Текст книги "The Absence of Olivia"
Автор книги: Anie Michaels
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
“I never came back to you because of something you said to me that day.”
His eyes grew wide and then confused. I could tell his brain was sifting through everything he’d said to me so long ago, trying to pinpoint what he’d said to make me run away.
“You put that alert on my phone and you told me, when it came up, to make a decision. You said you’d be okay with whatever I chose as long as it was my first choice.”
I reached out and took his hand because I could see him as he took in my words, watching as he realized what they implied.
“And I wasn’t your first choice.”
“No, Nate, you weren’t.” I rubbed both of my thumbs over the top of his hand, loving the moment but also wanting to get past it because I could tell it was upsetting him. “My first choice was me.”
I powered on because I had so much to say to him that I couldn’t risk him butting in.
“For so long, I’d been everyone’s second choice, just like you said. Then, you came along and you showed me what it was like to have someone see me first, to see me and make no qualms about wanting me. You were sweet and nice and such a great kisser.” I blushed a little, but then linked my fingers with his, smiling when he didn’t pull away, but gave me a gentle squeeze.
“I wanted all of that – wanted you – but knew it wasn’t the right time or the right situation. That next night, after we talked, I went to Devon and we finally both ended everything between us. Not that there ever was anything, really. But we just couldn’t do it anymore. He needed to move on with his life, and I needed to start mine, because I never really had. So, I left. I wanted to reach out to you, but I knew it wasn’t right. I couldn’t make you sit around and wait for me, especially when I had planned, from that moment on, to focus on me, on what I needed. And the last thing I needed back then was a man.” I smiled at him, hoping he understood.
“But never in a million years did I expect to see you again, Nate. And I’ll never be able to explain the way it felt when I saw you last night. It means so much to me that you came – no matter the reason behind it – it’s the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Our eyes were locked and his looked slightly worried and troubled.
I watched as his free hand slowly came across his body, gently finding my cheek, his fingers sliding back into my hair just slightly.
“And what about now, Lyn?” My eyes automatically closed at the feeling of his fingers floating over my skin. “Are you still your own first choice?” His words were whispered, and his hand put gentle pressure on the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. His hand, which was clasped in mine, pulled loose and traveled slowly up the side of my thigh.
I nodded. “I have to be. No one else is going to put me first if I don’t.”
“What if,” he said, his voice wavering just a little as his hand slid even higher up my thigh, then rounding up over my ass. “What if I told you I was interested in ranking a close second?”
“I’d say,” I breathed, our faces only inches apart, “the position is all yours.”
Our lips met in the slowest collision. When his mouth was finally pressed up against mine, I could do nothing to keep the relief from coming out of me in a moan. Granted, I never thought I’d see the man again, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t spent nights thinking about kissing him under that waterfall.
I’d missed kissing, sure. But I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I missed kissing him.
Then, suddenly, we lost ourselves. I was climbing over him, straddling his legs, pulling his mouth to mine as if I could fuse him to me. His hands were roaming all over me, groping me over my dress, groaning as he squeezed the fleshiest parts of me.
After minutes of making out like teenagers, I felt him pull away and my lips felt like the rug had been pulled out from under them.
“I’m sorry, Lyn, I didn’t mean to attack you like that. God, I’m sorry. You must think I’m an ass. I’ve been thinking about you for two years now, and all day today, and then you came downstairs in this dress,” he said the last words as he ran his hands over my ass again. “I’m sorry,” he said again, removing his hands.
“Nate, I climbed on your lap,” I laughed. “You’re not the only one who wants this.” I bent low again, trying to coax his lips to come back to mine, but he pulled back again.
“I don’t want you to think this is why I came here.”
With those words, I pulled back even farther, trying to read him, trying to understand his hesitation.
“I’ve been thinking about you for so long. I dated a few women, but none of them compared to the woman I took on that hike, who lit up when a camera was in her hands. Who loved two children so dearly who weren’t even hers. Who missed her best friend but did everything she could to carry out her last wishes. This isn’t about sex, Lyn. Although, I can’t deny that I want you. But, for me at least, this is way more than just sex.”
My eyes darted back and forth between his, looking for some indication as to how to take his words.
