Notes On Love

by K. L. Shandwick

  “About?”

  The elevator lurched to a halt, a chime alerting us immediately before the mechanical doors swished open. Gray placed a protective hand on my lower back as he guided me out of the elevator. Glancing each way at the numbers, he gestured toward the left. “It should be down here.”

  “You haven’t been here yet?”

  “Yeah, I have a room here but I have a friend staying with me. I asked her to book another room so that we could have some time together.”

  Instantly I ground to a halt, horrified by his disclosure. “You’re staying here with a woman and you asked her to book a room for us? What kind of fucked up arrangement is that? What kind of person do you think I am?”

  Turning on my heel, I began to walk swiftly back in the direction of the elevator, my heart rate rising with every step as my mind went into meltdown. I had only traveled about seven steps before Gray grabbed me gently, but firmly, by my upper arm.

  “Stop. She supports me in this. She’s just a friend, and this room is only a quiet place for us to talk. I didn’t plan on anything else. I promise, Hettie. I don’t have anywhere else that’s not public to take you.”

  Studying his face for the truth, his eyes pleaded for me to accept what he’d said. I knew him well enough from our past to know he was being honest with me. He’d never lied to me in the past apart from that last day. I nodded my acceptance, but the fact that he was in Miami with a woman left me with an odd feeling of jealousy. I knew I had no right to feel that way. We were in the past.

  Once Gray had found the suite number on the door, he slid the key card into the slot and pushed it open wide. I was thankful to see two high-backed chairs and a sofa in a sitting room arrangement, and not a standard twin queen bedroom or anything. My heart rate slowed as I calmed at the sight of it. Walking ahead of him, I sat down on the edge of one of the seats. I took in a deep breath to calm myself as his back faced me when he closed the door. Before he turned around I exhaled slowly.

  “Want to tell me what’s wrong? What are you confused about?” Gray asked as he tossed his key card and wallet on the small table to the side of the sofa. He wandered over to sit on the arm of the chair opposite me. The intense stare he gave me made me feel like I should look away, but I couldn’t bear to at the same time. It had been a long time since I’d seen his beautiful features.

  Wringing my hands, I sat in silence, not knowing how to explain that the man I loved wasn’t holding true on his promises about our future, to someone who should be firmly in my past. With what I felt I wasn’t sure it would be a good idea. My head was a mess of chaotic emotions and a hundred things I’d rather say to Gray, but couldn’t.

  “Answer me this. Are you happy? I mean truly happy, Hettie? You said yes earlier, but I have to say you don’t appear to be the same girl I left behind.”

  “Of course I’m not the same. You left me without saying goodbye, Gray. I meant that little to you all I got was a text. I knew we weren’t going anywhere, but you could have at least made the goodbye between us less messy for me.”

  “And that is what this is about? Bullshit. I may only have known you a short time but we had no secrets, Hettie. What’s he like, your guy? Tell me about him.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “In the diner, when I asked you about him I was prepared to have my heart ripped apart. I was prepared to watch your face light up like it used to when you saw me, but it didn’t. You hesitated when I asked if you were happy. When I asked you that question, yes fell from your tongue like a rehearsed line of a play. I don’t believe you.”

  My heart raced hearing his comment. It meant he had felt some of what I was feeling for him all those years ago. “And why would my words rip your heart out? That would indicate you felt something for me. I was nothing to you. I am nothing to you.”

  “That’s not true. I did feel something for you. Was it love? I don’t know. I’ve never been in love that I know of. Sure, I’ve had a high school crush kinda love. I’ve definitely lusted after hot girls to get in their pants, but I’ve never had the mood swinging kinda thoughts that made me hard one minute and crushed my soul the next, like my best mate Brody describes to me. But something did happen when I met you. Somewhere between meeting you all those years ago, and today, you’ve stuck in my mind. Of all the girls I’ve ever met, you’re the one that stuck. You said once I’d forget you. You were wrong. I’ve never forgotten you.”

