Текст книги "Some Sort of Happy"
Автор книги: Melanie Harlow
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
Guess he wasn’t kidding about the sunrise.
I had the day off, so arising at dawn hadn’t exactly been my plan, but when I woke up and found myself alone in Sebastian’s bed, I missed him right away. Holy hell, last night had been amazing. From the blowjob in the car—I don’t even know what came over me, I’d never done that before—to the sex in his bedroom to the things he’d said…my mind was spinning. Jesus, had he really tied me up? Sebastian Pryce, who was so nervous about hurting people he kept his sharp knives hidden above the fridge, had actually tied my hands behind my back with rope?
Spying the rope on the floor, I brought the sheet up to my mouth and giggled silently. God. He was such a study in contradictions. But I loved that he felt comfortable enough with me to do it. I loved the things he said while he did it. I could still hear his low, intense voice in my mind.
Apologize… For breaking me down… The only thing I can do is make you mine.
Every second of it had been perfect. I’d meant what I said—I’d never apologize for wanting him—but I didn’t see it as breaking him. And as for being his… my stomach tightened at the thought. What did he mean by that? Like his his? The forever kind of his? Or was it just great sex? Maybe he was the kind of guy who said things in the dark he wouldn’t repeat in the light. I wanted to talk about it, but it would probably be like pulling teeth. Tugging the sheet from what were assuredly perfect hospital corners, I wrapped it around myself and managed to get down the ladder without slipping.
The smell of freshly made coffee filled my head as soon as I started to descend. I didn’t see him in the kitchen or living room, but I noticed the front door was open. Through the screen door I heard the morning song of the birds, and I remembered he liked to watch the sun rise from the front porch. I set the sheet aside and scooted into the bathroom, where I found a new toothbrush and washcloth laid out for me. God. He’s the sweetest hot-and-cold asshole ever. This could be really good between us…will he try? After using the bathroom, brushing my teeth and scrubbing off what was left of last night’s makeup, I poured two cups of coffee from the full pot, and waddled to the door, holding the sheet tight under my armpits.
“Hey,” I said through the screen. He’d been sitting there writing, and jumped at the sound of my voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“No, it’s all right.” He quickly closed the notebook, stuck the pencil inside the spiral, and set it on the porch floor before standing. “I didn’t expect you up so early. Here, I’ll get the door.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Wow, it’s so beautiful out there.”
He opened the door and took the cups from me. “I like your outfit.”
“You’re not mad I pulled the sheet off the bed?” I stepped past him onto the porch and took one cup from his hand.
“Uh, no.” He let the screen door slap shut and brought his coffee to his lips. “I’m particular, but I’m not totally insane.” He paused. “Usually.”
Smiling, I swished over to the other rocker, sat down, and looked around. “So this is sunrise.”
Sebastian laughed. “This is sunrise. Ever seen one before?”
“Yes. But not after a night’s sleep. The bars close late in New York, as you know, so if I worked till close, sometimes the sun was coming up by the time I got off. But it didn’t look like this. Or sound like this or feel like this.” I inhaled, the scent of dark roast coffee mixing with the fresh, woodsy air. “Or smell like this.”
Nodding, he sat in the other chair, and I tried—I really tried—not to bombard him with personal questions right away. But there was just so much I wanted to know about him! Everything from What do you like to eat for breakfast to What do you write about in that notebook to What did you mean last night that you wanted to make me yours to Are you ready for another round?
But I didn’t want to spook him too soon, and anyway, it was nice just sitting here. I could get used to this.
Whoa. Whoa there.
Somewhere inside me, rational sense suddenly spoke up. You just spent your first night together, so don’t go getting all attached to him or this or anything else. He already told you he moved here to get away and doesn’t want a serious relationship, so don’t go thinking one night of great sex was going to change his mind about that. You are not a special snowflake. I lifted my cup to my lips.
“Hey. No frowning at sunrise.”
