I never really had. So, I left. I wanted to reach out to you, but I knew it wasn’t right. I couldn’t make you sit around and wait for me, especially when I had planned, from that moment on, to focus on me, on what I needed. And the last thing I needed back then was a man.” I smiled at him, hoping he understood.
“But never in a million years did I expect to see you again, Nate. And I’ll never be able to explain the way it felt when I saw you last night. It means so much to me that you came – no matter the reason behind it – it’s the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Our eyes were locked and his looked slightly worried and troubled.
I watched as his free hand slowly came across his body, gently finding my cheek, his fingers sliding back into my hair just slightly.
“And what about now, Lyn?” My eyes automatically closed at the feeling of his fingers floating over my skin. “Are you still your own first choice?” His words were whispered, and his hand put gentle pressure on the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. His hand, which was clasped in mine, pulled loose and traveled slowly up the side of my thigh.
I nodded. “I have to be. No one else is going to put me first if I don’t.”
“What if,” he said, his voice wavering just a little as his hand slid even higher up my thigh, then rounding up over my ass. “What if I told you I was interested in ranking a close second?”
“I’d say,” I breathed, our faces only inches apart, “the position is all yours.”
Our lips met in the slowest collision. When his mouth was finally pressed up against mine, I could do nothing to keep the relief from coming out of me in a moan. Granted, I never thought I’d see the man again, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t spent nights thinking about kissing him under that waterfall.
I’d missed kissing, sure. But I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I missed kissing him.
Then, suddenly, we lost ourselves. I was climbing over him, straddling his legs, pulling his mouth to mine as if I could fuse him to me. His hands were roaming all over me, groping me over my dress, groaning as he squeezed the fleshiest parts of me.
After minutes of making out like teenagers, I felt him pull away and my lips felt like the rug had been pulled out from under them.
“I’m sorry, Lyn, I didn’t mean to attack you like that. God, I’m sorry. You must think I’m an ass. I’ve been thinking about you for two years now, and all day today, and then you came downstairs in this dress,” he said the last words as he ran his hands over my ass again. “I’m sorry,” he said again, removing his hands.
“Nate, I climbed on your lap,” I laughed. “You’re not the only one who wants this.” I bent low again, trying to coax his lips to come back to mine, but he pulled back again.
“I don’t want you to think this is why I came here.”
With those words, I pulled back even farther, trying to read him, trying to understand his hesitation.
“I’ve been thinking about you for so long. I dated a few women, but none of them compared to the woman I took on that hike, who lit up when a camera was in her hands. Who loved two children so dearly who weren’t even hers. Who missed her best friend but did everything she could to carry out her last wishes. This isn’t about sex, Lyn. Although, I can’t deny that I want you. But, for me at least, this is way more than just sex.”
My eyes darted back and forth between his, looking for some indication as to how to take his words.
“So, you don’t want to do this?” I asked, my eyes drifting down to where our bodies were connected, yet still clothed. I could tell part of him wanted to continue.
His hands came to rest near my knees, a much safer place than my ass had been. I felt my heart deflate a little at the movement. I wanted him. I found myself unwilling to deny that fact, and also proud of myself for not shying away from sex. I’d spent a good portion of my life denying myself the pleasure of sharing my body with a man because the man was Devon.
“God, I want you, Lyn,” he said, squeezing my legs with his hands. “But I want more than just sex.”
“What more do you want?” I asked breathily, my heart rate spiking.
“I want you. I want us. We never got a real shot the first time – nothing was right then. But I want a second chance.”
“You live very far away,” I whispered, moving my hands up his arms, loving the way the cotton of his shirt slid along my skin. I wasn’t denying him, not in the slightest, I just wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting into.
“There are planes, and Skype, and FaceTime. It’ll be difficult, but it’s got to be better than the last two years of only imagining what it would be like.”
“It’s got to be only me, Nate.” My voice was suddenly serious. I hadn’t meant for it to sound cold, but when the words escaped from me, they needed attention. “I won’t be with someone who is also seeing someone else. I want to make someone, you, my priority, and I want that in return.”
“You want me all to yourself?” he asked, a smile now spreading over his previously troubled face.
“Yes,” I whispered. “And for the last two years I’ve been working so hard on myself, I want to give you all of that as well.”