  Adjusting my position while my heart pounded in my chest, I felt two things. Elation and sorrow, my life was complicated and I still couldn’t have him even if I wanted to. “Why did you want to see me? To tell me that you may have loved me once? What is this supposed to achieve, Gray?”

  “I can’t explain it…what I feel, but I needed you to know that what we had wasn’t just two friends fucking because they liked it. What we did meant so much more than that, baby. We had…more than sex.”

  We did. We were easy together…effortless. Gray had consumed my every waking thought for the last five weeks of my college days. Sliding off the arm of the chair, he stood up and paced the floor slowly. Both hands reached up to his dark blond hair, and I watched as his fingertips sifted through his locks. “I’m asking again, Hettie. Are you happy?”

  “I was.” My confession was out before I thought about what I’d said.

  “I think that is the most honest thing I’ve heard you say about your current relationship so far,” he stated. “Are you implying you’re not right now? What’s changed?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, helplessly. How does one start to explain Harris’ actions? Would I sound selfish whining about Harris work or would my discontent appear like a signal for Gray to make a move on me?

  Checking his heavy wristwatch, he made his way to the wet bar. Pulling out a beer he snagged the top off, set it on the side and fished out a small bottle of Bombay Sapphire Blue Gin. Grabbing a slimline tonic he kicked the door shut and glanced in my direction. He gave me a perfect full on smile. l felt the ice around my heart thaw, with that smile.

  “It’s after 11:00 am now, 5:00 pm in the UK. Happy hour,” he remarked. Another sexy smirk played on his lips as he poured my drink. Wandering around the counter to the tall fridge, he placed the tumbler under the ice dispenser making some crushed ice fall into the glass. “Gin still your drink of choice?”

  “It is,” I answered, marveling at the way he’d mentally stored everything from our time together.

  “I remember most things about you,” he informed me in a seductive tone. A nervous laugh escaped from my throat.

  “Well, you remember what I drink at least,” I answered, trying to sound unaffected.

  “You don’t believe me? Okay, let me see,” he challenged. His fingers covered his lips as he thought about what he wanted to say.

  “I remember how your laugh sounds, it’s infectious as hell. I remember how your hands felt when they stroked sensually over my skin, the way your nails dug into my back. I remember the way you always bit into my left shoulder when we fucked intimately, and I remember how your soft hand felt when you held my dick in your palm. My favorite memory is how naked my dick was when I was with you, my wet tip sliding down your slick pussy whenever I got ready to enter you. You’re still the only woman I’ve ever rode bareback.”

  I sat in silence absorbing his account.

  “What do you remember about me? I dare you to tell me,” he probed.

  “I don’t really want to do this, Gray. The alcohol, talking about the intimacy we shared, the way you want to know how unhappy I feel about Harris. This isn’t seduction…it’s manipulation,” I countered. I crossed my legs and hugged myself.

  “How am I manipulating you? I’m telling what I know. How it was for me when I was with you. If you feel manipulated it’s because of how you feel about your guy. You’re comparing what’s lacking with him to being here with me. That tells me something is stirring in your mind. You have to own that at leas
t.”

  “I have a life, Gray. A good life. The career I always wanted, a lovely apartment overlooking the beach, a guy who’s on his way up in his company, and we have plans.”

  “Well, babe, you know what I hear in all of that? Career, house, a guy that’s more interested in his job than his woman, and dreams of a future.”

  “Your career came before anything so how can you dismiss Harris for having the same aspirations?”

  “I wasn’t leading you to believe you’d have a whole future mapped out, sounds like he’s ducking out of committing to you.”

  Gray let me think about that last comment as he placed his butt against the back of the chair and stood quietly. Gazing into my eyes, he held my stare with a level of intensity that told me what he’d just said was the ugly truth about my relationship with Harris. Once he’d let his words sink in he continued.