I sipped and smiled at him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to. I was just thinking too hard.”
“Bout what?”
Inhale. Exhale. “About last night.”
A dark look crossed his face, and he looked out into the trees. “It was too much for you.”
“No! No, not at all. I liked it.”
“Did you?”
It was cool on the porch, but my body warmed. “I loved it, actually.” I dropped my eyes to my coffee. “I’ve never done that before.”
“Me either.”
I looked at him, surprised. “No? My God, you knew exactly what you were doing! You seemed so sure of yourself.”
“I know how to tie a good knot. And I’d certainly thought about doing it plenty of times.” He looked away from me for a second. “I’ve just never met anyone I felt comfortable enough to do it with.”
“Not even your fiancée?” I couldn’t resist.
“Especially not her.”
Oh my God, what did that mean? I was trying to work it out in my brain when he reached over and tugged on the sheet. “Hey. Stop analyzing. Last night was fun. Let’s leave it at that.”
What? Was he fucking kidding? I couldn’t leave it at fun! What about all the things we’d said? Didn’t they mean anything? “But—”
“No buts. Come here.”
A little frustrated, I got up, coffee and sheet and all, and went over to his chair, where he opened his arms and motioned for me to sit onto his lap. His chest was warm, and I leaned back against it, trying not to feel disappointed that he wasn’t going to tell me anything else.
And then the notebook at our feet caught my eye.
“Are you a writer too?” I ventured.
“No. Not really.”
“I noticed you have that notebook with you a lot.”
He hesitated. “It’s part of my therapy.”
“Oh.” I paused for a sip of coffee, wishing I could see his face. Could I keep asking or was I pushing it? “Like a journal?”
“Sort of.”
And that was it. We talked a little about the reunion and the job at the winery he wanted me to apply for, but nothing more personal. When our cups were empty, Sebastian offered to refill them, and I stood. He kissed my cheek. “You’re even prettier with no makeup on. Do you know that?”
I blushed. “Thank you. I appreciate the things you left out for me in the bathroom. You do that for all your dates?”
“Stop it. I’ve never had a woman here, Skylar. You’re the first.”
As I watched him go inside, the thought of another woman here with him struck me with a jealousy so fierce it knocked the wind out of my chest. Shit. I really liked him. I wanted this to be something. Why wouldn’t he talk to me? I looked down at the notebook again, the powerful urge to peek inside it overwhelming me.
No. Don’t do it.
But when I heard the bathroom door open and shut, I acted without hesitation. I wanted to know—was he feeling anything like I was? Was he just too scared to tell me? Crouching down, I flipped quickly to the last page and looked to see what he’d written. My heart was already beating madly when I saw my name.
Skylar
You fall softly
like snow
mine
I read through the words on the page quickly, gooseflesh covering my skin, and when I didn’t hear the door open again, I read through it once more, savoring the words this time. Tears welled in my eyes—I did want to gather the broken pieces of him close to me. But what did he mean by my “foolish” heart? Was he saying I was dumb to think this could work?
I flipped back a couple pages and the word kissing caught my eye. As I began to read, my stomach turned over.
I’m kissing her. We’re on the couch, and she’s sitting beside me. My hands are in her hair, and it occurs to me that I could have the urge to put my hands on her neck and squeeze her throat, cutting off her air. I am weak and will give in to this urge. I pull back from the kiss and she smiles at me. I wrap my hands around her throat and watch the confusion come over her face, her blue eyes widening in concern. She is vulnerable and helpless and trusting. Helpless to control the impulse, I squeeze hard, so that she cannot breathe. Her pale complexion purples as she struggles to breathe, and her eyes are terrified. In a moment, it’s done. I’ve crushed the life out of this beautiful creature, and I deserve to die for it.
The screen door opened. “What the fuck?”