“So, you don’t want to do this?” I asked, my eyes drifting down to where our bodies were connected, yet still clothed. I could tell part of him wanted to continue.
His hands came to rest near my knees, a much safer place than my ass had been. I felt my heart deflate a little at the movement. I wanted him. I found myself unwilling to deny that fact, and also proud of myself for not shying away from sex. I’d spent a good portion of my life denying myself the pleasure of sharing my body with a man because the man was Devon.
“God, I want you, Lyn,” he said, squeezing my legs with his hands. “But I want more than just sex.”
“What more do you want?” I asked breathily, my heart rate spiking.
“I want you. I want us. We never got a real shot the first time – nothing was right then. But I want a second chance.”
“You live very far away,” I whispered, moving my hands up his arms, loving the way the cotton of his shirt slid along my skin. I wasn’t denying him, not in the slightest, I just wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting into.
“There are planes, and Skype, and FaceTime. It’ll be difficult, but it’s got to be better than the last two years of only imagining what it would be like.”
“It’s got to be only me, Nate.” My voice was suddenly serious. I hadn’t meant for it to sound cold, but when the words escaped from me, they needed attention. “I won’t be with someone who is also seeing someone else. I want to make someone, you, my priority, and I want that in return.”
“You want me all to yourself?” he asked, a smile now spreading over his previously troubled face.
“Yes,” I whispered. “And for the last two years I’ve been working so hard on myself, I want to give you all of that as well.”
“I get the new and improved Lyn?” His smile grew even wider.
“If you’ll have me.”
Then, for just one moment, I was struck with panic. I panicked because for most of my life the person I loved wouldn’t have me, and the one person who would, never knew the real me. This was the first time I’d come, essentially bare, stripped down and real, and offered myself to someone. And he could easily say no.
My breath was stalled, my skin vibrating with the agony of waiting for his response.
“I won’t just have you,” he said, bringing his hands to the back of my neck and pulling me down to his mouth, “I’ll keep you this time.”
I smiled as our mouths met, and the butterflies in my belly took flight again.
My smile quickly disappeared when Nate’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist, lifted me, and lay me on the couch, his body fitting over mine. One foot was on the floor, his other knee wedged between my body and the back of the couch, keeping the brunt of his weight off me. But I could feel the pressure and the heat pressing me down into the couch, and it was wonderful. I wanted to feel everything: every breath he took, every move he made. I wanted to be fully present.
We kissed and my hands started to wander, wanting to familiarize themselves with him, wanting to touch and feel him. I managed to squeeze them between us and started working on the buttons of his black shirt. I pulled his shirt free from his pants at the same time, slowly peeling back the only layer of fabric between my hands and his chest.
He shrugged the shirt free after I’d released the last button and tossed it across the room, then his mouth found mine again. I wasted no time letting my hands roam freely over the chest I’d only imagined, in great detail, both two years ago and then all day today. And admittedly, more than a few days in between.
My fingers made their way down the defined valley that ran between his pectorals, then felt the rigid bumps of his abdominals, and somewhere inside my brain a very girly voice was screaming and hyperventilating about the V I felt running up the sides of his hips as my hands smoothed their way to his back.
The entire time I was caressing the muscular landscape of his top half, his bottom half was inching closer to mine. His foot had come off the floor and my legs instantly wound themselves around his hips.
“Lyn, God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he said before dipping back down and sucking my lower lip into his mouth.
I didn’t have a response. Or, not one I would give him. He couldn’t fathom how long I’d been waiting for someone to want me, to chase me. Nate was here, in my home, where he’d traveled a long way to be, and he wanted nothing more than me in that moment. His hands moved over my body and I knew, without one single doubt, no one else was on his mind.
And that, to me, was almost the best part. Almost.
My favorite part of our encounter kept being replaced by the moment that followed directly after it.
I loved the way his hands threaded themselves through my hair.
I loved the way he groaned a little in the back of his throat when I ran my fingernails down his biceps.
I loved the way my hips tilted to meet his, to bring him closer to me than any other man had been in so long.
I loved how, I knew, even if everything between us was brand new, I’d never given anyone what I was about to give Nate, which was all of me.
