by L. S. Pullen
“I win,” he shouts, jumping up and down like a big kid.
I raise my eyebrows. “Only because you cheated,” I reply, breathless. I slump on the damp grass, then collapse on my back, chest heaving.
Nate joins me, leaning back on his elbows, a smug grin on his face. “Always so competitive, Felicity.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve always been a show-off,” I say, sitting up and shoving his shoulder in an attempt to knock him off balance. But he’s fast. In one swift movement, he has me on my back—pinned beneath him, his legs straddling me.
The air literally knocked right out of me, I take a deep breath—panic about to set in— when he begins to tickle me.
“Nate, stop. Shit, please pack it in,” I squeal. It’s like some sort of weird torture technique. I swear, who actually likes to be tickled?
“Seriously… I’ll wet myself,” I burst out.
He stills, giving me just enough time to wriggle free. But where he has me in such a fluster, I’m wobbly on my feet. I step back and lose my balance, but my feet only connect with air. As I begin to fall backward, my heart jumps up into my mouth.
Nate’s on his feet as he reaches for me, but I only manage to grab a fistful of his t-shirt, my other arm waving around like crazy as we both hit the water with a huge splash.
I suck in a mouthful of water before my head surfaces, where I splutter to catch my breath.
“Fuck, that’s cold,” Nate says when his head appears.
“No shit, Sherlock,” I stutter, splashing my way back to the edge.
“Where do you think you’re going? You can’t just pull me in here and then get out.”
I turn on him, my eyebrows shooting up to my hairline. “I bloody well can. It’s your fault, tickling me, what are you, twelve?”
“What are you, like twelve?” he mocks.
My hand snags on my earphones from my iPod in my pocket. It’s ruined.
For fuck’s sake.
Tossing it on the grass, I’m about to hoist myself out when warm arms wrap around my waist and pull me away from the edge. A very un-lady-like snort escapes me.
“It’s not that bad. Quite refreshing, actually,” he says, pulling me with him.
“Don’t even think about it, Nathaniel. I swear to God.”
The water is slimy, a sheen of green covering the surface. A shudder escapes me—it looked so much cleaner from a distance.
“Think about what?” he says, smiling. As I spin towards him, his expression changes into a serious frown. He moves closer, keeping his eyes glued on mine.
I don’t move. “Nate,” I say in warning, unsure what he’s about to do.
“Calm down, already. Lack of trust much? You have…something on your face.”
I wave my hand around. “What is it?” I ask, breathless.
“Calm down, it’s just a weed,” he says, amusement lacing his voice as he wipes it away.
Yuck. I let out a shiver as he flings the weed off his fingers and it floats off.
“Is it all gone? Is anything else on me? That’s so gross.”
My body tingles all over as adrenaline runs through my veins.
Nate whispers my name. “Felicity.”
I look and see how close we are.
“What?” I reply, licking my lips. I regret it almost instantly, tasting the lake water.
“I forget,” he replies, bringing his hand to my face, eyes on my lips.
His mouth crashes down on mine. A whimper escapes me, my body responding in kind as I kiss him back, losing all inhibitions. I place one hand around his neck, the other on his shoulder to steady me. Our teeth clash in desperation, but it doesn’t slow us down.
His fingers squeeze my hips. Then slide down. He lifts my thighs, and my legs wrap around his waist. His hands are under my butt cheeks supporting me as I push my centre into him. His chest is flush with mine, my nipples hard. I feel a vibration from deep within his throat, and it turns me on— knowing it’s me that’s having this effect on him. I can feel his hard length strained against me, right where I need him to be.
I grind myself into him, desperate, the build-up intense. As I find my release, my head falls back, and I bite my lip.
“Flick,” he says, exhaling. His tongue works along my neck, followed by tiny kisses. It feels so intimate. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?”
I tense and pull away. If he even knew, he wouldn’t be saying that. He leans back to look at my face, but I can’t meet his eyes.
I do the only thing I can think of in the moment. I press both my hands on the top of his head, and push. Hard. When his head is dunked under water, I push away, scrambling to get out. I grab my iPod and storm off.
“Shit, Flick, wait!”
I hear the slosh of his wet clothes when he pulls himself out behind me, followed by the squish of his wet trainers as they hit the ground. He catches up and grabs my shoulder. Instinct takes over. I raise my hand, squeeze his fingers hard, and jab him with my elbow.
A whoosh of air escapes him as he bends over. “What the fuck, Flick?’
“Sorry—” I take a step away from him. “Nate, I can’t do that, whatever this is with you… I just don’t—” I wave my hands between us and the lake like that explains it.
“Do what, Flick?” He straightens to his full height. His shadow engulfing my body, I take another step back.
“Hook up.”
I’m furious with him. Myself. With everybody. My body is telling me one thing, yet my brain is telling me another. I don’t know what to think, or what to do.
“God, Flick, really? You think all I want from you is to just hook up?” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“I don’t know, Nate. I’m confused,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Well…pretty sure you were just as into it back there as I was. You were right there with me, Flick. Damn it, don’t do this to me. Don’t shut me out.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.