I jumped up, my face burning hot, my skin prickling with shame. “Oh God, Sebastian. I’m sorry, I—”
“Godammit, Skylar. This is personal.” He set the cups on the wood floor so hard coffee sloshed over the edges and picked up the notebook, which was still open to the page I’d read. As he glanced at it, his complexion darkened. “Fuck. Fuck!”
“I’m sorry,” I said, tears spilling over. “I just wanted to know how you felt and you wouldn’t tell me. But…what is that stuff about choking someone?” Those words…what the hell was that about? Was it some kind of fantasy? Or was it therapy?
He slammed the notebook shut and stared at me. I’d never seen such rage in his eyes. “Did you need to see if I was the monster I say I am? Got your fucking answer, didn’t you.”
“Please. I don’t think you’re a monster.” I yanked the sheet up higher and wiped at the tears coursing down my cheeks.
“Yes, you do. I can see it on your face.”
“No. It was so wrong of me to look in there, Sebastian, and I’ll never do it again. Please say you’ll forgive me.”
He closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled loudly.
“Talk to me!”
He opened his eyes and stared hard at me. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want the truth. Did you look in it the first time? The time I left it at the shop?”
Oh fuck. This really sucked. I wasn’t even wearing clothes—I had no armor at all. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “Yeah. I did.”
“What did you see?”
I swallowed hard. “I saw the list of things with the numbers, and I saw that Talk to Skylar Nixon was written.”
“Anything else?” The cold fury in his voice made me tear up all over again.
“Yes. I saw a poem you must have written about me the day we saw each other again at the beach. It was so beautiful, Sebastian. I was so drawn to you after reading it.”
He laughed bitterly. “Really.”
“Yes! At least I’m being honest!”
“You got caught. You have to be honest now.”
I bit my lip, torn between wanting answers and knowing I should shut up. “What was that about choking a woman? Was it therapy? Was it about me?”
“Fuck off. Not everything in my life is about you.” He turned and stormed into the cabin, leaving me to sob uncontrollably on the porch.
God, why couldn’t I have minded my own business? Why hadn’t I just asked him directly what I wanted to know? Why couldn’t he and I make this work, and was it even worth trying? If our start was this rocky, should we just forget it?
I collapsed onto the porch steps and cried hard into my arms.
Up in the loft, I threw the fucking notebook on the floor and sat down hard on the edge of the bed. I was mad as fuck, and I was horrified. Skylar had seen really fucked-up things that I’d written—things that I wasn’t comfortable sharing with her yet, so I’d lashed out. The SUDS list was one thing, I might have talked with her about that eventually anyway, but the stuff about her…God. She’d seen the exercise Ken had recommended where I imagine the worst—I’d written that the night I’d seen her at the beach in the attempt to lessen the impact of the thought, to wrest control away from it. I’d written in graphic detail about strangling her—my God, what she must think? She was probably down there calling the police!
It was a matter of time, anyway.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe that was true.
Still, I’d treated her cruelly. As if I didn’t know what it was like to mess up and be sorry for it. And yet she’d apologized and asked my forgiveness.
I was a monster.
You warned her. She can’t say you didn’t.
“So now what, asshole?” I muttered, rubbing my face with my hands.
From downstairs I heard the screen door shut, and a moment later I saw her messy blonde head coming up the ladder. She got to the top, struggled with the sheet, then stood up tall. Her face was tearstained and her eyes were red, but the set of her chin was defiant.
“Here’s the thing,” she announced. “I’m not letting us ruin this.”
“Ruin what?”
“Our beginning. I don’t care what you wrote in that book, you are not a monster and I’ll never think that. So if that’s what has you all in knots right now, let’s just get that out of the way.”
I was too stunned to say anything.
“And I was completely wrong to look in your notebook the way I did. I’m sorry.” She lifted her shoulders. “I wanted to know how you felt.”
I’m falling in love with you.
“Sebastian.” She walked toward me, and I focused on the sheet wrapped around her body. “How do you feel?”