“I need you in a bed,” he said suddenly, lifting off of me and taking my hand. I was pulled to my feet and led up the stairs, all the while watching the way each muscle in his back worked with those around it, a synchronized orchestra of sorts. It was hypnotizing and glorious. He pulled me into my room, didn’t bother to close the door, and then started with the kissing again.
The man could kiss.
He didn’t just kiss with his mouth. No. He kissed with his hands all over my body, with his breath panting heavily on my face, and with the most demanding and gifted tongue I’d ever encountered.
As he kissed me, his hands bunched up my dress, pulling it up higher and higher, until he was fisting the length of it in his hands at my thighs. He pulled his mouth from mine, stepped away slowly, and then inched the dress up and over my head. I closed my eyes, not able to handle the magnitude of the situation. I wasn’t sure I could handle it if the first thing I saw on his face when he took in my naked body was anything less than the bulgy cartoon eyes I remembered from Saturday mornings. No. I didn’t want to risk witnessing his disappointment.
I felt the fabric brush over my face. I lowered my arms to my sides, and then I stood in my bedroom in complete silence.
“Open your eyes, Lyn.” Nate’s voice was low and deep and rumbled through me. My eyes opened at his command and I was relieved to see what I imagined the opposite of disappointment would look like. He looked excited. His eyes were taking in each and every part of my body before rapidly moving on to the next. His fingers were moving back and forth just slightly as if they were itching to touch me. I watched as his chest expanded and fell in time with his breaths, which were coming fast.
When his eyes finally landed on me, he spoke.
“You’re so much more than I could have ever imagined.”
Without any thought, I looked down at my body, wondering what he saw that impressed him so. I, admittedly, had a critical eye. It was an occupational hazard. I saw shadows where there shouldn’t be shadows, and dimples where I hated seeing dimples. I saw pointy angles were others might only see elbows. The point was, whatever I was afraid Nate was seeing, he obviously wasn’t.
Thank you, Agent Provocateur.
He took the two steps back to me and gently placed his hands on my hips, his rough, calloused hands sending shivers all over me. One arm moved to wrap around my waist, lifting me off my feet, and my legs instinctively wrapped around his middle. He walked us to the bed, crawled across it, with my body still clinging to his, and then he gently lay me down. My hands immediately went to the closure of his jeans, pulling them open, button by button.
We were rapidly losing the few remaining pieces of clothing between us, but when we were both bare, skin to skin, my body seemed magnetized to his. I’d never experienced such a complete feeling as I did pressed up against Nate, feeling his hands wander over me, claim me, need me. It was intoxicating and beautiful all at the same time. Intoxicating because I wanted to die in that feeling, wanted to end on such a high that I’d never have to float back down, but beautiful because I knew he was just as high as I was. This wasn’t one-sided. This wasn’t forbidden or soul crushing. This was his body finally connecting with mine. And it was beautiful.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
“Are you nervous?” Nate’s voice pulled my gaze from the door at the end of the path.
“I shouldn’t be, but I am.” My answer was honest and raw, exactly the way I was with Nate all the time. The last six months had been an awakening to reality. Suddenly, I was in a functional, adult relationship where I got out whatever I put in. It was astounding.
If I was open, honest, and real with Nate, he gave it back to me. If I told him I loved him, he always loved me back. If I went out of my way to show him I was thinking of him, he made damn sure I knew he was thinking of me too. Six months in and I couldn’t imagine not being with him for the rest of my life, and because I was open and honest with him about it, I knew he felt the same way.
I didn’t miss the angst at all.
“This is going to be one of the best days of your life,” he whispered against the shell of my ear and on cue, I melted. I melted because he knew what the day meant to me, knew that it would be one of the best days of my life.
We made it to the door, hand in hand, and with a deep breath, I reached up and pushed the doorbell.
Within moments, I heard the sounds from inside the house that made tears form in my eyes and a lump lodge in my throat. Nate squeezed my hand, rubbing his thumb along my wrist.
The door opened and the world stopped spinning.
“Auntie Evie!” I knelt to the ground and small arms were wrapping around me.
Ruby and Jax smelled exactly the same. They felt exactly the same in my arms, but they did not look exactly the same.
