Walk with Me (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream) (23 page)

“You know exactly what I mean.” Danielle’s modern tone returns. “You’re holding back on him. I don’t know what’s going on in that little head of yours, Kenna, but don’t risk losing Donovan because you’re too afraid to open up to him.” She picks up her tea and takes a sip, eyeing me.

Danielle has never spoken this frankly to me about boys before. I wonder what’s gotten into her? I think sometimes she likes to mother me.

She continues on. “I see the way you two look at each other. I recognize that look in his eyes. How he studies your every move and inhales every word you say like it’s his last breath. It’s the same way Christian used to look at me before I had to come back home, and before the distance strained our relationship—before the end.”

I remember that time in Danielle’s life. It was so painful to watch. She was so sad all the time. But she didn’t want to talk, only to wallow in her pain alone—grieve alone. “What ever happened with you two?”

Danielle lifts her eyes from her tea and exhales. “We were both too afraid to take things further. He loved me just as much as I loved him. He would look at me the same way I’ve seen Donovan look at you. It was like we were in a mythical bubble. Everything was so magical and easy during the study abroad program. The passion of our studies and the relaxed environment made for a perfect combination to fuel our romance. I felt so alive and life had new meaning. The words to songs started to make sense, and the world around me felt like it was in perfect harmony.

“But when we had to come home and reality hit, our bubble started to strain from the pressure of daily life. Our lives were on opposite sides of the country with family and friends. Neither one of us was strong enough to make the move. We were too scared. We were scared to leave our comfort zones, to leave our families and friends. I lost him…and he lost me…because we were too afraid. Don’t be afraid to fall in love, Kenna.” Danielle pauses, looking to me for some reaction.

I blink, contemplating her words. “I didn’t know that’s how it was with you two. I saw that you were suffering, but I didn’t know what was going on. You just shut down and wouldn’t talk to anyone. I’m sorry you went through that alone. What about you and Tyler? Are you guys in love?”

Danielle picks up her chopsticks again, picking at her food. “Nah. We enjoy each other’s company and we have fun together, but it’s not the same. I left half of my heart back in Europe. I know the liver can regenerate, but I don’t think the heart can. It gets easier every day, though, and the hole in my chest where that part of my heart used to be is filling with something. I just hope it’s not scar tissue that has no feeling.”

I’m stunned from the revealing words by Danielle, never having seen or heard her so open with her feelings. She’s wearing her robe at the table but she is so exposed at the moment.

A possible solution comes to my mind. “What about the two of you starting somewhere new together? You know, on neutral territory. That way you both are giving up your family and friends equally. Aren’t you studying the same major in school? Maybe you two could transfer to the same school midcountry or something and see if the relationship can stand the test of everyday life. I mean you need to transfer next year anyway.”

“I don’t know. I see on Facebook he has a new girlfriend.”

“Yeah, and you have a new boyfriend, but you just said it’s not the same. Maybe it’s like that with him and his new girlfriend. Maybe he’s still in love with you, too, but he’s trying to move on because he doesn’t see any other way to make it work. Isn’t it worth a try to see if there’s still something there? You said he made you feel alive. Is that how you feel now or are you just living life?”

As I give Danielle advice, I’m listening to my own words and giving myself advice, too. I understand my own wants, and needs. And I know what I need to do to feel alive all the time. Not closed off to some, and open to others.

“Maybe you’re right, Kenna. I can’t let my fears to move away get in the way of the man that I love, and if he is too afraid to make a move for me then he doesn’t love me as much as I thought he did. And the same goes for you. Don’t let your fears of opening up to Donovan be the undoing of what you’re building together. I think you guys are good for each other. He’s a warrior type that needs a strong woman to stand by his side. All he wants to do is take care and look out for you, and you deserve and need that. Let him do it. Let him be your man to honor and protect you.”

I exhale at her realization and truth. “You’re right. It’s so engrained in me to do it all on my own—to be my own person.”

“Well, it is important to be your own person. Not to lose your own individuality and your own identity. I’ve seen that with other girls, too. They give up on their own hopes and dreams for a man—their own careers and aspirations. I’m not talking about that. I don’t mean for you to change who you are for Donovan. All I’m saying is to at least open up to him. Let him into your heart and give him room in your life to serve his purpose—to fulfill his role as your man.

“I’ll try, Danielle. All I can do is try.” And I will try because I want this to work. I want to stop just
living
life, and I can see to feel fully alive, I need to open myself up to all experiences, physical and emotional.

* * * *

It’s 3:30 a.m. and I’m usually sound asleep at this time, but I set my alarm to wake me up. I’m sneaking over to Donovan’s house tonight to spend the night. I miss him too much already and that talk with Danielle today at the spa clicked something in me. I need to let go and let love come to me. I’m a good person who deserves to be adored and cherished, and I can in turn give my love to another who is deserving of it.

Deserving of it
. I play the words back again in my mind. Maybe that’s why I’m so much slower to opening up my heart to Donovan, because I need for him to show me he is deserving of my love—my heart. I can give up my body so much easier to him. A body can be hurt. I know. I’ve felt the physical pain in my life, during my childhood, but it can heal. If I give my heart and it’s hurt, it can take months or years to heal, or maybe never. Just look at Danielle. It’s been months and she’s still not over Christian.

I can go a lifetime without falling in love, if I choose to, but choosing that path would not allow me to live life to the fullest. I want to be
alive
in all areas of life, so here I am at 3:30 a.m. parked outside Donovan’s guesthouse. All the lights in the main house are out, but one light illuminates in the guesthouse. He’s home from work.

I tip-toe up the path to his place and rap on the door. I hear his bare feet padding toward the door. There is hesitation…and then the turn of the locks.

