Good On Paper

by Jennifer Millikin

  Spinning us around, I walk her backward until we hit the table. She squeals, and I lift her so she’s seated on top. Like she did to me earlier during my failed haircut, I step in between her legs, causing her dress to ride up her thighs. Her hands run over my shoulders and down my sides, then across my stomach. My hands are in her hair, skimming over her collarbone, running the length of her arms.

  “Room,” Natalie murmurs against my lips.

  “Are you sure?” Please don't let that question change your mind.

  “Room,” she repeats.

  I don't need to be told a third time. Stepping back, I offer Natalie a hand. She takes it and hops down. I lead her quickly out the door, swiping her shoes from the ground on our way out. The greenhouse door clangs shut behind us.

  Our pace is hurried, our feet tripping over the stone pathway. I pause at the entrance to the reception hall. The last time I came through here, I was hurrying for a very different reason. I bend down and set Natalie’s shoes on the ground before her. She steadies herself with her hands on my shoulders and slips her feet into her shoes.

  Squeezing her hand, I lead her into the hallway, casting a quick glance in the direction of the reception as we pass it. Maybe Malachi and Karis aren't so crazy after all.

  “Natalie?”

  I stop abruptly at the sound of Natalie's name coming from another man’s mouth.

  The jilted groomsman stands two steps out of the restroom, a paper towel still balled up in one hand. He looks at Natalie's hand in mine and his eyebrows draw together.

  “What's going on?” His eyes are on me now.

  “Beckett, this is my best friend.” Natalie turns to me. “Aidan, this is Malachi’s brother Beckett.”

  Beckett relaxes when he hears Natalie call me best friend.

  “Beckett, thank you for the dances,” Natalie continues. “They were fun. Aidan and I are going to take off now. Have a nice night.” Without waiting for a response, Natalie pivots on her heel and starts walking away.

  I start after her without a backward glance at Beckett. We round a corner, and Natalie presses her back against a wall and laughs.

  “That was awkward. I feel bad.”

  “Don’t. He won't be lonely long.” I can think of three girls in particular who wouldn’t mind keeping him company.

  Natalie still has her back pressed to the wall. She looks like a gorgeous piece of art, one of those real life contemporary pieces that you come upon in a park somewhere.

  “Have you changed your mind?” I ask.

  Her tongue darts out and swipes against her lower lip, leaving it glistening. “No. Have you?”

  Stepping back, I offer her a hand. She takes it and peels herself away from the wall and into my side.

  When we get to the front desk, I pull out my credit card and push it across the counter to the front desk attendant.

  “One room, please.”

  The attendant glances at Natalie, then back to me. “One king or two full?” He keeps his expression flat, but I see the confidence in his eyes. He already knows the answer.

  “King,” I say.

  “Yes, sir.” The man types quickly, looking down at his computer screen.

  He recites the total and I nod, but Natalie balks. “Aidan, that's too expensive,” she murmurs, her lips lightly pressing against my shoulder.

  “Shhh. It's fine.”

  The cost of the room is nearly the same as my portion of a month's rent. I have savings, which admittedly doesn't have much in it. This night, however, is worthy of using my trust fund.

  The transaction wraps up, and the guy slides the key card across to me. I slip it in my pocket and nod at him. I'm sure our lack of luggage has not escaped his attention. I'm also certain this isn't the first time he has seen that. Or the fiftieth.

  We move to the elevator. There is an energy between us, a sizzling electrical current. It travels over me, pressing into Natalie through our intertwined fingers.

  We share the elevator with four other people: one couple, and two men dressed in business attire. We stand at the back, Natalie pressing her body into my side. My free hand runs the length of her back, left bare by her dress.

  We are the first to reach our floor. The people part for us to get off, and I wonder if they notice our lack of luggage also. Then again, we could already be settled into our rooms and coming from dinner. Nobody knows us or what this means. Nobody knows the pool we have already dipped our toes into or the fact that we are about to dive in headfirst.