Even though I would have stayed on the porch and let them hug me forever, I pulled back, leaving one of my hands on a shoulder of each of them. I took them in, smiling as tears streamed down my face.
“Oh, my gosh, look at you two,” I said, trying to sound excited and not like I was sad, even though I was sobbing.
Ruby’s brown hair was a little lighter, but still curly, and very long. She was ten now, and looked very much like a ten year old, perhaps even twelve. She had more freckles and tanner skin, which made sense living in Florida.
Of the two of them, Jaxy had changed more, but that was more because he’d gone from being practically a baby, to becoming a small child. It was amazing, but it was also sad. He was almost eight, his hair was buzzed short, and he was missing a front tooth. His baby voice was gone and his boyhood voice had taken its place.
They both looked at me as if I was the most amazing person they’d ever met and my heart could just barely take it.
“Okay, kids, let’s take a step back, and let Aunt Evie into the house.”
I heard his voice for the first time in almost three years. In all the time I’d been away, we’d never spoken on the phone. We’d only corresponded through email or text message, and any time my phone rang with his name on the caller ID, I knew it would be Ruby or Jax calling to chat. Never Devon.
His voice caused a few things to happen. First, I smiled. He sounded exactly the same, even if his children didn’t, and that was comforting. Second, my eyes found him. I looked up at him and thought he looked great.
Just.
Great.
He did not look like the man I’d spend the rest of my life loving, and he did not look like the man I’d spent half my life pining over. He just looked like Devon. Third, I felt Nate’s hand slide into mine and give it another squeeze. This caused the color in my world to brighten a little.
Nate wasn’t trying to claim me, or give Devon some sort of signal that I was his. No. In true Nate style, he was showing me he was there supporting me.
“Nate, good to see you again.” Devon said as he reached out a hand, wearing a genuine smile.
“Likewise,” Nate replied with a matching smile.
“Evie, we’ve been waiting all day. The kids were nearly losing their minds with excitement.” He stepped forward and opened his arms to me. Without hesitation, I met him with a few steps of my own and gave him a hug, my hands open and splayed on his back. He smelled the same, felt the same, even looked unaffected by time, not aging much since I’d seen him last. But everything else was different.
My heart didn’t sputter when his arms wrapped around me, my breath didn’t steal away, and there was no electric jolt that used to shoot through me at his touch. I was unaffected, other than the warmth that spread through me as I realized all of this.
I loved Nate. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. In six months we’d been able to build a stable and wonderful relationship, even with us living in different states. He was the most patient, loving, giving partner I could have ever dreamed up. But I would have been lying to myself if I said I hadn’t been worried about how I would react to seeing Devon.
The last time we saw each other we were discussing how we’d spent ten years wanting to be with each other. Ten years is a long time. Much longer than six months. My worst fear had been that I would see Devon and something I’d worked so hard to fix over the last two years would instantly break and, in turn, I’d end up breaking Nate.
Hurting Nate was the one thing I never wanted to do. Intentionally or otherwise. So when no buried feelings started clawing their way up and through me, I realized, finally, that Devon was in my past.
Only the socially accepted rules of decorum stopped me from throwing my hands in the air and shouting, “I have no romantic feelings for you!” It was the biggest sigh of relief I’d ever let out.
Devon pulled away and held out a hand, motioning into his house. “Please, come in.”
Without thinking much about it, one hand reached back and took Nate’s, and then Ruby’s hand was in the other.
“I can’t wait to show you my room, Auntie Evie. Dad let me choose my own paint color when we bought this house and I chose this awesome, neon blue color.”
“Wow, sounds exciting.”
“Mine’s green,” Jaxy said from beside his sister.
I let the children lead me to the back of the house, leaving Nate and Devon in the living room. I worried for just a moment about the two of them alone together, but when I heard Devon’s relaxed and friendly voice offer Nate a beer, I let all my anxiety go.
The next half hour was spent getting to know my Ruby and Jax again. Ruby’s room was definitely a neon blue. I was honored to see a magazine story about my photography cut out and taped to her wall. I remembered being her age, and only really important things were taped to the wall, so I took it as a huge compliment. Her room was definitely that of a girl just barely creeping up on her teen years. She had a poster of a somewhat young-looking boy band, a beanbag chair, and pushed into the back of her closet I could see a large Barbie house that looked like it hadn’t been played with in a while.