Donovan opens the door with surprise and concern on his face. “Kenna? What are you doing here?” He peers around outside to see if I’m alone.

I hold up my white T-shirt of his. “I’ve come to spend the night.” I throw him a naughty smile.

A smile of elation is etched on his face. “I have your boxer briefs cleaned and waiting for you.” He grabs me by the wrist and pulls me into his room, shutting and locking the door behind him. Not letting go of my wrist, he pulls me into him and wraps his other arm around my waist, flattening my body to his. My chest is heaving against his and my heart is beating at triple time.

I have come to him in the middle of the night. With this action I’m telling him that I’m his, at least for tonight—that he has the upper hand and I will submit to him. Standing dominant over me, he releases my wrist and pulls my face to his for a deep, penetrating kiss, leaving me breathless and weak in the knees. Donovan breaks the kiss, studying my face for my reaction. I look up to him, waiting for his next move. I want him to lead the way tonight—to take control.

He senses this and eyes me with a sensual smirk. “I told you that once with me wouldn’t be enough. Now get that cute little ass of yours in my bed…now.”

I giggle at his comment. I’m starting to love this part of him. I’m excited by the prospect of this game, quickly complying with his command, and I’m rewarded with not one, but two toe-curling orgasms, and the best night’s sleep in months.

I fling my backpack onto the passenger’s seat and pull out my phone to text Donovan.

Me: On my way over to your place now. Can’t wait to see you

.

I toss the phone into my drink cup holder just in case he texts back. We haven’t been able to spend anytime alone since I showed up at his place in the middle of the night last week. He was back to work the next night and I had a huge test today and needed to stay home—alone—the last few nights to study. Well, at least I tried my best to study. It was hard to focus on my work when my mind kept wandering to where I wanted to be—in Donovan’s arms and in Donovan’s bed. His e-mails with hearts and declarations of his love reminded me why I’m falling for this guy, and falling hard. He is sweeping me off my feet.

I never knew how freeing it is to open oneself to another person, to let them in. Danielle is right, to let love in, one has to let go.

I recognize that because of my childhood, I need control of things in and around my life. It has been a defense mechanism, helping me navigate the past dozen years, but with Donovan, and what we have right now, I have no control. I am relinquishing my heart to this man, and with it, transferring some of my power to him. I can feel the shift in our relationship. It’s like our relationship is trying to find homeostasis—a balance of control between the two of us. He is giving me some power with telling me he loves me and opening his world up to me. I am working toward the same thing with him. I trust him to be gentle with my heart and to give me the time I need to bloom for him.

I have no idea where my future with Donovan is going, which is scary, but also thrilling. I know I want my future to be with him, and things in my life are changing for the better because I am allowing myself to be open and vulnerable to the possibilities of what could be. We fit so easily into each other’s lives, like we are picking back up where we once left off in the past. I’m not a spiritual person. Science to me outweighs and disproves many things. But if I were spiritual, I would say we were together in a past life and there has been no one else before and there will be no one else after, and we have found each other once again. And
that
is why I had a hard time studying, because my mind kept thinking crazy stuff like that.

Plucking the keys from the ignition in front of Donovan’s parents’ house, my stomach flutters with excitement to see him. Making love with Donovan is magical and I want more. The more I open up to him emotionally, the deeper the physical connection is between us.

The front door opens after two knocks and I’m greeted by Joseph with pen and newspaper in hand. He and Connie are always working on the crossword. Donovan tried to get them to play Words with Friends, but they like the crispness of the paper and the sound of the pen marking the page. I guess how some people still prefer paper books to e-books.

“Hi, Joseph. Is Donovan here?” I ask, stepping into the house with my backpack hanging on one shoulder.

“Hi, Kenna,” he greets me with a warm smile and guides me into the living room. “I think Donovan is out back working in the workshop. Come have a seat for a moment and tell us what’s new.” Joseph directs me to the couch and turns his head to yell toward the house. “Hey, Connie, Kenna’s here!”

“Thanks, Joseph. How’s the crossword going?” I try to make small talk, but I hate crosswords. Firstly, I’m a terrible speller and secondly, my brain can’t think that way and frustrates me.

“Oh, you know. You think you’re making headway, then you realize the one word you thought for sure fit has just messed you up. I don’t know why I use a pen. Do you know a five-letter word that means without repetition?”

Oh God really? I have no clue.
Thankfully, Connie appears from one of the bedrooms, beaming to see me. “Hello, my dear,” she says with her motherly sing-song tone and sweeps me into a hug off the couch and then goes to sit next to Joseph on the loveseat. “It’s good to see you, dear. You look happy today. What’s new?”

I am happy and relieved about finishing my test and now I get to spend some quality time with your son…hopefully naked
.

I flush at my wayward thoughts. “Is it that obvious?” I ask. “It’s nothing big. I just finished a big test in one of my classes and I think I did well.” I boast a little and smile with pride.

“You like school, don’t you, dear?”

“I love school. I love to learn and I feel at home in the classroom. I especially love having theoretical and philosophical discussions about our topics with my professors and other students.”

“I never really cared much for school. I wish I did. Now Donovan’s dad, here, he was the bookworm in the family. Right, dear?” Connie touches Joseph’s knee and he looks up from the crossword.

“Oh uh. Yeah. History. That was my favorite subject. I got my degree in accounting, but I loved to read and study about history.”

“I like history, too. There is so much to learn from the mistakes that others have made before us. Sometimes we need to make our own mistakes to learn and grow as individuals and as nations, but sometimes we can learn by observing the mistakes that others have made. History always repeats itself and we can prevent the pain and tragedies that follow, if we recognize the patterns and make change before they progress too far.”