  We get to our room and I slip in the key card. It flashes red twice, then green. Natalie giggles nervously.

  I push open the door and Natalie steps through. She removes her shoes and drops her purse on a chair. The door slips into place behind me, the lock sliding across with a soft thud.

  I’m not sure how to close the few feet that separate us. It is not a great distance, and yet it is. What I’m really crossing are lines, not mere inches. The weight of it keeps me rooted in place.

  But not Natalie. My brave, beautiful Natalie. If she fears this, she doesn’t show it. She comes to me. She wraps her arms around my neck. She kisses me, her lips coaxing me from my apprehensive state.

  Her hands run over my cheeks, scrape along my jaw, skim over my arms. My own hands are on the small of her back, running up her sides and into her hair. I thought I knew Natalie better than anyone else, and now I see how much more there is to learn.

  Natalie tugs lightly on the front of my shirt. Without breaking our kiss, I reach down and grip the backs of her thighs. Her small, surprised gasp steals the air from my mouth. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I carry her to the bed. Gently, I lay her down on the ivory comforter. Her hair spills out around her head, her cheeks rosy.

  “You are so beautiful, Nat,” I tell her, and she smiles and reaches for me.

  I slip her dress down over her shoulders and kiss her skin. I keep going this way, a few inches of dress lowered, followed by my mouth on her exposed skin. Her hands clench in my hair. I keep going until she is free of every article of clothing, and her cheeks are flushed. As quickly as I can, I remove my clothes, tossing them on the ground near hers. When I look back down, she’s smiling.

  “What?” I ask.

  “It’s you.”

  I lie on top of her, supporting my weight on one forearm, and kiss her. “And you,” I tell her between kisses. “Me and you.”

  I don’t get a condom, and she doesn’t ask me to. I can’t bear to experience Natalie with a barrier. I kiss her slowly as I push into her. Her whole body tenses and she moans. I smile against her. I can’t help it. It’s her dark chocolate cake moan, only better. My movement becomes a rhythm, and Natalie’s legs begin to tremble. I keep going, our gazes locked, and hold her as she falls apart beneath me.

  Until dawn the next morning, I learn about Natalie.

  She likes to be kissed on the back of her neck and the inside of her thighs.

  I found her birthmark.

  I know that nothing will go back to the way it was before. And I don’t want it to.

  16

  Natalie

  “Where were you two? I was worried. Just because you’re grown doesn’t mean parents stop worrying. I told you to call me if you needed a ride.” Diana stands in the doorway, one arm propped on the jamb and the other firmly on her hip. Her concerned expression is slowly melting away, irritation taking its place.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Aidan says, walking up the steps and coming to a stop on the welcome mat. He offers no explanation, and I wonder what she will make of that. She peers around Aidan to where I’m standing at the foot of the stairs. My shoulders tuck in as she scrutinizes me, and I ignore the desire to run a hand over my face, as though Aidan’s kisses have left imprints.

  But they have left a mark. Invisible, but just as permanent.

  Diana steps away from the door. I hurry up the stairs and follow Aidan into the house. I long to reach out and touch him, but I can’t. When we woke up this m
orning, we decided we’re not ready to tell anybody about us. We want to be alone in our newfound place, cocooned only by our own emotions. The thoughts and opinions of others can come later.

  We both head for the kitchen. In an effort to get back to Aidan’s house this morning, we skipped breakfast. After last night’s physical exertions, it’s safe to say we are both more than a little hungry.

  Aidan goes right to the fridge, and I go to the pantry. I grab the first thing I see: tortilla chips. Aidan pulls away from the fridge with eggs, sausage, bread, and a canister of cinnamon rolls.

  He sees what I’m holding and opens his mouth. I feed him a chip as he unloads everything onto the counter.

  “Good idea,” he says, leaning down and giving me a quick kiss.

  “Aidan,” I whisper-hiss, stepping back and looking around. We are lucky this time. Nobody is around to catch us.

  He makes a face. “I don’t know how long I can keep us a secret.”