“I can’t help it, Nate. I told you already I’m messed up. What did you expect?”
His shoulders slump. “I don’t have any expectations, but God, how can you not see how much I care about you? I’ve always cared about you.”
My heart drums in my ears. I turn, power walking back towards the house. I don’t know what to say or do, but I know I can’t leave it like this. It’s not healthy, my counsellor says. Communication is important.
I don’t need to turn to know he’s following me. Even if I couldn’t hear his footsteps, I’d feel the weight of his stare anywhere.
I spin on my heels. “Listen, Nate. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to give you mixed signals, it’s just…complicated.”
He shoves his hands into his wet joggers. They slip lower on his hips. I look up at his face.
“It’s not you. I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. I know the score, Flick. You have something with Simon, and I don’t claim to understand it. But I should, at least, respect the fact.”
Maybe what Nate and I have is unfinished business, but if he knew…I mean really knew, he wouldn’t want me…not in that way. The evidence—I can’t even open up to him about it—only proves I’m not ready. I just never anticipated these feelings he would conjure from within me.
I clear my throat. “There are things…you don’t know about me. I want to try to explain it, but I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”
His reply is on the tip of his tongue when Evie walks out. She gasps when she looks us both up and down
“What on earth happened to the two of you?”
I peer down at my dishevelled appearance. I have no words. Nate however, doesn’t hesitate.
“Flick pushed me in the lake,” he says, so matter of fact, I almost believe him.
I let out a shocked laugh and shove his shoulder, squinting my eyes at him before looking back to Evie.
“No, I didn’t. I grabbed hold of him. It was an accident, but now that I think about it, you kind of deserved it,” I say, turning my hea
d towards him.
He lets out a loud boom of laughter, which eases the recent tension, and reminds me of the boy I grew up with—the carefree, unassuming version of Nate.
“Maybe,” he says with a wink.
I just shake my head.
“Well, in that case, go sort yourselves out. You’re acting like twelve-year-olds.”
With that, Nate and I burst out laughing. We pull off our wet trainers and socks and head into the house.
I glance up as Nana leaves her room.
“What the—” she covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh.
“Don’t ask,” I say. She follows me into my room and grabs the towel off the back of the chair.
“I have to. You’re wet, and smell like wet dog.” She covers her nose.
“Nate and I had a little accident,” I say, trying not to smile.
“Hmm, an accident, really? So, what’s going on between you two anyway?” she asks, sitting on the ottoman.
“Nothing…it’s complicated. God, I don’t know?” I shake my head. Wet strands of hair stick to my mouth, and I splutter, disgusting.
“I know I’m old, but I’m not blind. I see the way you look at him when you think no one is watching, and I also see the way he looks at you.”
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know what to think, honestly. All I know is, he makes me feel things. Why is it so complicated?”
“It’s only as complicated as you allow it to be.”
“Well, he kind of thinks I’m still with Simon, and before you start… I should tell him the truth, I know. But I don’t think he’s ready. Not with everything that’s already going on.” When he learns the truth, he won’t look at me the same.
“I think maybe you’re the one who’s not ready. You’re just prolonging the inevitable. If you ask me, you’re meant to be together.”
“I’m not ready to put my feelings on the line,” I say, pacing back and forth.
Nana stands and approaches me. “He is a good man, just like his grandfather. You can’t let the past dictate your future. Concentrate on the present, and live for today.”
I know what she’s saying, but I’ve just got my friend back. I’m not sure I want to jeopardise that. Sometimes, it’s like I need him to breathe—co-dependency comes to mind.
“I’ll try.”
“You only live once, Felicity. If it means taking a chance, then do it. What if he is who you need to finally help you heal here?” She places her hand over my heart.
“Who was it who said get busy living or get busy dying?” Nana says with a wink.
I smile, is there any film this woman hasn’t seen? I’m positive my love of film is her influence.
“I’ll leave you to shower… But think about what I said. God knows you’d be making two old ladies very happy.” With another wink, she leaves me alone in my room.
My damp clothes cling to my body as a cold shiver rolls over me. I have a bad feeling.
A buzz from my bedside table forces my feet to move. Five missed calls and a voicemail. All from Simon. I don’t hesitate to dial his number.
“Felicity, thank God! Did you get my voicemail?” he asks, breathless. He never calls me Felicity. My stomach drops.
“No, I rang you straight away. What’s wrong, Simon?”
I tug at my clothes.
“God, shit I’m sorry…I know you have a lot to deal with, but I didn’t know what to do, She’s not herself—”
My heart begins to race. “Sophie?” I say, interrupting him. It’s a rhetorical question.
“She’s a complete mess. She just rocked up at mine around four this morning, she hasn’t even been to bed yet. I’ve been up with her, you know…trying to talk her down. She’s not making any sense it’s beginning to freak me out.”
She hasn’t been on a bender for a while. She’s been doing better. Something must have triggered this. I know she’s been avoiding home like the plague—out before her family is up, and only goes home when they’re in bed. But they started setting the alarm, so she’s been staying out.