  “I was twenty-three, Hettie. As were you. I knew I had to go home either way. My visa was expiring and my college days were done. In my opinion I thought a clean break would be less hurtful for you. Don’t think I didn’t feel how emotional you were that last night we spent together. I wished I could have stayed inside you forever that night. It was only when I got back to the UK that I began to notice the things I had taken for granted in you. That awesome smile I keep referring to, the way you used to brush my hair away from my face when I rocked into you, how you hugged me like you’d never let me go, and how your fingers felt against my scalp when they tangled in my hair when you kissed me goodnight.”

  Hearing the wonderful things, he had to say about how I’d affected him made me want that again. I had an urge to kiss him, instantly wishing I could reenact those memories and more. I stared longingly at his hands; strong hands, hands with fingers that had teased and pleasured me beyond anything I’d ever felt before, or since. Hands that now pleasured in a different way, entertaining tens of thousands at a time with his awesome talent on the guitar.

  I rose to my feet, knowing I had to get out of there before I did something I’d never be able to get back from. “Sorry, I can’t do this, Gray, I should go. This is wrong. Thanks for setting the record straight, it helps to know that what we had wasn’t all one-sided.” Without looking back, I headed for the door. Gray didn’t move.

  “You’ve got my number. I’m busy for the rest of the week, but back here at the weekend if you change your mind about talking some more,” he quietly informed me.

  I pulled open the door and headed for the elevator without waiting for the door to close. Tears welled in my eyes because after only a couple of hours in his company again, I wanted him more than I had seven years before.

  Chapter 8

  Hotel room ~ Gray

  Fuck! What the hell was I thinking? My one chance to mend things between us, and I played it all wrong. It was crass of me to think I could rely on the past to fix what happened a long time ago. Taking Hettie to the hotel suite had been one of the most stupid ideas I’d had in a long time, but I felt the conversation we needed to have wasn’t appropriate to be conducted in public.

  It had been too early to find a quiet corner in a bar to talk and hotel foyers were notorious for paparazzi. Not that I was that famous in the US by any means, but those guys trawl the world looking for stories.

  Despite what she thought, I was trying to respect the fact that Hettie was with someone and it was that consideration that led to me contacting Phoebe in the first place. I was surprised she’d even agreed to meet me given her current relationship status. When she did, something in my gut told me she wasn’t happy.

  From the moment she looked at me in the diner I knew she was still into me, and I was sure as fuck into her because my heart had gone berserk when I’d clapped eyes on her. Knowing that and not being able to kiss her almost killed me. I had touched her at every opportunity I could during our meeting, gazing intensely into her gorgeous bright eyes because I was still mesmerized by her. It dawned on me she was the first and only girl that had ever fascinated me.

  I still felt the magnetic pull that had drawn us to one another since the first day we’d met. Enthralled by the way she moved; my eyes had been glued to her from the moment we entered the hotel suite. I noted the way she tucked her hair behind her ears, flicked it over her shoulder, and how her fingertips found and skimmed nervously at the hem of her dress when she sat down on the chair in the hotel suite. Had I not known about her guy I would definitely have made a dick move on her.

  Watching her get up and leave was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, but I had to let it happen. I noted the sadness around her, and how controlled she had tried to be about her feelings and I felt bad when I had pressed her about her guy.

  Hettie was such a precious woman, one that didn’t love lightly, but she loved her boyfriend enough to walk out on our conversation. And although it galled me, I had to accept that.

  Letting her go pained me. It cut me deep, but it was the only way I could be sure that I had no chance. If she came back, it would be at her own free will. She knew I felt something for her, but I wasn’t going to force the matter. Seven years was a long time and people changed. Hettie wasn’t like I remembered her to be—the young woman I once knew was strong, sassy and determined. I felt as if she’d been worn down by something.

  Normally, I knew what I wanted and how to get it, but I couldn’t take that chance with her. She was with someone she cared about and my situation was still as complicated as it was before. My music was still as important as it had been when I met her—no, it had become more important since then. I had a worldwide obligation to fulfill; it wasn’t fair to come back and expect to pick up where I’d left off.

