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Does She Love You?

Page 6

by Rachel Spangler


  “Sounds tempting. I’ve never seen live Roller Derby before.”

  “Then come with me and cross it off your bucket list.”

  “Actually, I’m stuck at the office,” Nic said.

  “Which office? The one in Boston? Atlanta? Or the one in whatever mysterious place you’re from?”

  “Ah, corporate in Atlanta.”

  Davis noted she still hadn’t said what corporation or where she lived, but she was too happy that Nic was in Atlanta to care about the other details. “Well, it doesn’t start till eight. You can’t work all night.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got enough work to keep me busy all night.”

  “Work or Roller Derby. Doesn’t sound like a tough choice to me.”

  “It’s not about what I want, Davis. I have responsibilities and people counting on me. I shouldn’t let them down.”

  “Fine, be a tool.” Davis kept her tone playful even through the disappointment sinking into her chest.

  “A tool?”

  “Sure, another cog in the machine, a yes man, stiff in a suit. No wonder you’re a kinky park sex bastard in your free time. Corporate America is eating your soul.”

  “Wow, when you put it that way…”

  “Meet you at the Wyndham at seven thirty?”

  Nic sighed heavily, and Davis held her breath. Something inside told her this was good-bye, and she felt almost frantic at the possibility, but she wouldn’t beg. She wanted a romance, a relationship, even to fall in love, and she thought Nic could give her those things, but she knew better than to put that kind of faith in anyone, especially herself. So she waited, suspended in the moment, quietly asking the fates to show their hand.

  “All right. See you then, but you’re a bad influence.”

  Davis closed her eyes and smiled in a mix of relief and anticipation. “Oh, yeah, somehow getting called a bad influence by a perv feels like a compliment. Don’t be late.” She clicked off the phone and flopped onto her couch. Nic had chosen her over work or whatever else had battled for her attention tonight. Maybe that didn’t mean commitment, but at least it signified interest.

  Stop getting ahead of yourself. Just enjoy the moment. She wasn’t in love with Nic yet, not by a long shot, but she got a little flutter in her stomach at the thought of seeing her, and she missed her when she was away. She felt comfortable around her, and she didn’t have to pretend to be someone she wasn’t. Well, sometimes she pretended to be more casual, but she didn’t have to pretend to be sweeter or smarter or classier. If anything, Nic seemed to like when she got surly. None of her other lovers had wanted to be challenged or sassed. Half of them didn’t want her to talk at all.

  No, that wasn’t fair. She’d had a handful of meaningful relationships, one that even lasted two whole years. In that case they’d moved in together before the woman had told her she didn’t really see them going anywhere permanent. Since then she’d fallen for a string of flunkies and lunatics to showcase her bad judgment. None of them had lasted more than a month. Davis couldn’t decide if she preferred to be written off without ever getting a fair shot or to get a two-year trial and still be found lacking.

  She pushed those thoughts from her mind. There was no sense mulling over her past failures when she was supposed to be getting ready for a date. She needed to remind herself to let this be what it would be instead of letting past nightmares or dreams of the future override her enjoyment of the present. Logical Davis commended her on her level-headedness, but Emotional Davis went skipping out the door to meet Nic.

  *

  Nic winced as a petite woman on skates torpedoed a woman twice her size, sending them both clattering to the floor. The crowd went wild, and more points appeared on the scoreboard. Davis had explained the points system on the way there, but everything happened so fast Nic couldn’t always count how many people got passed in any given heat. She’d always been a football fan, but the clash of pads and helmets she’d previously considered brutal now seemed demure as bare flesh and barely protected bone connected with hard floors at blurring speeds.

  “This is wicked,” Nic shouted, to be heard over the other spectators.

  “Yeah, fast, sweaty girls in short shorts beating the crap out of each other.” Davis laughed. “See, I know what you like.”

  Nic eyed the infinitely sexy woman pressed against her. Davis was totally unreserved, her green eyes mischievous, and her smile making it clear what she wanted to do when they left. She wore skinny jeans and a maroon T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Her short red hair had been tousled with a hand full of gel, and she didn’t appear to be wearing a bra. Best of all, she’d tucked one of her expert hands in the back pocket of Nic’s jeans and used the hold to keep her close.

