by L. S. Pullen
I elbow him. He squints his eyes in my direction.
“I just know how big your ego is, and I didn’t want to stroke it.”
He lets out a chuckle. My ears burn—that could have been so easily misconstrued.
“If you say so. Did you want to make a move back? Or are you okay?”
“I’d like to stay a little longer.”
It’s beautiful here. I feel stupid, now, thinking back to when he first brought me here. I was disappointed that it wasn’t actually a beach. But one of the many walks through the forest quickly made up for it. If I had known we were coming here, I would have grabbed my camera—taken some shots of the church. I always thought it strange how this was off the beaten track, but it made sense when he explained the rear of this pub was the venue for Britain’s first motorcycle speedway meeting.
It’s almost easy to get caught up in the tranquillity of this place—ignore the fact that the funeral is the day after next. I just want to soak this up, even if only for a little while.
“Shall we walk?” He stands, holding out his hand.
I nod as he pulls me to my feet. He lets go of my hands, grabs the lids, and leaves them with the bike. When he returns, he reaches out and takes my hand in his. We walk in a comfortable silence—apart from our feet meeting with gravel and the crazy bird chatter. I inhale deeply. My eyes flicker closed. Rays of light sneak between the branches, dancing over my eyelids. A gentle breeze whispers on my skin. Bliss.
He nods his head in the direction of a bench, and we take a seat.
Playing with his hands in his lap, he coughs before speaking. “How long do you think you’ll stay here after the funeral?”
I chew on the inside of my lip. I hadn’t thought about it. “Depends on my Nana, I guess,” I say, with a non-committal shrug.
“I wanted to know how much time I have with you before you leave again.” He turns to look at me.
My heart picks up speed as I see the pained look in his eyes.
“Nate, it’s not like before. We’ll stay in touch, I pinkie swear.”
He lets out a small chuckle. Holding out his little finger, I link it with mine and give it a tiny shake.
“Do you regret telling me about what happened to you?”
I let out a sigh. “No, but at the same time I don’t like you knowing why I am the way I am.”
“You’re fine the way you are. I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me. But I’ll always feel guilt that I wasn’t there for you.”
“I don’t think it would have made a difference back then. But you’re here now.”
He attempts a poor excuse for a smile. “Do you think my gramps would be ashamed of me?”
“Of course not, why would he?”
He begins listing off his fingers. “I let him down. He was ill, and I pissed off—went travelling with Charlie. Who the hell does that?”
I know he’s carrying around a lot of regrets, that’s more than evident after the other night, but he needs to let it go.
“You didn’t know it was terminal then. We can sit here saying what ifs until we are blue in the face, but believe me, it doesn’t change anything. It just makes you crazy from the inside out. What if I’d waited until I was eighteen before going out that night? I beat myself up about it all the time. It was one stupid decision that changed my life. I only had to wait one more week.” I stare at the robin bopping about on the path in front of me. I can’t hide my smile. Nana always says when a robin appears, it’s someone you’ve lost paying you a visit. I take comfort in that.
“It’s taken me a while, but I’m trying to get some sort of structure back into my life. I know better than anyone that there’s no such thing as perfect, but I also know we can’t let the past dictate your future,” I say, looking back to Nate.
It’s in this exact moment I have an epiphany. It’s everything Nana and Simon have been trying to tell me.
Nate smiles, I mean really smiles. “Damn, Felicity grew up,” he says, pulling me into his side and kissing my forehead.
I feel a moment of calm. I haven’t felt this way in such a long time, it’s foreign, and I don’t trust it. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Chapter Seventeen
I’ve been in a constant state of unrest since we got back earlier today—even more than usual. I’ve been over-analysing everything I’m feeling for Nate. I’ve always cared about him, but something has shifted—it’s more than that.
“Penny for them?”
I blink. “Huh.”
Nate hands me a beer with a warm smile.
“Thanks.”
Clinking my bottle against his, I stare as he takes a sip and licks off a stray drop from his upper lip. My belly comes to life—a warm sensation in my lower region. I clench my legs together.
“Film?” he suggests. It’s become our thing.
“Why not?” I reply.
Like he even has to ask—any time I can spend with him, I’m going to take it. I’m not even as bothered if my legs brush up against his, now. Any contact with him, whether accidental or not, is welcome.
In true tradition, I fell asleep. Waking, I find my arm is slung over his chest. I can feel him touching my hair. Opening my eyes, I see him gently twirling a section around his finger, his eyes focused on the TV, the volume low.
“Sorry,” I say, sitting up.
“Don’t be.”
I stretch, but a twinge causes me to wince.
“You all right?” he asks, sitting forward.
“Just a crook in my neck.”
He moves to his knees. “Here let me.”
He takes me by my shoulders, moving me so my back is towards him. I perch on the edge of the bed. His hands begin to knead the back of my neck, and then he works over my shoulders. My heartbeat increases when he moves my hair to one side. I tilt my head as his hot breath tickles my ear. If he doesn’t stop, I’m worried I might do something to embarrass myself. I put my hand over his to still it.
“That’s better, thank you.”
Letting go, he comes to sit beside me, his arm brushing mine.
