Текст книги "Nowhere but Here"

Автор книги: Renee Carlino

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry you had to lose your mother so young.”

I hugged him and then he shook Jamie’s hand before we all walked out into the brisk air.

We walked three blocks before it started raining. I grabbed Jamie’s hand and pulled him up the stairs to the nearest L station.

“Are you sure, Kate? I can get us a cab.”

“No. I’m doing this. I’m changing this memory.” Somehow the meeting with Paul had reinvigorated me.

The train stopped in front of us as we stood shaking on the platform. We were soaking wet and freezing. I pulled him in through the doors by his jacket, pushed him up against a pole, and pressed my mouth to his, kissing him urgently. He cupped my face and kissed me back with so much intensity I thought we’d combust. When we pulled apart, he held my face and said, “This is why I love you. You’re amazing.”

“This is how I want to remember the L. If we move away and I never come back here again, this is how I will remember it, kissing you sopping wet.” I laughed. He kissed me again and then we held each other until it was time to get off.

Back at my apartment, it took Jamie exactly three minutes to Google Samuel Morrison. He lived in the city, less than two miles from me. The thought that my possible father lived two miles from me and didn’t even care tortured me and made me not want to seek him out, but Jamie insisted I call. I knew he was right. It would eat away at me if I didn’t at least try to find my real father.

After a few rings, he picked up, and my heart started beating wildly. I had no idea what to expect.

“Hello?”

“May I speak with Samuel Morrison?”

“Speaking.” I paused, swallowing a huge lump in my throat. “Hello?” he said again.

“My name is Kate Corbin. I’m Ann Corbin’s daughter.” Jamie nodded at me, encouraging me to go on. “My mother passed away when I was eight. I never knew who my father was, but now I have reason to believe it’s you.”

His voice became very low and serious. “I’m sorry for your loss. I did know your mother. I was engaged to her, in fact, but I can assure you that I’m not your father.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I was never with your mother intimately. She was pregnant when I met her. I didn’t know until we were about to be married. She wanted to keep you, but I couldn’t live with the thought of raising another man’s child, so we broke it off.” I held the phone to my ear, speechless. “Kate?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not a bad person. I cared for her. In fact, I stayed in touch with her through the pregnancy. She went looking for your father when she was close to having you, but he had moved on. I don’t think she ever told him. She said that she could do it on her own. I believed her. She was a strong woman.”

Everything was starting to come together, and the truth was finally within my grasp.

“Is my father Paul Sullivan?”

“Yes, I believe he is.”

My biological father was the handsome man I had met at Starbucks just an hour before. The beloved, award-winning, bestselling author. I looked up and could see that Jamie was just as shocked as I was. His eyes were huge, and then he looked at me curiously before smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you, Mr. Morrison. I have to go. Good-bye.”

As soon as I ended the call, Jamie wrapped me up. “Oh my god, baby. Your dad is the Paul Sullivan.”

“But he doesn’t know. What if he doesn’t want me?”

“We just call him and tell him the story and see what he says. Now that I think about it, there was a resemblance. His ears stuck out just like yours,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

“My ears don’t stick out, jerk.”

“They do, just a little. It’s actually pretty cute.” He picked up the phone and handed it to me. “Well . . . time to call Paul.”

“I can’t, Jamie—I’m scared.”

“You’ve been through a lot, baby. Come here.” He took me into his arms and held me while he spoke softly in my ear. “You’re one of the bravest people I know. You can do this. I know he’ll want you in his life. How could he not?” He gently pushed me away from him and looked down at me, bracing my shoulders. “You’re amazing.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Jamie handed me the phone. I dialed the number and waited with my stomach in knots for an answer. “Hello?”

“Hi Paul, it’s Kate. I have something to tell you . . .”

Page 17
The Situation

There are moments when clear images finally begin to emerge within the abstract painting of your life. For me, it was the moment I picked up the phone to call Paul. I saw myself in Chicago and Napa surrounded by Jamie, Beth, Jerry, and Dylan—the people who had been with me through my darkest hours—and I realized that all I ever wanted and yearned for was already within my grasp. I wanted a career I could feel passionate about. I had my novel. I wanted love and lust and everything that comes with it. I had Jamie. I wanted to fight hard, love hard, and live hard. But more than anything, I wanted a family to share my life with. I had that, too, even if they weren’t my blood. Everything I wanted already existed within my life. The death of my mother and Rose, my constant reinterpretations of my dream about Rose, and my relationship with Just Bob had paralyzed me in a place of fear and isolation. I had believed I was all I had and all I needed. It was easier that way. But Jamie was right. I was scared to live, to be happy, to take what I deserved.