  Davis did seem to know what she liked, or at least what her life lacked. She’d played everything so perfectly tonight. Nic got to town yesterday but managed not to call her. She’d locked herself in corporate headquarters to avoid any hint of temptation. She’d been a model employee, showing up early and staying late. She’d made phone calls, taken meetings, and made appointments with possible clients in Savannah, Macon, Athens, and Chattanooga. She’d assured herself she’d be busy for weeks to come, and just before she’d crashed last night, she’d called Belle to remind herself why she worked so hard.

  She’d even resisted the first text message, but it was like Davis had intuited Nic was sitting at her desk suffocating under the stifling press of monotony. Davis couldn’t have known that Nic had begun to waver under the pressure to be perfect: the perfect employee, the perfect wife, and soon to be the perfect parent with everything all planned out. Really, she’d been doing fine at home last weekend until Belle mentioned their seemingly foregone future of full-time parenting.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want kids. She liked kids just fine in a hypothetical sense. The idea of having someone else to spoil rotten was a nice one, and her kid would have only the best. She’d go to the best prep schools Georgia had to offer. Maybe she’d love horses like Belle did. Then Nic could buy her a pony, or if they had a boy she could get him a dirt bike. She smiled at her own stereotyping; maybe she’d buy a pony for a son and a dirt bike for a daughter. She’d get a lot of satisfaction from proving to all the old anti-gay bullies that she could rear a little one even better than they could. She’d enjoy showing off videos of dance recitals or her kid’s report card. Sometimes she even longed to have her desk cluttered with crayon drawings and T-ball photos like her colleagues did. She especially liked the idea of being one hundred times better at parenting than her old man.

  But what about all the other stuff that came with babies? A baby would monopolize all of Belle’s attention, and their social calendar would get overrun with playgroups. And babies didn’t stay babies. It’d be eighteen years of no breaks, no change, no spontaneity, no more adventures, probably no more sex. Maybe she was being overly dramatic. She lived the American freaking dream. Why did she feel like she was drowning?

  When Davis had texted her about Roller Derby, it had sounded so random, so unscripted, so exciting. Of course the way her heart had pulsed a little faster at the thought of seeing Davis again hadn’t done anything to put a damper on the suggestion. Still, she’d tried to bow out gracefully. Maybe if she blamed work, then didn’t call back for a while, Davis would get the hint. Maybe she’d break it off and save Nic the trouble of disappointing her. Then Davis had accused her of being the exact thing she feared she’d become—boring, predictable, a tool. Nic’s natural defenses wouldn’t allow her to be boxed in, not even into a box she’d chosen. She couldn’t resist a challenge, especially one as sexy as Davis, so she’d caved.

  Davis cheered for a play, then snuggled closer, and Nic wished she regretted her moment of weakness. She wanted to have a terrible time. She’d hoped memories of her life with Belle would surface continually and assure her she wasn’t missing anything in their beautiful life together, but nothing here made her think of that other life. Nic was in a totally
new world in this glorified gymnasium filled with rowdy, young, vibrant spectators. There was no use trying to draw comparisons. Belle gave her stability and a past, and so much faith, strength, and devotion. Davis gave her excitement, energy, and passion. Belle comforted her. Davis challenged her. She couldn’t walk away from Belle any more than she could cut off her arm, but Davis’s influence was like air or water. Without the kind of passion she inspired, Nic would cease to be herself.

  The buzzer sounded, pulling Nic back into the moment as Davis tugged her toward the door. They walked into the cool night air, and Nic opened the passenger-side door of her car for Davis, who looked up and smiled brightly. “Where are you from?”

  “What?”

  “Come on. No lesbian I’ve ever known opens doors and pulls out chairs like you do. I know you’re not from the city.”

  “No. I’m from a rinky-dink little town in southern Georgia, but I live in Athens.”