“I don’t know,” I said lamely. I stared at her bare feet, toe to toe with mine.
“Yes, you do. You’re scared. I am too.” She put her hand under my chin and forced me to meet her eyes. “I was there last night, remember? I heard the things you said. I said things back to you, and I meant them.”
Finally, I looked up and met her eyes. “I meant the things I said too.”
“OK.” She rubbed my arm. “Then we have something worth fighting for, something young and a little unsteady on its legs, but it can get stronger.”
“What if this is just too much work?” I blurted, hating myself for sounding like a coward.
“For who?”
“Both of us. What if I keep fucking up and you get tired of having to forgive me?”
“Hey.” She knelt at my feet. “I don’t want you to be anyone other than who you are. I don’t know how else to tell you that. And look, it was me today that fucked up and needed forgiveness, right?”
“I guess so.”
“And I’ll never do that again. Your journal is your business. Your therapy is your business. I was totally wrong to look in it.” She hesitated. “Even if your words about me did give me goose bumps.”
I laughed a little, embarrassed but pleased. “Did they?”
“Yes.” She looked up at me with wide, searching eyes, and I felt my dick begin to stiffen. “But why did you say I had a foolish heart? Do you think I’m a fool? Sometimes I think I’m not smart enough for you.”
My chest caved. “Skylar. I didn’t mean it like that.” Leaning down, I took her head in my hands and kissed her softly, then reached for the sheet wrapped around her. She stood and let it fall, and I grabbed her beneath the arms, tipping her back on the bed. I stretched out over her, covering her naked body with my clothed one, brushing her hair back from her face.
“I don’t think I’m good enough for you, you know that. And I’m going to frustrate and confuse you, just like you said. Maybe it’s the OCD, maybe I’m just difficult—I have no fucking clue. But I won’t deserve all the chances you’ll have to give me.”
She wrapped her legs around me and took my face in her hands. “I’m going to give them, though. And if that makes me a fool, well…” She smiled. “At least I’ll be your fool.”
I buried my face in her neck, not at all sure I wouldn’t tear up. “Mine,” I said hoarsely, kissing my way down her chest.
“Yours,” she whispered, arching her back when I took the tip of one breast in my mouth. “Yours,” she whimpered a few minutes later when I licked two fingers and circled them over her clit, slid them inside her pussy. “Yours,” she cried a few minutes later as I brought her to orgasm with my hand, my teeth biting down on one hardened nipple.
I hated taking my lips from her skin even briefly, but somehow she managed to pull off my shirt, and undo my jeans. After shoving them off, I settled between her thighs again, sliding my cock along her clit.
She dug her heels into my legs and clawed at my back. “Inside me. Please. I miss you there already.”
Another time I might have teased her, made her wait a little longer, but this morning I just wanted to do as she asked. Our mouths were open and hot and panting against one another’s as I slid inside her and began to move, slowly at first, reveling in every inch of slick, tight friction. She writhed and bucked beneath me, grabbing my ass with both hands, pulling me in deep and gasping in pain when I stabbed too deep.
“Too hard? I don’t want to hurt you,” I whispered, but my hips rocked harder and faster, taking orders from her hands.
“You won’t, you won’t,” she said, her eyes shiny and wild. “I love it deep like that. You have no idea how good it feels.”
I almost laughed. “I do, I promise.”
“Oh, God.” She picked up her head, burying it in the crook of my neck, licking my throat, lifting her hips to meet mine thrust for thrust, driving me to the breaking point. “You make me come so easily, it’s like fucking magic.”
“Yes. Come with me,” I growled low in her ear, feeling that invincibility surge inside me. “Come hard on my cock, let me feel it.”
“Yes!” Her climax hit and she dug her nails in deep and held on tight, her lower body going stiff as I drove inside her, again and again. Then I buried myself as deep as I could, coming long and hard, and still felt like I wanted more of her, wanted to give her more of me. I miss you there already, she’d said, and I hadn’t even been inside her yet. But I knew exactly what she meant.