She had a white four-poster bed with gauzy fabric draping down the sides, which looked amazingly romantic. I knew that in a few years she’d appreciate the bed a little more than she probably did now.
Jaxy’s room was a disaster, but that didn’t stop him from showing it to me with pride. His walls were indeed green, but I couldn’t have told you which color the carpet was, as it was covered from one end to the other in what could only be described as the litter of childhood. I stood in the doorway as he ran around and showed me all his “awesome toys.”
Gone were the trains and stuffed animals I’d left him with; they were replaced with nerf guns, a handheld gaming system, and spy toys. Jaxy had gone and grown up while we were apart.
It was thirty minutes of me just watching them, memorizing their new faces and their new facial expressions. I hardly said a word, but enjoyed listening to them tell me all about who they’d become in the last two years.
Suddenly, like a tidal wave, I became aware that their mother was still missing the wonderful children they’d become. I tried to keep it together, not wanting to cry in front of them, and instead, I asked where their bathroom was.
I disappeared down the hallway, found the bathroom, and locked myself in.
Even though I’d spent two years trying to get over Devon, I had never gotten over Olivia. She was, and would always be, the very best friend I ever had. It was easier to push back all the sadness losing her caused when the life she was missing wasn’t staring me straight in the face. I’d been so preoccupied with being able to deal emotionally with Devon, that I hadn’t spent any time preparing myself for the inevitable onslaught of emotion that seeing her family thriving without her would cause.
The bathroom was barren, only filled with the necessities. No rug was beneath the toilet to keep toes warm, no decorative towels hanging on the towel bar, just mismatched towels that looked like they’d been used to dry children that same day. No candles, no matching cup and toothbrush holder. It looked like a man’s bathroom.
That thought brought a smile to my face. He’d bought a new house and he was doing his best. It didn’t look like a woman lived here because one didn’t. He was a single dad and had given his family what they needed. A themed bathroom with matching accoutrements was not a necessity. Although, I laughed knowing Liv would die if she knew Devon had been letting company dry their hands on used towels.
I unrolled some toilet paper, because there was no Kleenex, and dabbed my face with it. Luckily, I’d worn waterproof mascara that day, so the damage was minimal. I cupped my hand under the faucet and brought some cool water to my lips, then took a few calming breaths.
I didn’t want the kids or Devon to see me upset. That wasn’t why I came to visit them today. And I knew later, while we were alone in our hotel room, Nate would hold me and let me cry all I needed. I needed to keep it together for a few more hours.
Once I felt like I was in control of my emotions, I flushed the damp toilet paper because Devon didn’t have a garbage can in his bathroom. I nearly laughed. Then I thought I would have to tell him in an email soon that with a nearly pre-teen daughter, he’d better get a garbage can ASAP.
When I left the bathroom, I could hear the kids and their father’s voice floating down the hallway from the kitchen. I started toward them, but I was caught by the photos hanging on the wall.
Most of them were the same photos that had been hanging in the house Olivia had lived in, but there were a few new ones. Jaxy’s first day of first grade, Ruby and Devon at a father-daughter dance, both of the kids with an older couple I vaguely remembered as Devon’s parents. It was a beautiful mixture of before Olivia and after.
At the end of the hallway was the living room, which I’d already walked through but hadn’t gotten a good look at. Stopping, I looked around the room and took it in, gasping, bringing my hand to my mouth.
Above their fireplace, at the focal point of their living room, was a large, beautiful print of a photo of Olivia. A photo I’d taken the day of her wedding before the ceremony while she was getting ready. She was smiling and mid-laughter. Her hair was curling around her face in soft ringlets, and pearls at her neck made the photo timeless. The silken robe she wore looked entirely as soft and luxurious as her smile. She was happy. And beautiful. And alive. Alive with so much more than just breath and a heartbeat. She was alive with love and happiness.
Anyone would see that picture and think the woman in it was happy.
I looked at that picture and knew Olivia was filled to the absolute brim with happiness the day that photo was taken. I remembered her happy. She was radiating with it. As the photo so powerfully demonstrated.