“I should go,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“Why?”
“It’s late.” It’s a feeble excuse, but it’s all I can come up with.
The moment my eyes meet his, I’m lost.
“Don’t go. Stay with me.”
“What?” I strangle out, my heart pumping in my ears.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
No, not intentionally he wouldn’t.
He takes my hand in his. “I know I’ve got shit-poor timing, but if I don’t say this now, I don’t know if I’ll find the nerve. I like you, a lot. Way more than friends.”
My breath catches in my throat. My face flushes. He says that, but this is Nate. He’s a player.
“I understand if you think it’s too much, too soon. But life’s so short. If you only see me as a friend, I’m not going to lie, I won’t like it, but I’ll accept it. If it means not losing you again.” His stare doesn’t once falter.
His words speak to my soul, hitting the very heart of me. Who am I kidding? I can’t deny my attraction towards him, I never could.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he replies.
“Will you kiss me?” I stumble over the words.
“Kiss you?” His eyebrow rises.
I nod. Embarrassment sets in, and I look away when his fingers catch my chin and turn my face towards his.
“I want nothing more than to kiss you, but not if that’s all you think I’m after. It’s not. Yes, I’m a man with basic needs, the same as anyone, but I need you to want me…like I want you.”
I watch his face. It’s open, with honesty, and I answer him the only way my heart will allow.
“I do want you,” I say.
He leans his face towards me, pausing centimetres from my lips. My breath catches but in a good way. He doesn’t move, and it’s in this moment tha
t I know I need to be the one to close the gap.
My lips connect with his like an implosion. It begins soft and slow, then increases with an intensity I’ve never experienced before. Every sound that escapes him, my throat reacts with a whimper of my own. Heat pulsates through my body as it tingles to life.
He lies back, pulling me with him, rolling me on top. I don’t move at first, but soon my inhibitions escape me, and I grind into his hardness. I lose all sense of control as I gyrate over him. He meets me, move for move, and something begins to build between my legs, only the thin fabric of our clothing between us.
I contemplate stopping, but Nate holds me tight, whispering into my neck.
“It’s okay, Flick. You’re allowed to feel. You have the control.”
With that, his hand rolls over to my arse and pulls me closer. The friction sends me into a spasm of complete ecstasy. I can’t help the moan that escapes me as pleasure ripples through me.
As my body begins to calm down, reality sinks in. I just came from dry-humping Nate. But I can’t prevent the satisfied smile on my face, either. If it’s that good with clothes on, how much better would it be without?
A nervous giggle escapes me.
“That has to be one of the sexiest things I think I’ve ever seen,” Nate says, his eyes dark, hazel hues reflecting off the lamp.
I swat his shoulder before sitting up. Bravery overtakes me as I straddle him. Still throbbing with a warm ache, I move my hands to the waistband of his shorts and dip my hand under them. He pauses my arm, but not before I touch him. A hiss escapes through his teeth.
“Flick, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you doing anything you’re not ready for.”
“I want to. I’ll say if it’s too much.”
I see him weighing my words. He sits up slightly, and, raising his hand, he pulls my head to meet his, claiming my lips. His arousal sparks a new awareness within me. I stroke my hand down his long length.
“Flick, stop.” He says it like a warning.
“Why?” I ask, removing my hand. I rock into him. In what feels like a split second, he lifts me and rolls me onto my back. Air rushes from my lips.
“Why? Because I want you. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”
I lean up and nip his chin.
“I want you, too,” I say, with an honesty I wasn’t expecting to share.
“Do you mean what I think you mean?”
“Yes.”
I pull him down on top of me. Dragging his hands to the waistband of my leggings, his fingers slowly caress my skin before he slips a hand underneath. My breathing becomes heavy. He lowers his hand to the thin fabric of my thong.
“Take them off,” I whisper.
Slow and deliberate, he sits up to pull my leggings down, planting soft kisses over the material of my thong before moving them to one side. He trails his fingers over my sensitive folds before inserting one finger, moving it slowly inside me before inserting another. I gasp at the contact. It feels so good.
“You’re wet,” he says.
I reach inside his shorts again. He’s so hard. I stroke down his warm length, the tip moist. I love the weight of him in my hand.
“Take these off,” I say letting go, and pinging the waistband.
He slides his fingers free to take them off before he continues to familiarise himself with my skin. Pushing my top up and over my stomach, he spreads tiny kisses over my belly. His fingers are welcome when they slide back inside me. My body rises off the bed at the contact. I pull him closer, so we are face to face, and take hold of his hard length again. Moving my hand up and down, I tighten my grip as the rhythm of his fingers inside me intensifies.
“Don’t stop,” I say, breathless.
“Wasn’t going to,” he grunts out.
My hand tightens around him. I don’t know if it’s too tight, but I can’t help it.
“Fuck, I’m not going to last much longer,” he groans.
I take that as a good sign. My hand speeds up, as do his fingers.
“Nate I’m going to—” I gasp out.
His lips smother my mouth—blocking out the sounds I can’t hold back—as I experience the most intense and satisfying orgasm. My hand becomes clumsy around his length, but he doesn’t seem to mind. A tremor vibrates through him as he comes hard—all over my belly. Strangely, it doesn’t gross me out; if anything, it turns me on.
