Out of Grief (10 page)

“And if I’m not happy about that?”

“A week, Quinn. We went months without talking before Steven killed himself. A week should be nothing. Okay?”

“You’re not really giving me a choice, are you?”

She was right. I didn’t want to give her a choice. But I couldn’t come out and say that, could I? “For me? Please.”

“Okay.”

“Good night.”

“Nikki, I … just … I love you.”

“Okay.” I hung up, knowing she wouldn’t. I wasn’t really sure what I had just done. But if I was going to move on, like everyone kept telling me to do. I would have to begin setting boundaries.

***

The week went by without incident, or at least without her breaking the request. And by the seventh day, I was anxious to speak to her; I had grown used to our chats and texts.

I thought the week would do something to extinguish any desire I had, but if cold showers hadn’t done it, why would not talking?

Chapter Twenty-Five

I was grading papers. It was May, and there was still enough of a breeze that I could leave the windows open and be cool enough walking around in a pair of boxers and a wife beater. I had just popped open a cold Black & Tan when the doorbell rang. Not expecting anyone, I checked the peephole. Quinn stood, suitcase beside her, looking like she was about to pop the baby out at any moment.

I opened the door, and she fell in to my arms. “Surprise!”

I thought the hug would be awkward with her baby bump, but somehow we managed, as we always did. We were the two puzzle pieces that fit together no matter what. The warmth of her body in my arms was intoxicating. I tried not to think about how I craved this contact from her. “You look incredible,” I mumbled into her hair.

“Yeah, right!”

How could she say that? Even with bed head, she would still find a way to be beautiful. Or was it just that I found her radiant? “No really, you’re glowing. I never thought that stuff was true, but you are.” I held her at arms’ length and took in the sight of her in shorts and a peasant top flowing over her stomach, now growing with life. “You are absolutely perfect.”

“My mother said I put on too much weight.”

And she wondered why her mother set my teeth on edge. Why would anyone say that? Let alone to a pregnant woman? “Nonsense.” I tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re with child. You’re not fat. You know she makes me crazy when she says shit like that, don’t you?”

“You and me both.”

“Do you want to come in?” I reached for the handle on her bag, and pulled it inside. “So, what brings you to the Big Apple?”

“I missed you.”

There was an undertone to those words that I was trying to place. Something that would make a pregnant woman fly at this stage of the game. I waited, but she wasn’t offering any more information. So, I said the first thing that came to mind. “Have you eaten? I was going to order something. Or I could put some clothes on and we could go out.”

She sat on the leather couch, and slipped her sandals off. “Let’s stay in.”

“Chinese okay?”

“Perfect.”

I picked up my cell phone and placed the order. Quinn usually found her favorite dish in any particular cuisine and then stuck with it, so I knew exactly what to order.

All through dinner, I couldn’t help but feeling that there was something different about Quinn. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was flirting with me. But I did know better than to get my hopes up.

When dinner was through, Quinn said, “I can’t do this without you, you know.”

“Of course you can,” I said, sliding the empty cartons into the plastic bag. “You can do anything you set your mind to. You always have.”

“Okay.” She took my hand. A simple act, one that shouldn’t spur such a strong ache in me, but it always did. The pain was bittersweet, I wanted to pull away, but couldn’t. Even if she would never be mine, I would always be hers, constantly longing for something that I could never have. I stood holding her hand in mine. Her delicate fingers made my hands look awkward in comparison.

She pulled me on to the couch next to her. “Come here, silly.”

I left an arms’ length between us. But she would have none of it. She moved closer, her knees bumped mine, and she took my other hand in hers, and squeezed it. “Then would you accept that I don’t want to do this without you?”

She had to know how much I wanted what she was offering. I spent nights wishing it could be enough. Trying to will myself to not love her quite so much. But it was futile. I had to move, to think. I grabbed the plastic bag and the empty glasses. “Quinn, I have commitments here. I can’t just pick up …”

“I’m not asking you to leave New York,” she said, following me into the kitchen.

“You’re not?”

“Nikki, look at me, please.”

Something in the way she said the word
please
, quietly, like a prayer; no, not a prayer — a wish. I willed myself to turn and look into those brilliant blue pools she called eyes.
I will not drown in them,
I told myself, over and over. There was something in her eyes that wasn’t there before. A storm was brewing. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought it was desire. But I did know better. “Quinn, I—“

Her finger was pressed against my lips, stopping any further comment. “I know you’re afraid, Nikki. Don’t be.”

Just the feel of her fingertip against my lips was intoxicating. “It’s not that I’m afraid …” I took a deep breath, trying to think of the right words that wouldn’t frighten her away for good. “I just … I mean—“

“You want more than just friendship.”

If I confirmed that, would she leave? If she left, would I be able to stand it? No, that was my dilemma. I couldn’t live with her, but I certainly couldn’t survive without her. “Friendship has always been enough.” Even I wasn’t convinced by the words, uttered in a barely audible tone.

She smiled. “But is it now?”

Was this a test? There was no right answer. The one I wanted to give could end any possibility of ever seeing her again. No, no. I would do this. I would be there for her. I had to be. Because, the thought of losing her was more terrifying than anything I knew. “It has to be.”

“But what if I want more?” She punctuated her question by leaning forward.

I felt my breath hitch as I felt her breath, warm against my skin, and then her lips brushed my cheek. “What if we’re finally on the same page?” She murmured against my ear, in a voice that made my entire body cry out for more.