Once my entire life was laid out for me during that critical moment of clarity, I was immediately grateful for all the traumatic and painful experiences. If I hadn’t lived in the fucking darkness, I never would have seen the light. Now I was finally facing that light, fearless, ready to walk into it and take my happiness.

“Paul . . . I think you might be my father. Actually, I know you are, and I wanted to tell you that if you’re open to it and comfortable, I’d like to get to know you.”

I could sense Paul’s emotion over the phone. “I was just going to call you, Kate.” His voice cracked. I was trembling and Jamie was watching me cautiously. “On my way back home after meeting you, it struck me that you had never heard about Samuel. There would have been no reason for your mother to hide him from you. I got this feeling . . . I thought about the timing and your age. You look just like your mom, you know, but there’s something in your smile that I see in my youngest daughter. Even more obvious, you, my dear, were blessed with the Sullivan ears.”

“My boyfriend said the same thing,” I said, laughing and crying at the same time. Jamie mouthed the word fiancé at me. I walked over and sat on his lap. He kissed my back and rubbed my shoulders while I continued talking to Paul. My father.

“When I got home, I told my wife, Elaine, that I had a feeling. I told her the story. She’s very excited to meet you.” There was a long pause. He cleared his throat and went on. “I am so sorry that I wasn’t in your life sooner, Kate, but I promise you, I will do everything I can to make up for lost time.”

It’s fair to say that by that point I was hysterical. All I could blubber was, “I’m a writer, too.”

“I know. I looked you up . . .” His voice was shaky, and he was crying with me. “I’m . . . I’m very proud of you. None of my other kids . . . I’m just so happy. Please come and have Christmas dinner with us tomorrow? You can meet your brothers and sisters.”

“Tell me about them.”

He took a deep breath. “Well, you have a sister, Olivia, who is twenty-five. She has twin boys that are a year old. You’re an aunt.”

I laughed giddily through tears. “Go on.”

“Your brother Aiden is twenty-three. He’s engaged to Lauralie, who’s pregnant. A little young, we know, but they’re in love. And then Gavin is twenty-one. He goes to college in Los Angeles at USC, but he’s here for the holidays. Blake is twenty, and he’s still finding himself,” he said, in an amused tone. “And finally, there’s Skylar, the youngest. She’s seventeen and still in high school. She’s the free spirit—a very gifted pianist.”

“Wow. I’m speechless. I’ve lived all my life thinking I had no family.”

“Well, you have a big family, and I know they will welcome the addition. What do you say? Come and meet everyone?”

“Yes, I definitely will.”

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart. I can’t wait to get to know you.”

“Likewise,” I said in a low voice and then hung up. I turned around and straddled Jamie in the chair and then buried my face in his neck and sobbed. “Happy tears?” he asked.

“The happiest. Will you go with me?”

“Of course.”

We slid into bed, naked and freezing, but within moments we were warm, wrapped up in each other, and dozing off to sleep. I woke up Christmas morning to the smell of breakfast. Jamie was making pancakes and singing to the Black Keys pumping through the iPod dock.

When I came into his view, he shouted, “Merry Christmas, lover” over the loud music. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but his plaid flannel pajamas. I was wearing the slinky black Victoria’s Secret purchase I’d made with Beth. I walked around the counter so he could see me from head to toe. His mouth dropped open.

“Oh my god. Screw breakfast.” When he lifted me from my waist, I wrapped my legs around him. He slammed me against the dining room wall and attacked my mouth just as the lead singer of the Black Keys shouted, “I got mine!” Best sex song EVER! I thought.

After Jamie took me against the wall, we ate our partially burnt breakfast and then showered and got dressed.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah.”

“I feel terrible. I didn’t get you anything.”

“You mean that thing you were wearing earlier wasn’t for me?”

I laughed. “Well, yes, I guess so.”

“I have a photographic memory, remember? That little number will be the gift that keeps on giving. Trust me.”

He was standing at my dresser injecting his insulin pen. When he turned around, he had a small box in his hands. “This is for you, but you can’t open it until later.” I made a grumpy face. “Oh, is Katy curious?”

“No, I can handle a little suspense.”

We decided we would go through the city looking for the holiday train before we headed to my father’s house, which was located in a little suburb just outside Chicago.