  “Ah, a UGA girl.” Davis got in the car, and Nic closed the door. She hadn’t been prepared to give up any kind of personal information, and she wasn’t sure she liked having done so. She fired up the engine and shifted into traffic on Ponce De Leon Boulevard and headed toward Midtown.

  “What are you thinking?” Davis asked after a long silence.

  Nic quickly thought of something to say other than the truth. “I’m glad you let me drive.”

  Davis laughed. “Taking the bus isn’t that bad.”

  “It’s not great, either. I don’t run on anyone else’s schedule or set of directions.” Nic admired Davis’s stubborn self-reliance and the way she embraced all things urban, but she’d be damned if she’d take public transportation. She was independent too, and that meant going when and where she wanted to go on her own.

  “Is that really what you were thinking?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I just thought maybe you were upset I’d asked a personal question, and you might not like me knowing where you live.”

  Damn. Nic couldn’t cop to that, so she deflected with a question. “What makes you think that?”

  “You just haven’t mentioned anything personal before, and when I brought it up you got awfully quiet. You don’t have to worry about me going all crazy-stalker on you. I know we’re keeping things casual.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I’m not sure I trust me yet. I haven’t shown the best judgment in the past and…” Shit. She wasn’t showing good judgment now. She couldn’t keep rehashing the same internal crisis. She wanted to be true to everyone involved, and yet she couldn’t even be true to herself.

  “It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. I know I’m not your girlfriend or anything. We are what we are.”

  Nic grimaced at the harsh edge Davis tried to brush away from her voice and pulled the car into some random parking lot so she could look Davis in the eye. “I care about you a lot. You make me feel more alive than I have in a long time. I like being around you, and the sex feels so right I can hardly stand it.”

  “But?” Davis asked, setting her jaw.

  Why did there have to be a but? Why did one of them have to get hurt? “I’m worried I’ll screw up a good thing, or I’ll get hurt or hurt someone else. You said yourself the night we met, no one ever really has everything.”

  “And you said that doesn’t mean we ever stop chasing it.”

  “Is chasing a dream enough for you, Davis?”

  “It’s better than giving up.”

  “You deserve more than I can give you, but I’m not strong enough to let you go.”

  “Then don’t.” Davis took Nic’s face in her hands. “Don’t give up. No fear, no pressure, no regrets. No one has to get hurt. Let’s just try to have it all.”

  Could she do it? Could she have stability and excitement? Why not? She’d never failed at anything in her life, but she didn’t do anything halfway, either. She couldn’t go back and forth between craving Davis and being wracked with guilt. She needed to make a decision right now. She was either in for it all, or she needed to quit. Her heart started to beat faster at the challenge. She wasn’t a quitter. Why should she have to choose between roots and wings? She could be everything she needed, everything she wanted. No one had to get neglected. No one had to get hurt. God help her, she didn’t really believe that, but she wanted to, and want was a powerful ally to denial.

  A tiny part of her started to ask what would happen if she couldn’t pull it off, but before it fully registered, Davis kissed her. The tension exploded between them, electric energy surging until they formed a single mass of heat and passion. Then just as quickly as they collided, Davis wrenched herself away. “Does that help you make whatever internal decision you’re wrestling with?”

  “Yes.” Nic panted. “I’m all in.”

  Chapter Five

  May

  “Those are hot, honey.” Annabelle laughed as Nic cussed around a piece of Andouille sausage she’d plucked out of a bowl of grits.

  Nic hopped around and employed a Lamaze-type breathing pattern, trying to cool the meat in her mouth.

  “Nic.” Annabelle laughed harder. “Spit it out.”

  Nic chewed a few quick times and swallowed. “Whew, woman, you could’ve warned me.”

  “You saw me take it off the stove.”

  Nic grinned. “I can’t be expected to process details when I smell your cooking. I revert to my more animal state, and after three days away I feel like a bear coming out of hibernation.”

  “Even a bear would let go of something that burned.”

  “Did you just suggest I’m not as smart as a big dumb animal?”