“What the hell? Put her on the phone.”
“I can’t, she’s locked herself in the bathroom—I don’t know what to do.”
I clench the fist of my free hand.
“Shit.”
“She told me not to call you, but she’s unhinged. I’ve never seen her like this.”
“I’m coming to you.”
I feel my breathing speed up, a nervous energy overtaking my body. I perch on the edge of the dressing table, my legs weak.
“Breathe, Baby Cakes. Why don’t we see how she is in a few hours?” I hear the tension in his voice—he’s as worried as I am.
“No, I’ll see if I can borrow a car, or I’ll call a cab.”
“Please be careful.”
“I will. See you soon.”
Just as soon as I can sort out getting there. I need a car. I’ll ask Nate.
As soon as I hang up, I put my hands on my knees, bending over to take a deep breath. I have a really bad feeling about this. I shake my head and straighten, typing a text to Nate. Then rush to take a shower.
Chapter Twelve
Attacking the chest of drawers, I pull out the first items of clothes my fingers come in contact with. A knock sounds at my door, and with no time to be modest, I call out. “Come in.”
Nate enters, halting as soon as he sees me, and letting out a small whistle. I tilt my head and raise my eyebrows—any other time I’d probably feel embarrassed about standing in only a towel, but not today.
“Two minutes,” I say as I rush back into the bathroom.
I think I hear him mumble under his breath, no need to rush on my account. I dry myself off and pull on my clothes. This will have to do.
Nate is sitting on the edge of my bed when I come out of the bathroom. I tie my hair into a quick bun and let my arms drop to my sides.
“Sorry about that,” I say.
“Don’t be, I’m sure as hell not. Anyway, what’s up?” He smiles up at me.
“I hate to ask, but it’s kind of an emergency. Is there any way I could borrow your car for a few hours…maybe the day?” I ask, biting my thumbnail.
“Yeah, of course. Or I can give you a lift… Where do you need to go?”
I can’t accept a lift—that would involve an explanation.
“I need to go to Simon’s house. He rang me, and I can’t get into it, but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
He stares at his feet. When he looks up, his forehead crinkles.
“Shit, I hope it’s not because of what happened with us?”
“God, no…it’s my friend, Sophie. She needs me,” I say, pacing.
Nate stands in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders to stall me. I look up into his eyes.
“Stop and take a breath. It’s not a problem—my car is yours for as long as you need it. I know you wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
My heart softens with his sincerity.
“Thank you,” I say, and wrap my arms around his torso. I give him a quick squeeze, and lift to my tip-toes, kissing his cheek before I take a step back.
“I’ll meet you in the garage in ten. Let me go grab my keys,” he says
“Thank you.”
He nods before leaving my room. I grab my bag and go in search of Nana and Evie so I can tell them what’s going on.
Nate is waiting for me when I walk into the garage. “So, I rang my insurance company and had you added to my trade policy. I wasn’t sure if your insurance covered you.”
I smile at his thoughtfulness.
“Thank you. I didn’t even think of that. Let me know how much I owe you, and I’ll sort it out when I get back.”
“Don’t be silly, it’s fine. You sure you’re okay to drive?” he asks, rubbing my arm.
I stand there for a moment, finding comfort in his touch.
“I’ll be fine. Nate, I just want to say—” I swallow the lump in my throat
, “—thank you, for this,” I say, but it was not what I was going to say.
“No worries. There’s almost a full tank of diesel, so you should be all right for fuel. Do you need any money?” He pulls out his wallet.
I shake my head. “No, I’m good,” I say, patting my bag.
I’m a little overwhelmed right now—over his kindness.
“Drive safe.” Handing over the keys, his hand brushes mine, and my skin heats from the contact.
I step past him and get into the car. But just as I’m about to pull the door shut, he grabs hold of it. Kneeling, he leans over me to fasten my seatbelt. I close my eyes, breathing in the familiar scent that is all him.
“Promise me you’ll be careful?”
I can’t help but smile. It’s not like I’m skipping the country. If it weren’t for the serious look on his face, I’d probably say as much.
“I promise.”
“If you need anything, just call me.” He leans in, giving me a chaste kiss before stepping back and closing the door.
Breathing deeply, I take a moment to compose myself as I adjust the mirror and seat. Before I start the engine, I smile to him, then put my foot on the accelerator, and slowly pull away. I see him in the rear-view mirror, watching as I drive away.
Chapter Thirteen
The drive here has been torturous. Being stuck in my own head for near on an hour is not where I wanted to be. Simon is waiting for me as I step out of the car. I take the steps two at a time, and when I reach him, he pulls me into a big, bear hug. I don’t have a choice where he’s concerned—it’s a given—the boy is going to hug.
He closes the door behind me. I kick off my shoes and drop my bag on the table in the hallway.
“Where is she? Is she all right?” I ask, looking up the stairs.
“Loaded question. She came out of the bathroom to get her bag but then locked herself back in there. She’s been quiet for a while now,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Right. You go get the kettle on, and I’ll go talk to her,” I say, heading up the stairs.