As we headed out the lobby of my building, I noticed a sign above the exit door was misspelled. It said: MARRY CHRISTMAS. I laughed to myself. Two blocks away, another sign sitting in the coffee shop window said: MARRY CHRISTMAS.

“Do you see that?” I pointed the sign out to Jamie.

“What?”

“It’s spelled wrong.”

“Oh, hmm. Idiots.” He chuckled and pulled me along by the hand. As we approached the L station nearest to my apartment, I spotted Darlene. She was wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a piece of cardboard. When I got close to her, she said, “Hey, you, girl. Say yes!” I looked up at Jamie. He shrugged and then looked up to the sky curiously.

“Merry Christmas, Darlene.” I handed her a ten-dollar bill. “Stay warm.”

“Thank you,” she said.

We continued walking. I stopped abruptly about a half a block down and turned to Jamie. “What are you up to? Huh?”

“Who, me?” he said in mock surprise. “Let’s go, we gotta hurry.” He yanked me along.

“Why do we have to hurry?”

“We just do.”

“When we got to the platform of the station, it began to snow. “I planned this,” Jamie said.

And then lo and behold, the goddamned holiday train pulled up. “You arranged this?”

He pulled me toward Santa’s car. “No, silly girl, there’s a schedule.”

“You’re kidding? All these years?!”

Just as we reached Santa, Jamie stopped and looked me in the eye and said, “Merry Christmas, angel.”

Then Santa chimed in, “Ho ho ho, marry him!”

Jamie pointed a thumb back toward Santa as he stood in front of me. “That, I planned,” he said. Then he dropped to his knee, pulled the box out, and opened it, revealing a modest pink stone on a platinum band. “Sorry, honey, no blood diamonds for you.” I shook my head and laughed. “Marry me?”

“Jamie Lawson . . . is that how you ask nicely?”

“Katherine Corbin, will you please marry me and be my wife and wear that black silky thing at least twice a week for the rest of our lives?”

I dropped to my knees, gripped his face, and kissed him. “Absolutely, one hundred percent yes. And that was a way better proposal than a note.”

People all around us on the platform began clapping and cheering. Even Santa was jollier than usual. Jamie put the ring on my finger and then we stood together and rushed onto the train car. Powdered in snow, we kissed the moment the doors closed and made a silent promise that we would do that every time we got on the L. It was our new beautiful memory.

• • •

We rented a car and headed north. Paul Sullivan, my father, lived in a gorgeous, two-story colonial house in the village of Wilmette, a tranquil little suburb north of Chicago. The treelined street and large snow-covered homes were picturesque, an ideal place to grow up. I felt a pang of sadness as we pulled down the long driveway. I wondered if it was resentment toward my mother or just pure envy that all of my father’s other kids got to grow up here while I was living in a one-bedroom, stuffy apartment with a depressed Rose. I thought about the many nights I’d slept on the pullout sofa, wishing I had my own room. Still, I couldn’t forget that Rose had loved me like a mother.

Before we got out of the car, Jamie looked over at me with concern. “Are you okay? You seem somewhere else.”

“I’m here, I assure you. I’m here. This hurts a little. I can’t figure out why my mother didn’t want me to know.”

He took my hand and kissed the back of it. “You may never know the reason, and I can tell you from experience that you have to let it go. When my biological parents tried to extort money from me, they told lie after lie. They tried to take me down—their own flesh and blood– when all I wanted was to do good for people. For months, I just kept wondering why. Finally, my adoptive mother told me I needed to stop searching for that answer and move forward. When the trial was over, I promised myself I would never ask why again. Look at this, Kate. See all of these cars?” The driveway and street were spilling over with cars jammed into every spot around the big white house. “This is what you get now. This is amazing. Don’t think about the past ever again.”

Although he tried very hard to hide it, Jamie was emotional. I couldn’t take what I had for granted knowing Jamie had lost most of his family. “Does it still hurt?” I asked.

“There used to be this hole, this void that I thought could never be filled, but it’s healing and filling up . . . ever since I met you.”

“And now you have all this, too.” I gestured toward the cars and smiled.

Meeting my new family was a blur of faces and names. My new siblings and stepmother were more than welcoming. I got to hold my baby nephew and hear my youngest sister, Skylar, play the piano beautifully. Jamie fit right in to the warmth. I stole glances at him often while we were at my father’s, and he always returned them with a smile.