Even as I held her trembling body close to mine, I mourned the inevitable loss of her.
Nothing gold can stay.
“Hello?”
“Hello, I’m calling for Mia Fournier.” I tried to sound less nervous than I felt. Sebastian and even Natalie had encouraged me to make this call on Monday, but it had taken me three more days to work up the nerve. I wanted to be prepared in case she asked about experience, a college degree, why I’d been fired from Rivard, or even Save a Horse, on the off chance she’d watched.
“This is Mia.”
I took a breath. “This is Skylar Nixon. I got your card from my friend Sebastian Pryce, and—”
“Oh, at the law firm! Yes! Lucas mentioned you might be calling.”
I smiled, relieved that she knew who I was. “Yes. I understand you’re interviewing for an assistant?”
“I am. Are you interested in the position?”
“Yes,” I said, biting my tongue before I added, but I’m not sure I’m qualified.
“Great. Can you interview next week?”
I told her I could, and we set up an interview at Abelard for nine AM Tuesday. I’d have to make sure I got that day off from Coffee Darling, but since Natalie was so supportive, I didn’t think she’d mind.
I went to bed that night happy but fretful, making a list on my phone of all the things I needed to do—print out a resume, plan my outfit, research Abelard Vineyards. Frowning at the screen, I tried to think of what I was missing.
“Stop worrying. She’s going to love you.” Sebastian turned back the sheet and climbed into his bed, where I was sitting up cross-legged, my phone in my lap.
I didn’t look up. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Stop.” He grabbed my phone and hid it behind his back.
“Hey!” I got to my knees and tried to get it back.
“Enough,” he said, holding it out of reach. “You have to get up too early to be doing this right now.”
“Come on, give it back. I need it.” I made several unsuccessful attempts to get it, and he laughed.
“You don’t. You need to relax, I can see it on your face. Don’t make me tie you up.”
Sighing, I sat back on my heels. “Very funny.”
“You’re fucking adorable when you pretend to be angry with me.” He set my phone on his nightstand and tackled me, throwing me onto my back. Now that we spent so much time together, I knew why his body was so hot—he went to the gym every fucking day! I was a slug compared to him. And he worked at the law firm a lot too. He’d worked a full day every day this week, and then worked out after that. We didn’t see each other until dinner time or later, which was why I ended up spending the night so much.
It wasn’t that I missed him so badly the two nights we spent apart I could hardly sleep. Nope. No way.
I squealed as I landed, grappling with him but laughing as he pinned my wrists to the bed near my shoulders. “Not a fair fight at all.”
“Nope.” He kissed me, his lips and tongue a soft contrast to the hard strength of his hands cuffing my wrists. “My sister-in-law wants to meet you.”
“Oh?” A little thrill moved through my body.
“Yes. She came into the office this afternoon.” He kissed me again, on the lips first, then the neck and chest over the t-shirt of his I’d taken to sleeping in. “She asked if I’d like to bring you to their house for dinner.”
“And what did you say?”
He barely took his mouth of me. “I said fuck no, you have terrible table manners.”
I rolled my eyes and kicked my legs at him. “You’re so mean. Get off me.”
“OK.” He flipped to his back, dragging me on top of him, holding my wrists above his head. “Better?”
“Mmmmm.” Was I mad at him? I forgot. I drew my legs astride his hips, and slanted my mouth over his. As the kiss deepened, I rocked my hips against his thickening cock, feeling desire spark at my center. God, I was beginning to think I was a fiend, the way we’d been going at it almost every night this week. Last night I’d slept alone in my old bed, and I’d been so lonesome for him I had to get myself off with my fingers like a lust-crazed teenager, and I still felt totally unsatisfied.