“I get the new and improved Lyn?” His smile grew even wider.
“If you’ll have me.”
Then, for just one moment, I was struck with panic. I panicked because for most of my life the person I loved wouldn’t have me, and the one person who would, never knew the real me. This was the first time I’d come, essentially bare, stripped down and real, and offered myself to someone. And he could easily say no.
My breath was stalled, my skin vibrating with the agony of waiting for his response.
“I won’t just have you,” he said, bringing his hands to the back of my neck and pulling me down to his mouth, “I’ll keep you this time.”
I smiled as our mouths met, and the butterflies in my belly took flight again.
My smile quickly disappeared when Nate’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist, lifted me, and lay me on the couch, his body fitting over mine. One foot was on the floor, his other knee wedged between my body and the back of the couch, keeping the brunt of his weight off me. But I could feel the pressure and the heat pressing me down into the couch, and it was wonderful. I wanted to feel everything: every breath he took, every move he made. I wanted to be fully present.
We kissed and my hands started to wander, wanting to familiarize themselves with him, wanting to touch and feel him. I managed to squeeze them between us and started working on the buttons of his black shirt. I pulled his shirt free from his pants at the same time, slowly peeling back the only layer of fabric between my hands and his chest.
He shrugged the shirt free after I’d released the last button and tossed it across the room, then his mouth found mine again. I wasted no time letting my hands roam freely over the chest I’d only imagined, in great detail, both two years ago and then all day today. And admittedly, more than a few days in between.
My fingers made their way down the defined valley that ran between his pectorals, then felt the rigid bumps of his abdominals, and somewhere inside my brain a very girly voice was screaming and hyperventilating about the V I felt running up the sides of his hips as my hands smoothed their way to his back.
The entire time I was caressing the muscular landscape of his top half, his bottom half was inching closer to mine. His foot had come off the floor and my legs instantly wound themselves around his hips.
“Lyn, God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he said before dipping back down and sucking my lower lip into his mouth.
I didn’t have a response. Or, not one I would give him. He couldn’t fathom how long I’d been waiting for someone to want me, to chase me. Nate was here, in my home, where he’d traveled a long way to be, and he wanted nothing more than me in that moment. His hands moved over my body and I knew, without one single doubt, no one else was on his mind.
And that, to me, wa
s almost the best part. Almost.
My favorite part of our encounter kept being replaced by the moment that followed directly after it.
I loved the way his hands threaded themselves through my hair.
I loved the way he groaned a little in the back of his throat when I ran my fingernails down his biceps.
I loved the way my hips tilted to meet his, to bring him closer to me than any other man had been in so long.
I loved how, I knew, even if everything between us was brand new, I’d never given anyone what I was about to give Nate, which was all of me.
“I need you in a bed,” he said suddenly, lifting off of me and taking my hand. I was pulled to my feet and led up the stairs, all the while watching the way each muscle in his back worked with those around it, a synchronized orchestra of sorts. It was hypnotizing and glorious. He pulled me into my room, didn’t bother to close the door, and then started with the kissing again.
The man could kiss.
He didn’t just kiss with his mouth. No. He kissed with his hands all over my body, with his breath panting heavily on my face, and with the most demanding and gifted tongue I’d ever encountered.
As he kissed me, his hands bunched up my dress, pulling it up higher and higher, until he was fisting the length of it in his hands at my thighs. He pulled his mouth from mine, stepped away slowly, and then inched the dress up and over my head. I closed my eyes, not able to handle the magnitude of the situation. I wasn’t sure I could handle it if the first thing I saw on his face when he took in my naked body was anything less than the bulgy cartoon eyes I remembered from Saturday mornings. No. I didn’t want to risk witnessing his disappointment.
I felt the fabric brush over my face. I lowered my arms to my sides, and then I stood in my bedroom in complete silence.
“Open your eyes, Lyn.” Nate’s voice was low and deep and rumbled through me. My eyes opened at his command and I was relieved to see what I imagined the opposite of disappointment would look like. He looked excited. His eyes were taking in each and every part of my body before rapidly moving on to the next. His fingers were moving back and forth just slightly as if they were itching to touch me. I watched as his chest expanded and fell in time with his breaths, which were coming fast.
The Absence of Olivia Page 23