“Don’t move,” he says, in the sexiest voice I think I’ve ever heard, taking himself in his big strong hand. As he struts to bathroom, I cover my eyes with my forearm, trying to regain control of my breathing.
“You okay?” he asks. The bed dips.
“Yeah.” I move my arm to look at him, my face flushed as I chew on my lip.
“Sorry about this,” he says, as he wipes over my stomach with a warm flannel.
“Would it be weird to admit that I kind of liked it?” I say, biting the tip of my thumb.
“Do you know what you do to me?”
My eyes scan down the length of him. He’s getting hard again. He stands to toss the flannel into the sink, his length bouncing as he walks. Grabbing for a pair of shorts, he slips them on, tucking himself in. They hang loose on his hips. He grabs a t-shirt and throws it at me.
“Here, put this on.”
I pull off my top and catch him eyeing my bra. The way he looks at me makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world. I slip it on over my head and inhale—all Nate.
“Flick, I’m not letting you leave after that. You’re staying with me tonight.”
“But we didn’t have sex.”
“No, but we did have excellent foreplay,” he says, kissing my neck.
“You’re okay with us not having sex?”
“I waited this long, I can wait a little longer.”
My chest squeezes. This is the moment my heart opens, and I accept I’m falling for him.
He pulls me down onto the bed, opening his arms. I cuddle into him. The sound of his heartbeat lulls me into a careless sleep.
I wake to find him fast asleep. His breathing is heavy and deep—there’s no way I’ll be able to get back to sleep now. According to his stereo, it’s still early. I’m quiet as I leave him in bed. Grabbing his hoodie from his chair, I slip it over my head and make my way through the quiet house towards the kitchen.
Evie is sitting alone, wrapped in her dressing gown when I enter.
“Felicity, couldn’t you sleep either?” she asks with a sad smile.
“No.” I walk towards her.
“Do you want to join me for a hot chocolate?” she asks, standing.
I place my hand over her shoulder. “I’ll get it. Do you want another one?”
“Yes, please.”
I heat the milk in the copper pan on the stove before pouring it into two mugs and adding a generous spoonful of drinking chocolate. I join her on the cushions covering the kitchen bench. She’s turning an envelope over in her hands. It’s Lawry’s handwriting—he always did have excellent penmanship.
“You miss him?”
“Yes, immensely. I know I can’t complain—I had a long and happy life with him. And I was fortunate to have a second chance at love. Falling in love was unexpected for both of us, but it’s Nathaniel I worry about.”
I blow on my hot chocolate. “I do, too. Nana tells me how time helps to heal, and if you’d asked me that a year ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. But now I have hope things can get better as we learn to cope.”
“I hope so, too. I keep questioning how I’m going to find the right time to give him this letter from Lawry. I know he would have preferred to tell him in person, but his health just deteriorated so suddenly.” She lays it flat on the table.
“I don’t think there’s ever a good time for something like this.”
She pulls a hankie free from her sleeve and wipes at her nose with trembling fingers. It scares me—accepting her and my Nana are both getting older. I place my hand over
hers.
“I know Ana told you about Lawry not being his biological grandfather. His parents would have told him, but after they passed away, it just didn’t seem that important…not in the grand scheme of things—”
“Wasn’t important!”
I knock my cup, hot liquid sloshing over the sides. I grab the envelope, saving it just in the nick of time. I toss it to Evie as I reach for a tea towel to wipe up the mess. My eyes flit between the table and Nate’s dark silhouette filling the doorway.
“Nathaniel, it’s not what—”
He doesn’t give her a chance to continue. “Nan, what the fuck?”
I flinch as his voice booms through the quiet kitchen.
Evie covers her mouth as she attempts to contain her sob.
“Nate, just take a breath and calm down,” I say, raising my hands slowly.
“Calm down? How the fuck do you expect me to calm down? And better still, you knew, and you didn’t fucking tell me?” he asks, coming into the room.
I can smell his disdain—it radiates off of him like a kettle kept on the hob too long, whistling wildly. His pupils are deep and dark—his mood smothering the hazel hue of the irises I’ve grown to love. I want so badly to turn away, to leave, but I can’t. I’m rooted where I stand, knowing he has every right to be angry. I kept the truth from him—an omission…but still, I knew. From the corner of my eye, I see Evie’s body rattle with her quiet sobs.
“It wasn’t like that… I mean, Nana told me something before we flew out here, and I put two and two together, but I found out by accident,” I say, squeezing my arms round my middle.
“Accident or not, you should have still told me.” His voice raises another octave; my body begins to shake.
“I’m sorry,” I say. And truly I am. My breath quickens as I find the courage to move towards him.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised. I mean, you let me think you were with Simon. What was that? A sick ploy to make me jealous? Don’t even get me started on you not telling me about what happened to you when even my grandparents knew. It all makes sense now,” he says, placing his hands in his hair and pulling at it.
I pause. That was a low blow—even for him. My throat tightens, and I feel a pain rising in my chest.