Before I could respond, she kissed me—not a chaste kiss, but a full-blown, mind altering, passionate kiss. Her lips, softer than I had dreamt, crushed against mine. My body responded before I could stop it. I gripped the kitchen counter behind me, afraid that if I didn’t, I would grab on to her and never let go. My whole body was reveling from the feel of her lips against mine. I heard something thumping, and realized it was my heart. Her tongue begged for entry, and I had no choice but to grant it—nothing had ever felt so right. Not even Mary, the woman I had married, who I thought I would be with forever, could compare.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed, when our lips parted. “I never imagined it would be so…”

Fucking amazing!! Please say fucking amazing. My knuckles ached from squeezing the countertop so tight.

“…Amazing. Wow!” She smiled at me. “Hey.” Her fingers were around mine now, prying them from the counter. “You okay?”

She was kidding, right? I could not find words, and if I could, I wasn’t sure what I would say. So I nodded.

“I need you to talk to me, Nik. What’s going on in that overactive mind of yours?” She massaged my palms with her thumbs, as if she knew how sore they were. The touch alone was driving me wild. And then she kissed them. “Talk to me, please.”

“Are you sure this isn’t the hormones—“

“No! This is not because I’m pregnant. Do not belittle this.” She stared directly into my eyes.

Her eyes were dilated, the subtle blue changing color to something I had never seen there before, but something I recognized. Her hands were firmly planted behind my neck now, a thumb stroking the short hairs at the base of my neck, causing me to shiver.

“I love you,” she said, pausing between every word for emphasis. “Tell me you don’t feel the same?”

“You love me?”

“Oh, sweetheart, you had to know that.”

“I mean, I know you love me, but you’re saying you are IN LOVE with me?”

“I am.”

Everything I needed to know was there in her eyes. I cupped her chin in my hand and pulled her to me. I tried to kiss her slowly, gently, to let her know exactly how much I adored her. I had done this before with other women, but none of that mattered now. None of it compared to the knowledge that she wanted this.

The lingering taste of curry on her lips added heat to the moment as our mouths parted and tongues embraced—moving together in an age old erotic dance that made my skin feel like it was on fire.

A finger teased at the edge of my tank top. I thought I would die if she touched me, and I knew I would if she didn’t. Her hands slid under my shirt. Nimble fingers were ghosting across my back making me shiver. She was sliding the shirt up. “Take this off,” she breathed between kisses.

“Bossy, aren’t we?” I gently bit her lip.

She leaned back, and with one swift movement removed her blouse, and dropped it on the floor, leaving only a lacey bra. If there was any doubt before that she was trying to seduce me, that bra was the clincher. Victoria may have had her secrets, but that bra left nothing to the imagination. Taut nipples poked against the black lace, begging to be touched.

“Now you.” She tugged at my tank top.

I complied, knowing full well that once my shirt was off, there would be nothing but my tiny breasts. Before I had a chance to feel self conscious, she said, “Nikki, you’re beautiful.” She ran a fingertip from my shoulder blade, down the side of my breast, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. I had to keep telling myself this was happening, and as if to emphasize the point, she squeezed my breast. I watched her smile at the reaction it caused.

“Not half … as beautiful as … you are,” I managed to breathe.

She cradled my face in her hands and looked directly in to my eyes. “You’ve never known, have you?”

The desire I saw in her eyes was paralyzing. When I didn’t answer, she merely ran her thumbs along the outline of my eyebrows, down my cheekbones, to my lips. “You are like the statues in the museums I love … perfect.”

Without waiting for me to form an answer, she leaned in for another kiss.

When her body pressed against mine, I knew there would be no stopping this. I didn’t want to stop it. I took the opportunity to get rid of the other barrier between our bare skins — reaching behind her, I undid the piece of lace. We had always talked about how small our breasts were. I found it a blessing, she a curse. But now, as her body swelled with life, so did her breasts. I massaged her shoulders, where the straps had left a mark. Each caress of her smooth skin drew a sound from Quinn that was like a drug, intoxicating and addicting. Like a cartographer, I mapped every inch of her, committing to memory the lay of the land for future adventures. Tiny freckles covered her chest above each breast, and I wanted to kiss each and every one of them. “If I do anything you don’t want me to do —”

“There isn’t anything I don’t want you to do, Nikki.”

I felt tears sting my cheeks. People spoke of ‘happy tears,’ but I had never experienced them. That had to be what these were. I pulled her closer, crushing our bodies together. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamt of this?” I whispered in her ear, before gently licking the lobe.

“Since we were … teenagers,” she managed to breathe.

Cool air hit our bodies as I pulled away to see her eyes. They were closed. They popped open, and a puzzled look crept onto her face. “What?”

I moved, while I still had the ability to. Before I turned her and took her right there on the kitchen counter. There would be plenty of time for that later, but it was not how our first time should be. I reached out my hand. “Come to bed with me.”

She took my hand without question and followed me.

My bed was half made, and my research was strewn across the side of the bed that went unoccupied. “Sorry,” I said, “give me a sec.” I gathered everything up and tossed it in the chair that had my work clothes laid out on it. I tried to smooth the wrinkles out of my down comforter, when I felt her at my back.

“Don’t worry.” Her arms were around my waist now, and she kissed my shoulder. “We both know I’m neat enough for both of us.”

I laughed because it was true, and in all of the scenarios that had played out in my head over the year, this was not one of them. “If I had known, I would have had candles and flowers.”

“I know you understand romance. I’ve read your books.” She ran her hands up my torso and cupped my breasts before literally purring into my ear, “Besides, we’re only going to mess the bed up more.”

Before I could respond, she spun me around, pushed me down on to the bed, and proceeded to climb on top of me. She teased, taunted and chased her way along my breast until I felt the wet heat of her mouth wrap around my nipple. My hands wrapped in her curls, holding her to me. I thought I would come undone just from her mouth on my breasts. I had to break free to slow things down.