  I thought seeing her would make me feel different…more settled in my mind that I had done the right thing, but I was left feeling like all I’d achieved was to make both of us less content with where we were in our lives, and just as frustrated about the situation as when I left her the last time. With a sinking feeling in my gut, I knew I should have left Hettie in the past. I pulled out my cell to call Phoebe.

  “Where are you?”

  “By the pool, why? What do you need?”

  “Nothing, I’ll just change and meet you out there. Order me a scotch on the rocks, I need a stiff drink,” I said before I closed out the call. As I was sliding my cell back into my pocket it began to vibrate, so I took it back out and glanced at the number, six-two-one the last three digits read, Hettie’s last three digits.

  Hettie: Sorry I left like I did. I was feeling and thinking things I can’t afford to right now.

  My thumbs were moving before my brain was fully on board. I wandered back to the sofa in the room and sat down again.

  Me: Things about me? About us? What the fuck are you saying? She’s with someone. Nothing can happen.

  Hettie: Things are complicated enough, my life is with Harris.

  Me: You’re right. I’m sorry. I should never have said the things I did. You know I have never been able to filter when it comes to my opinions.

  My heart ached because she wanted someone else. Even though our circumstances meant we’d never be together.

  Hettie: You made me feel…discontented with what I have. Like I shouldn’t settle.

  Me: You should never have to settle. You’re amazing, babe.

  Hettie: Comments like that make me cry.

  Me: Why? it’s the truth.

  Hettie: I love Harris, but…

  Me: But?

  Hettie: He doesn’t look at me the way you do. He isn’t generous with his time and attention.

  Me: Selfish??

  Hettie: I thought we wanted the same things. I’m not sure anymore.

  Me: What things?

  Hettie: Kids, marriage, the whole shooting caboodle.

  Me: What the fuck is a shooting caboodle? Is it an Americanism?

  Hettie: The whole nine yards.

  Me: Ah. Gotcha. And he doesn’t? He’d have to be insane not to wa
nt that with you. Didn’t you guys talk about this before now?

  Hettie: Yeah. Many times. At least I have.

  Me: He doesn’t feel the same?

  Hettie: He’s stalling…but it’s not just that it’s…

  When she left the end of the sentence off, I interpreted it as if she felt lost in the relationship.

  Me: Something missing? Is he attentive? Does he take good care of you?

  Hettie: Yeah…no…sometimes.

  Me: Come back. Let’s talk. I promise I won’t push. I just want to be a friend. I’ll listen.

  Hettie: No. I can’t come back. You make me feel things.

  Me: Things? What things?

  Hettie: You promised not to push.

  Me: Would it make a difference if I said I feel things too?

  Hettie: See? That’s my point.

  Me: Stupid Brit here…what point?

  Hettie: It’s so wrong, but I didn’t want to be anywhere else when I was with you this morning.

  Me: Would it be wrong for me to be smiling like a loon?

  Hettie: It would, but your comment made me smile too.

  Me: Good, you should smile. Your smile is fucking awesome. It means the world when you do that for me.

  Hettie: You’re not making this easy.

  Me: What?

  Hettie: To shake you off. Get you out of my head.

  Me: Is that what you want? Have I messed things up for you?

  Hettie: Yes. No. I hope not. Maybe I just need to tell him how I feel. Make him listen.

  Me: Okay, it seems like this is where I bow out. I’m not sorry for crashing back into your life. I guess it was selfish of me, but I couldn’t come back to Miami and not see you again. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever been with, Hettie. Inside and out. Don’t settle. Make sure he gives you everything.

  When she didn’t respond after my last text I felt worse than ever before. Worse than when she walked out of the room I was still sat in. By the time I realized she was never going to respond; I felt deflated and empty. Eventually, I stood up and glanced around the room, a deep sigh of regret left my lungs and I wandered over to the small table where I’d left the keycard and my wallet. I turned to take one last glance at where she’d sat for twenty minutes, before I headed back to meet Phoebe, with an aching heart.