  “Then don’t. We could just tell them now.” If it means I can touch Aidan when I want to, then maybe it’s worth it.

  Aidan shakes his head. “Let’s stick to the plan.” He tucks his chin and leans toward me. In a low voice, he says, “You should expect me to sneak into your room after we eat. I plan to take that dress off you twice.”

  “Maybe breakfast can wait,” I murmur, but then my stomach growls and ruins the moment.

  Aidan laughs. “Apparently not.”

  Making the pumpkin maple pie gave me an introduction into how Diana sets up the kitchen, so I’m lightning fast at getting together everything we need to cook breakfast. While we cook, we snack on tortilla chips and use superhuman strength not to trade salty kisses.

  In twenty minutes we are fed and finished with what is admittedly a shitty job of cleaning up behind ourselves.

  Trying to act normal as we walk through the house and to my room is harder than not kissing Aidan in the kitchen. My stomach is flip-flopping more now than it was last night, a feat I wouldn’t have thought possible.

  The gods are on our side. Nobody is around to see us creep through the house, up the stairs, and into my room. Aidan locks the bedroom door and follows me into the bathroom. He closes that door too, then turns on the shower.

  “Shower sex?” I ask.

  He pulls me into him and kisses my forehead. “I was doing that for noise, but now that you mention it…”

  Aidan pushes the dress from my shoulders. He kisses me, and I lose myself almost instantly. His touch, his scent, just knowing it’s him, it’s all so overwhelming. Now that we are doing this, I can’t believe we haven’t always been.

  Eventually, we make it into the shower.

  “You go out first, then I’ll follow a couple minutes later,” Aidan tells me the plan as he puts his clothes back on. “I’m going to my room to change and then I’ll be down.”

  “Sounds good.” I kiss him one more time and pull my zippered bag over my shoulder. My party dress is safely stowed inside, and I’ve changed into jeans and a sweatshirt.

  He stands back away from the door, and I walk through, pulling it closed behind me. I’m almost to the stairs when Diana speaks.

  “Natalie, there you are.”

  I whip around. Diana is standing in the hallway, almost right in front of my door.

  “Hi,” I say loudly, hoping like hell Aidan hears me.

  Diana walks closer. “I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to talk with you about your manuscript.”

  Holy crap. With everything that happened last night with Aidan, I nearly forgot about giving Diana my manuscript.

  “You hated it, right? I knew it.” I’m not kidding. Crippling self-doubt is a hallmark of all writers.

  “Quite the opposite. It has a lot of potential. If you don’t mind, I’d like to send it to my editor.”

  My eyes widen, and Diana raises her hands. “I can’t make any promises. There’s a lot more to book publishing than a good book, unfortunately. But—”

  A cell phone rings. From my bedroom. We both look toward my closed door, then at each other.

  “I must have left my phone in the room,” I say, but I’m a terrible liar. My voice quivers and I cannot make my gaze stay in one place. Diana is apparently great at detecting lies. She looks at the room again, then back at me.

  “The ringing cut off after one ring,” she says.

  “Damn telemarketers,” I say lamely. “Must be that auto-answer thing they have.”

  Her expression goes from shrewd to shining, and I realize she knows. She stares at me for an extra beat, smiling.

  “Assholes,” she agrees, letting me off the hook. “So, I’ll let you know what my editor says. Sound good?” She starts down the stairs and I follow.

  “Sounds amazing,” I tell her, setting my bag at the foot of the stairs.

  Diana gestures to my bag. “I know you have to get back to the city, but I wish you could stay longer.”

  “Me too.” Suddenly I remember the pie Aidan hid. “I have a surprise for you.” I walk to the kitchen and pull open the pantry. Moving aside some boxes, I pull the container from its hiding spot.

  “Pumpkin maple.” I hold it out to her.

  “You made pie?”

  “When you all were watching that movie on Thanksgiving Day.”

  “I thought the turkey had gotten you and you were napping.” Diana removes the lid and brings it to her nose, inhaling. “Oh my god. I need this right now.” She walks to the cutlery drawer and removes two forks. She takes a bite and moans.