On our way back into the city, we talked about our plan. “I feel like I don’t want to leave now, but I know you need to be in Napa.”

“We don’t have to choose, Kate. We can live in both places. That’s the beauty of being a writer.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve always been all over the place. I like it that way.”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course. Do you want to keep your apartment?”

“I don’t care about my apartment. I just want to be able to come here once in a while.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

Page 18
Segue

In the week following Christmas, I spent most of my time packing and writing while Jamie made travel plans for us to go back to Napa after New Year’s. We decided that we’d have our wedding at the winery in the spring, barring any unforeseen circumstances. Jamie said there would be no unforeseen anything, and that I needed to stop believing things were too good to be true. He spent a lot of time reassuring me that everything would be okay.

Late in the week one morning, I heard him tinkering in the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” He was dressed, ready, and waiting for me to get up.

He set a chocolate croissant and a latte from Starbucks in front of me. “Morning, baby. I was so excited, I couldn’t sleep.”

I sat down at the table surrounded by boxes. “Excited about what?”

“I can’t tell you.” He was amped. “I just have to show you, but we can’t go until nine.”

I bit into the pastry. “Aren’t those the best?” he said.

“Did you eat one?”

“Yeah.” By that point he was at the counter checking his blood sugar with the meter. “Holy shit,” he said and then reached for his insulin pen. He gave himself a shot and then sat down next to me at the table. He still seemed a little hyper, but then I brought him down as soon as I opened my mouth.

“Are you worried that your children will get it?”

“Our children?”

“Yes.”

“Are you worried, Kate?”

“You’re the one living with it. Should I be worried?”

“If, God forbid, one of our children gets it, then I would be able to help them learn to live a pretty normal life. Despite the fact that neither one of my parents had it, they were still able to help me live the healthiest possible lifestyle. But, if that scares you too much, then we can adopt. I think we should anyway. I want a big family.”

“I think I do, too, and I won’t be scared if you’re not. I trust you.”

“Okay.” He leaned over and kissed my nose. “Now what’s the plan for tonight?”

“I told Dylan and Ashley if you were up for it that we’d meet them on the roof at midnight and drink champagne and bang pots and pans or whatever.”

“Sounds perfect.”

After I showered and got ready, we grabbed a cab and headed into the upscale Gold Coast neighborhood. We stopped in front of a building that I’m pretty sure was owned by Oprah. Jamie led me through the lobby toward the elevator. He inserted a key and pressed the button for the penthouse. We entered a vacant foyer and walked down a hall until we were standing in a large loft-style room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Michigan. The floors were a warm and inviting hardwood. Even though the space was empty, something about it felt like home. Maybe it was that I could see so much of my beloved city, or maybe it was because I was standing there with Jamie.

“So you want to buy this place?”

“Want to buy?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“What, then?”

He just stared at me with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He shrugged and then rocked back a few times on his heels.

I squinted, scowling at him. “You! You already bought it?”

“Bingo.” He smirked, and oh, that goddamned dimple.

“For me?” I shrieked.

“Uh-huh. Well, for us, silly girl.”

“Oh my god, how much did this cost?”

His lips flattened. “Not very much, and anyway, I need the write-off.”

“Not very much by whose standard?”

“Katy, stop, seriously. There’s an amazing loft that will be the perfect place for you to read and write. Come see.” I followed him through an insanely clean and ultramodern gourmet kitchen to an open staircase and loft lined with bookshelves. There was a large window in the loft with the same gorgeous view looking out onto the lake. I was mesmerized; I couldn’t take my eyes off the water. The white outline from the snow and ice piled on the shore reflected so brightly, I had to squint. It was uncharacteristically sunny for that time of year. I imagined the snow melting and breaking away into the glimmering, still water.

“It’s beautiful.” I turned to see him watching me.

“It is now,” he said.

I smiled all the way to my ears. “Should we christen it?”

He stalked over to me, braced my neck, kissed me thoroughly, and then murmured, “Katy, you dirty girl,” right into my ear.

I grabbed his butt. “Well?”

He pulled back and took a loud, deep breath. “I’m sorry, baby. I need to eat. I’m feeling a little weak.” Jamie never complained about his diabetes, and because of that I wasn’t that aware of its impact on our lives. He was determined not to use an insulin pump, so I knew he was cautious. Exerting himself would make his blood sugar even lower.

I ran my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and gazed into his eyes. He held me around the waist. I cocked my head to the side and stared dreamily at him.