I’d been really good about taking my pill, but even so, in the back of my mind I wondered if any hormonal treatment would be strong enough to fend off his crazy smart, super ripped sperm. And holy shit, what would I do then? “I’ll be right back,” I whispered.
He didn’t stop me from going for the ladder, which told me he probably knew what I needed to do. My pills were in my purse, which was downstairs, so it was a couple minutes before I climbed up again. The lamp was still burning, and the sight of shirtless Sebastian waiting for me in bed, on his back, the sheet pulled up to his hips, outline of his cock clearly visible, nearly made me trip over my own feet.
Grinning, I jumped on him, straddling his hips again, my hands on his warm, hard chest. He grabbed the hem of the shirt I wore. “Not that I don’t love seeing you in my clothes, but I love it even more when you’re naked.”
I happily whipped off the shirt and tossed it aside, leaving only my panties between us. Sebastian, I discovered, always slept naked.
No complaints here.
His hands moved to my ass as I leaned down to kiss him, my breasts brushing over his chest. He moaned, his tongue stroking between my lips, his hips lifting to push up against me. I moved my body over his, sliding my clit along his thick, hard cock, feeling my underwear grow damp.
“Take them off.” His voice was low and firm.
I smiled down at him. “Fiend.”
“For you I am.”
I bit my lip. “Did you miss me last night?”
“So much I could hardly stand it.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Me too. What’s with us? Is it because the sex is so good?” Then I panicked. “I mean, it’s good for me…I hope it’s good for you.”
He spanked me lightly. “Stop. It’s amazing for me, and you know it. I can’t get enough.”
That put the grin back on my face and I swung one leg over so I could work my panties down my legs. I was so anxious to feel his cock hit The Spot I left them hanging around one ankle as I straddled him again. But he had another idea.
Shimmying down the bed until his head was between my knees, he looked up at me. “I used to lie awake at night and think about doing this to you.” He kissed one inner thigh and then the other, rubbing his scruffy cheek against the sensitive skin there before wiggling down even further and dragging his tongue up my center.
I shivered, falling forward to grip the simple wooden headboard. “Oh God, Sebastian. Your tongue is just…” But I couldn’t even find a word for it. Light and colors danced behind my closed eyelids as I dropped my head back, undulating my hips over his mouth. His arms looped over my legs, pulling me tighter to his face, and when I looked down I almost lost it at the sight of those gorgeous green eyes in the V between my legs.
“Fuck,” I breathed as he worked my clit with the tip of his tongue. “I didn’t even know enough to imagine this. I had no idea it was even possible to feel this good.” It was true—I’d been with some really good-looking guys, but somehow being incredibly handsome didn’t always correlate to being that skilled in bed. Natalie and I had a theory that slightly less attractive guys were probably better lovers because they had to work harder for it. Like she once confessed that Dan had kind of a small dick but was pretty good with his hands.
Sebastian, however, had everything.
Everything.
Including his tongue buried in my pussy.
And when the tension at my core whirled into a vortex too powerful for my body to contain, he moaned along with me as I rode out my orgasm above him, grinding unabashedly against his face.
When the spasms had stopped I moved down his body, prepared to take him in my mouth, but he deftly flipped me onto my back and pinned my wrists by my head. In the lamplight I could see his shiny lips and chin, and my insides clenched with aftershocks. He kissed me hard and deep, his mouth open wide over mine. I tasted myself and him and us and sex and it was warm and sweet and I opened my legs for him, desperate to feel him enter my body and drive us both into another mad frenzy.
He glided in easily, and I tilted my hips to take him deep. When he was buried inside, he paused and looked down at me, and I thought he was going to say something but he didn’t. He just kept his eyes on mine as he started to move, his hips rolling like ocean waves over mine. I strained up against him, pressing closer with my chest, lifting my hips.
“I missed you so much last night,” I whispered, every nerve ending in my body on fire. “I touched myself and thought of you.”
“I did the same,” he said, the muscles in his arms flexing as he braced himself above me. “Twice.”