  “Maybe.” Belle smiled sweetly and carried two bowls of shrimp and grits toward the patio. “But then again I’m in love with you, so I suppose that analogy isn’t any more flattering for me.”

  Nic opened their sliding glass door for her. A pitcher of iced sweet tea and a basket of cheddar biscuits awaited them. It was a beautiful spring night with a refreshing breeze carrying the subtle scent of magnolias fresh in bloom. “Well, all I can say is I’m one lucky bear, because I think I’ve just stumbled into heaven.”

  Belle tried to brush off the compliment, but it did feel heavenly to take the seat next to the love of her life. Nic was always over the top in her praise, but Belle loved to make her happy. While sometimes she would’ve liked more, she took pride in doing all the little things right. She didn’t enjoy cleaning, but she had an eye for detail, and her progress gave her a sense of accomplishment. Her real thrill, though, came on the afternoons Nic arrived home. She loved to cook, so she planned big dinners for them on those nights. She had all the intrinsic rewards that came with creating something from scratch: watching it take shape, smelling its aromas fill the house, and sneaking a taste under the guise of making sure everything was right. Then a few hours later she got a bigger delight when she saw Nic enjoy her meal. It wasn’t that she held her own happiness less dear than Nic’s, but rather Nic’s happiness magnified her own.

  And Nic had been very happy lately, as well as loving, attentive, and affectionate. She worked in Atlanta a little more than usual, which was always hard on Belle, but she couldn’t complain because when Nic came home, she was a model partner. Instead of arriving exhausted, she seemed recharged. She rarely locked herself in her home office, choosing instead to spend evenings on the couch with an arm around Belle’s shoulder. When she was away, she sent flowers, bought presents, and called daily just to say I love you. Maybe Nic felt better about their future as things picked up at work, but whatever the reason, Belle liked the results. Over the last two months Nic was more like the passionate woman she’d fallen in love with than she’d been in years.

  Nic had dug into her shrimp and grits with gusto by the time Belle even took her first bite. “Do you not eat at all when you’re in the city?”

  “Not like this. I’ve never met anyone who can hold a candle to your cooking.”

  “Well, I hope you’re not holding auditions.�


  Nic swallowed a mouthful of biscuit. “No, that’s not what I meant. I was mostly talking about restaurants.”

  “I know. I’m teasing. Poor thing, you probably eat nothing but fast food.”

  “I try not to, but I just work so late most nights it’s the only thing open by the time I turn in.”

  “I should come with you sometime. I couldn’t cook much in a hotel room, but I could do better than burgers and fries every night.”

  Nic frowned. “I wouldn’t put you through that to be my personal chef.”

  “You talk about it like you’d be sending me to a prisoner-of-war camp.”

  “It might start to feel that way to you too after three days in a hotel room by yourself from seven in the morning to sometimes eleven at night.”

  Belle’s annoyance flashed close to the surface. “I’m alone longer than that here.”

  “This is a four-bedroom house with family nearby, and tennis partners at the ready. It’s not like Atlanta has anything all that more interesting than Athens.”

  “It has you three nights a week,” Annabelle said, perturbed at Nic’s resistance to something so silly.

  “I don’t get to enjoy the city much, and I wouldn’t get much work done either if I worried about what you were doing all day.”

  “I’m not talking about moving in. I just meant maybe I could come with you every now and again.”

  “And I’m telling you I’d rather have you here,” Nic said tersely.

  Belle faltered at the sharpness in Nic’s tone. Why was she so resistant to the idea of their spending more time together? Nic never refused her anything, and her agitation seemed disproportionate to the request. What could she be worried about? “I wouldn’t be a bother, Nic, but I’d like to be in your bed when you came home.”

  “You are here for me when I get home, to our home.” Nic grabbed her hand. “You anchor me, Belle. You know I can’t deny you anything. If you want to go to Atlanta, that’s your right, but for me the best place you can be is here. That other world is always shifting and changing, but no matter what happens there I know I’ve got you, my rock, right here in the safe haven we’ve worked so hard to build. That means more than any dinner you could make in a hotel room.”

 

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