“What?” he asked.

“I have a Balance bar in my purse. Do you want it?” He smiled kindly and nodded. “I love you, Jamie. Thank you for this. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I love you, too.”

We started moving very gradually in a circle, still embracing each other, slow dancing to the sound of our beating hearts.

Remember playing hide-and-seek as a kid? You would run full speed away from the one who was “it.” Every time you played, you thought you’d found the best hiding place. You would sit, shaking with anticipation because even though the object of the game was the opposite, all you really wanted was to be found. You wanted to be found by the one who was “it.” For months, I had been hiding. I had run so far and hidden so well, I thought no one would find me, but then he did.

I had been only half awake until Jamie came into my life. I know now that it’s true, what they say: love cannot be taken out of you because it changes you. I woke up when I met Jamie. The world became louder, crazier, more exciting, and more achingly beautiful.

“Do you think it will always be like this?”

“I think there will be times when we’ll have to work at it.” He paused. “I’m willing to do that until the day I die if it means I get to hold you like this.”

• • •

On our way back to my apartment, I gave Jamie a good laugh when he asked if I was going to give him the New Year’s Eve kiss he’d always wanted.

“Well, I’m not gonna be kissing Dylan, not that he’s a bad kisser.”

“How would you know?” He seemed shocked but was still smiling.

“One day, Dylan and I went down to the basement laundry room and walked in on Stephen making out with some girl. This was in my ‘woe is me’ phase, mind you. Anyway, Dylan felt sorry for me so he pressed me against the wall and kissed me in front of the bimbo and Stephen. He put on a pretty good show.”

Jamie was clutching his heart, laughing hysterically. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I swear to God.”

He shook his head. “What a good guy.”

“Totally.”

“But he better keep his hands off you.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

Later that night, after kissing Jamie on the roof and toasting to the New Year with Dylan and Ashley, we were in bed by 12:10 on the dot. I woke up a few hours later to find Jamie gone from our bed. I discovered him in the living room, swaying and disoriented.

“Jamie, are you looking for your meter?”

For a second, when he looked up, it seemed like he didn’t recognize me, and then finally he spoke. He sounded like a frightened child. “Katy?”

I went to him and pulled him to sit on the couch. “Yes, baby, I’m here.”

“I feel nauseous.”

“Let me find your meter.” I got up and immediately found it on the counter. I rushed to him and nervously fumbled with the lancets for a few seconds until I finally pricked his finger and put the blood onto the meter tab. The screen read twenty. “You’re very low, baby. Hold on.” I ran into the kitchen and poured orange juice into a cup and then took it to him. He seemed extremely weak as he reached for it.

“I’m okay, Katy.”

“You need to eat.” I went to the kitchen and threw graham crackers, nuts, a cereal bar, a banana and some cheese on a plate. It took me less than thirty seconds. I ran it over to him and could tell he was already a bit more lucid.

He laughed. “What’s all this?”

“I didn’t know what you would feel like.”

“You are such a sweetheart.”

“Did this ever happen to you when you were alone?”

“If I felt low at night, it would wake me up. I would keep the meter by my bed. I think it must have been the combination of the long day and then the champagne. I’m glad I was here with you.”

“Me too.”

After he ate and we checked his blood sugar again, he fell asleep on the couch with his head in my lap. I sat there for part of the night, unable to sleep. I thought about Jamie and I together, going to Napa, getting married, starting a family, and coming back to Chicago every now and then. It started to become impossible to imagine my life without him. The ending to my book was the beginning of my life. It was the story of us, and how we came to be. What started out as a journey for one girl who kept herself hidden in the darkness became the story of two souls connected and growing together in the light. I couldn’t imagine exactly what the future looked like for us or where in the world we would be, but I knew that none of it mattered because we were becoming a part of each other. There was no other place but where we were, as long as we were together.

In the morning, Jamie asked me about birth control. We hadn’t talked about it, and I assumed he was leaving it up to me. I had an idea of where Jamie stood on the matter.

“I haven’t been using any. Should I?”

“No,” was all I said. He squinted his eyes curiously, and he flashed me a small, tight smile before looking back down at his magazine.

Jamie rented a car and decided we would road-trip it back to Napa since I would be taking some of my belongings. We moved everything else from my place to the new gorgeous apartment Jamie bought, and then we left Chicago. We hoped that we would see everyone at our wedding in the spring.