  “It’s better than mine.”

  “No way.”

  She takes another bite, pointing down at the pie with her fork. “Did you make this for Aidan?”

  I take a bite and nod.

  She smiles. “I’m glad he has you, Natalie. He needs you.”

  I stuff another bite of pie into my mouth so I don’t have to say anything.

  Aidan walks in and stops short when he sees us. He strides over and we both hand him the pie. He takes my fork and eats the final slice in complete silence. He groans when he’s finished and tips his head back.

  Diana laughs, but I have to look away. It’s the second time today I’ve seen him do that.

  We thank Diana for everything, and she apologizes that Aidan’s dad and Shawn are out and unable to say goodbye.

  “We’ll be back in the city in a few days,” she tells Aidan as she hugs him goodbye.

  To me, she says, “I’ll call you soon.”

  Aidan loads our bags into the back of the tiny car, and we get in. Diana waves from the porch until we are gone. As soon as we are out of her sight, Aidan presses on the gas. I squeeze my eyes tight and enjoy the ride.

  We’ve managed to keep our relationship secret for two weeks now. We meet in places neither of us would usually go and hope this means our friends wouldn’t go there either. Savannah spends the night at Drew’s place often, but not often enough. By the time we’re in bed together, we’re starving for one another.

  New York City is alight with holiday cheer. Last Christmas, I was separated from my husband and living alone in our apartment. It’s amazing what a difference a year can make.

  Last night was one of our lucky nights. Savannah stayed with Drew and plans to be there all day today. Aidan is snoring softly beside me. I stretch out and look up at the ceiling, laughing silently. Last night Aidan commented that he ended up christening my new bed after all, and I didn’t correct him.

  Aidan sleeps for another hour. I get up, make coffee, order bagels and cream cheese from the place on the corner, and read the news on my iPad. When Aidan comes out of my room, his hair rumpled and it makes me want to take him right back into the bedroom. He got a haircut soon after we came back from the city, but he still has the best bedhead I’ve ever seen. Apparently, bedhead turns me on.

  “Hey you,” he says, climbing onto the couch behind me and wrapping his arms around me. I take a bite of my everything bagel and hand it to him. He reaches over my shoulder a
nd takes it.

  “Lizzie’s?” he asks.

  “Duh,” I reply, scrolling for the next headline. Lizzie’s makes the best bagels. Once I asked them why theirs are better than everyone else’s. They told me what sets them apart is that they boil their bagels. Who knew?

  Aidan finishes my bagel and gets up. He pours himself a cup of coffee and slathers cream cheese on another bagel. He sits down beside me and offers me half.

  “What are we doing today?” He glances at me and brushes crumbs from his lips.

  “Whatever we want.” I lean forward and kiss away the spot of cream cheese he missed.

  “What do you think about starting the process of changing your name back to Maxwell?”

  This is something I’ve thought a lot about. If Henry and I had had kids, the choice would be much more difficult. We didn’t, and there is no reason for me to keep Henry’s last name. But going back to Maxwell feels like yet another piece of evidence to show we failed. First the separation, then the divorce, and now going back to my maiden name. There are so many ways in life in which we cannot go back, but in names, we are allowed a redo.

  “I've already thought about it. It's just a matter of actually doing it. I made sure it was listed in the divorce decree, just to make things easier on me. If I have time this week, I'll stop by the Social Security office.”

  “You don't have to do anything you don't want to do.”

  “I know. But I do want to go back to Maxwell. It's just,” I shrug, searching for the right words. “It's just so odd that for four years I was known as something else. Professionally, I've only been Shay.”

  “Do you want your first bestseller to say Shay or Maxwell?”

  “Maxwell.” I didn’t even have to think about my answer.

  “There you have it.”

  I sweep my hands together as if I'm brushing off the problem. “So easy.”

  Aidan plucks the iPad from my hands and sets it on the table beside his empty plate. Pulling me into him, he rests his chin on the top of my head. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to put pressure on you.”