I smiled, deliriously happy. “You win.”
• • •
I spent the weekend working for Natalie and preparing for my interview. On Saturday after work, I went over to Jillian’s condo and she helped me put together my resume and print it on good paper. I wasn’t even sure Mia Fournier would ask for it, and it wasn’t terribly impressive anyway, but at least it had some references on it and accounted for my education and the last five years of my life.
Kind of sad I only needed half a page for that stuff.
“Are you sure I should list Miranda Rivard?” I scrunched up my face when I saw her name on the test copy we’d printed.
“She said it was fine, right?” Jillian set down a cup of tea for me.
“Yeah. I guess so.” I’d called her the day before to ask her permission, and she’d said it was fine and she’d be honest about my good performance and the reason I was asked to leave. I didn’t love that second bit, but I had to list someone from Chateau Rivard if I wanted to put my time there on my resume, short-lived as it was. “What do you think?”
Jillian looked over my shoulder, sipping her tea. “Let’s go a little bigger with your name and move your contact information here.” She pointed to a different place on the page.
“OK.” It was small stuff, trivial even, but everything about the way I presented myself would be important, I knew that. After making the suggested changes, I printed it again. “Now how does it look?”
She picked it up off the printer and studied it while I got up to fetch the honey from her cupboard. I spooned some into my tea and stirred it up, then I sucked on the spoon. Oh Jesus. My tongue is sore. I laughed quietly to myself, turning my back to Jillian as I recalled the spectacular feats of fellatio I’d performed last night in the rowboat, which we’d taken out for a late night cruise.
When I turned around, Jillian was looking at me funny. “What?”
“What are you laughing about over there?”
“Nothing.” I dropped my eyes to my tea and quickly sat down again.
“That is not a nothing face. That is an I-did-something-naughty face. Trust me, I’m the big sister. I know that face of yours.”
I grinned, lifting my tea to my lips. “Guilty.”
“So?”
“I have a very sore tongue muscle today.”
Jillian’s dark, high-arched brows shot up. “You do? And how’s his tongue?”
“I’d be surprised if he can talk normally. I can barely walk normally.”
“Oh my god,” she groaned, fanning herself. “You’re so lucky. Damn.”
“I know.” I picked up the resume. “So this looks good, you think?” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spill to her, I just felt protective of what Sebastian and I had together. It was so new, and felt so fragile.
“Yes. It’s fine. I want to hear more about the guy.” She propped her chin on her hand and looked at me dreamily. “I need to live vicariously.”
“Jill. Come on. You’re beautiful. You’re a doctor. Where are all the beautiful male doctors I see on soap operas?”
She rolled her eyes. “Married. Or fucking nurses. Or fucking anyone else they want to because they’re too busy to have a relationship.” Sighing, she sat up straight again. “And I guess I am, too. It just gets a little lonely sometimes.”
“So fuck a hot doctor for fun.”
“A year or two ago, I would have. I did. But now I think I’ll hold out for something better. What about you? Is this going somewhere, you think?”
I shrugged, but couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “I don’t know. Feels like maybe.”
“Like maybe? Is there long term potential there?” She brought her cup to her lips.
I rolled my eyes. “Jillian, it’s only been like ten days. I don’t even know what he’s thinking long term for himself. And he… once said something about not believing in the one.”
Her brow wrinkled. “The one?”
“Yeah, you know. The one. The idea that there’s one perfect person for you and you have to find her or him.”
“Ah, a soul mate,” she said. “Very romantic idea. But I’m not sure it’s real, either.”
Glancing around at her clean, modern condo, I wondered if she ever pictured living here with someone else, or if she was content to live alone. “I don’t know what I believe. But I do know he sends mixed signals…when he first talked about his cabin I got the feeling he really enjoyed the solitude, but he always wants me to sleep there now, even if I have to get up crazy early for work the next morning and he has to drive me.”