We got to know each other in every possible way as we drove to southern California before heading up to Napa. We stayed in a cute boutique hotel in downtown San Diego overlooking the gorgeous bay near the East Village. We stopped into a restaurant called the Cowboy Star. Jamie went off to the restroom while I took a seat at the bar. I ordered a martini called a Mae West from their cocktail menu, and then a few moments later I heard Jamie behind me ask for a glass of the Lawson Pinot. I turned around and smiled. “Good choice, sailor.”

He sat on the stool next to me and held his hand out. “I’m Jamie.”

“Kate,” I said, as I shook his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He bowed his head very slightly.

“That’s a very sexy wine you ordered.”

“Agreed. I know a little bit about it. I’m R. J. Lawson.”

“Get outta here.” I socked him in the arm.

He laughed. “It’s no lie.”

“But you said your name was . . .”

“Jamie. That’s right. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Jamie, huh? So we’re friends?”

“I’d like to be.” His gaze fell to my mouth.

I took a sip of my martini and worked very hard not to crack a smile. “Well, I’m Kate Corbin. I used to be a reporter for a newspaper, and I would have killed for an exclusive with you.”

“Sounds quite violent of you, Kate, but what the hell, I’m exclusively yours . . . Ask away.”

“I said I used to be a reporter.”

“Oh . . . I see. What do you do now?”

“I’m writing a book, actually, and I could use some inspiration.”

“How can I be of service to you?”

“Why don’t you tell me something about yourself that I won’t find on Wikipedia. Like, what’s next for you?”

“What’s next for me? Hmm . . . Just one thing?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“Okay, I’m hoping that by some serendipitous miracle I will end up in bed with an angel tonight.”

Looking sharply at him, I shook my head. “Seems impossible, and anyway, what fun is that? Angels are so pure.”

“Okay, maybe a mildly naughty angel.”

“What will you do with her?”

He arched his eyebrows, leaned in, and whispered, “Would you like a preview of what I would do to her?”

“Yes!” I practically shouted at him. My heart was racing, and I could feel the beginning of that pulsing ache between my legs.

He shook his head back and forth very slowly. “No, we only just met. I think we should take it slow.”

“What?” My voice got really high.

“Yeah, I mean, telling you, a complete stranger, a reporter no less, my innermost thoughts and feeling . . . I don’t know, it just seems a little reckless.”

“Is that how you want to play it?” I said before downing my entire martini in two gulps. He didn’t respond. He just watched me as I looked at the time on my phone and then reached into my purse and grabbed a ten-dollar bill. I threw it on the bar, waved to the bartender, and hopped off my stool.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m calling it a night. I hope you find your angel.” I winked at him.

He followed me all the way back to the hotel and then stepped in front of me to open the large glass door.

“Ma’am.”

“Sir, are you following me?”

He walked beside me toward the elevator. “I’m stalking you,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to stalk you for the rest of my life.”

We stepped in and the doors closed. “Sounds terrifying.”

He pushed me against the wall and tried to kiss me, but I dodged his face back and forth. We started laughing. “For the love of god, let me kiss you.”

“I don’t kiss on the first date.”

“You had sex with me eighteen different ways on our first date.”

The elevator doors opened and I hurried out. “That wasn’t really our first date.”

“Okay, how about this, you stripped down and went skinny-dipping with me five hours after you met me.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m charming.”

“You have an ego,” I said as I slipped the key card into the door and pushed it open.

“I like it when you’re a tease.”

I flipped on the lights as the door closed behind Jamie. I threw my purse and coat on a chair and put my hand on my hip. “Okay, then I’ll be a tease more often.”

“I’m lying, I don’t really like it when you’re a tease. Now, get naked,” he said as he tore his clothes off.

I obliged.

We were still naked in the morning, with the covers pulled all the way up to our necks. We were lying on our sides, facing each other and smiling like two lovesick kids. “You know what I find entertaining?”

“Tell me.”

He scowled and then spoke in a deep, steely voice. “Watching you squirm.” He laughed maniacally and then sunk beneath the sheets.

“You will not tickle me!” I protested.

He turned me forcefully so that I was lying flat on my stomach, and then he bit my butt.

“Ouch!”

From under the covers, I heard him mumble, “Oh sorry, baby.” He tore the sheets away and then grabbed my arms and forced them above my head. The light from the window was blaring across the bed. He didn’t move for several seconds, he just hovered, holding my hands tight. My face was resting sideways on the pillow so I could just barely see him in my peripheral vision. “Am I hurting you?”