I’d tried not to look at photos of Olivia in the past few years. It was a sure trigger for tears. I thought about her often, but since LA was so removed from my life with her, I never got the chance to talk about her much. Even Nate was post Olivia on the timeline of my life. He asked about her every once in a while, but I think he knew it upset me, so she wasn’t a regular topic of conversation.
My eyes drifted from the happy photo and I noticed a few smaller photos throughout the living room. One was on the side table – a picture of Olivia hugging her children, both their faces smashed up against the sides of hers, all three smiling widely, Jaxy’s eyes closed because he was smiling so big. Another photo of Liv and Devon, both dressed up and looking fancy, probably at some work function for Devon. But they were connected at the sides, his arm around her back, her arm wrapped around his waist. Her other hand was resting against his chest and they were looking into each other’s eyes with obvious and abundant love.
That photo made me smile. Liv had loved him so.
On the back of their couch rested a blanket Liv had crocheted while on bedrest with Jaxy. I recognized it because I’d gone to the craft store and purchased all the supplies for it, then sat in her room, next to her bed, in a recliner Devon had moved in there just for me, as she crocheted nearly the whole thing.
It was worn and well used, and I spied some holes where the yarn had torn. Olivia had worked so hard on that blanket and then complained when no one had used it. It had been folded up in their linen closet for years, the kids complaining that it had been scratchy and always opted for other forms of warmth in the winter months.
Now, they lived in Florida where cold weather was practically unheard of, and the blanket looked worn and well loved.
Olivia was missing from this house, but she wasn’t absent.
She was on the walls, and draped over the couch. She was in their hearts, on their faces, woven into their lives. She was not, however, anywhere to be found in the bathroom. And that was okay.
“Auntie Evie,” I heard Jax shout from the entrance to the kitchen. “Dad says we have to have chicken for dinner, but Ruby and I want pizza.” He came running out to me, instantly grabbing my hand without hesitation. “We asked Nate what he wanted, but he said something about not angering the beast, and that he votes whatever you vote.”
I laughed and squeezed his hand, walking back to the kitchen. “I think chicken sounds pretty good.”
“Aw, come on, Auntie Evie,” Ruby said from the barstool she was sitting on, right next to the one Nate was atop. “Chicken isn’t any fun. And we hardly ever get to eat pizza.”
“You can’t barbeque pizza, Ruby,” Devon said with a smile. “We invited Evie and Nate over for a winter barbeque.”
“She can probably barbeque in LA in the winter. She’s not impressed with our weather, Dad.” Ruby hadn’t lost her trademark snark.
“She’s got a point,” I said, laughing. “I can barbeque in the winter in LA. But I never have, so this is going to be a first.”
“See? We barbeque.” The adults laughed while the kids sulked.
I lowered my voice and whispered, pretending Devon couldn’t hear me. “Maybe if you’re really good, your dad will let me take you both out for pizza tomorrow night.”
Devon’s smiling eyes met mine over the heads of his children and he laughed.
“Yes!” Jaxy shouted as he pulled a fisted hand down to his waist. Ruby clapped and bounced excitedly in her seat.
“Nate, would you like to help me get the grill going?”
“Sure thing,” he answered immediately and with an exceedingly friendly voice.
“Great, I’ll grab the meat tray if you want to grab the sauce tray.”
Devon didn’t have a toothbrush holder in his bathroom, but he had a separate grilling tray for meat and sauces.
The kids and I stayed indoors for a few minutes, but then I was taken outside because I had to see their pool and trampoline.
We ate some delicious chicken. The kids showed Nate and me all their cool trampoline tricks, and the three adults sat on the porch, slowly drinking beer and watching two well-adjusted children enjoy their backyard.
“Nate,” Jaxy yelled from his trampoline.
“Yeah, buddy?” Nate called out, a smile on his face.
“Do you know how to play Minecraft?”
“Is that a board game?”
Jaxy’s mouth gaped open in surprise and a tiny bit of dismay. “A board game? No, it’s not a board game. Come on,” he said, making a surprisingly graceful, bouncing dismount from the trampoline. He walked right over to Nate and put his hand on his shoulder. “I’ll show you what Minecraft is. Dad doesn’t like to play it with me. Says it’s boring.”
