Blurred Truth (The Blurred Series Book 2) (4 page)

Unbidden thoughts of our earlier conversation begin entering my mind in quick succession. I have to know if she was into it. I want more of that with her, no matter how selfish it is.

OffLand18 says: I can’t stop thinking about our conversation yesterday. Have you been thinking about it, too?

BabyDove94 says: Yes, I have.

I’m surprised by her honesty, but I’m not sure why. I guess I just thought she’d be too shy to admit thinking of the things I said to her.

I know I’ll regret it later, but I have to push for more. My body is already reacting to the mere thought of it.

OffLand18 says: It’s turning me on, thinking of you on top of me. Let’s pick up where we left off. Tell me how you feel right now?... Physically.

BabyDove94 says: My cheeks are warm.

OffLand18 says: You’re embarrassed.

I don’t want her to be embarrassed, but even that’s a turn on.

BabyDove94 says: Maybe…

OffLand18 says: You’re too cute, but please just relax. You know me, Dove. You know I’d never tell anyone about our conversations and nothing you could say to me should make you feel embarrassed or ashamed. I know this is a new development for us, but I can’t help myself with you. I need more. I want more with you.

BabyDove94 says: I want more too.

My body takes over my brain and I’m not proud of what happens next, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. The only thing that would make it more perfect is if it happened with us in the same room together.

OffLand18 says: Have you ever touched yourself?

BabyDove94 says: I can’t believe we’re talking about this right now!...Yes, I have.

OffLand18 says: Fuck, that’s hot, baby. Do you make yourself come?

BabyDove94 says: Maybe.

OffLand18 says: Will you come for me?

I proceed to talk her through how I want her to touch herself and, no matter how sleazy it might sound, it’s the best experience I’ve ever had with a woman. Because she’s the only woman I’ve ever cared about this deeply; this intensely. I want to give her every pleasurable moment in her life. I want to make her happy, to make her come,
to make love to her
.

As things get more heated, as my instructions get dirtier, I hear the sweetest sound.

The sound is faint, with two bedroom doors and a hallway to penetrate, but I know it’s her and it spurs me on, just when I was thinking I might be taking things too far.

She needs this.

A distraction from her life.

OffLand18 says: You like that don’t you, baby?

BabyDove94 says: Yes. It feels good.

OffLand18 says: That’s so good. I’m imagining you sliding on my hard dick right now. You’re so amazing. Now I want you to remove your finger and slide it to your clit. Massage it for me in small circles. Imagine I’m on top of you as you’re doing it. Imagine I’m the one making you feel everything.

I’m so turned on by Natalie, it’s painful. I stroke myself with one hand, while telling her what I want her to do with the other.

OffLand18 says: Imagine I’m deep inside you right now. Come for me.

“Ahh, yes, Ryan!”

There’s no mistaking what I just heard. She cried my name.
Mine
. Not
his
. What does that even mean? Does she want me the way I want her? Should I go in there right now and confess everything?

I come in record time, on the heels of hearing my name leave her perfect lips. To thoughts of her, tight and warm around me, and not my own fist.

Then something happens that I’d not anticipated.

BabyDove94 says: I’m sorry. I have to go.

BabyDove94 is offline.

What the fuck just happened? Why is she running from me now? I was on the verge of telling her everything.

Everything
.

I thought we’d talk afterward. I was going to make sure she was okay. Comfortable. Not embarrassed anymore.

Happy.

I hear her leave the bedroom, then the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. What is she thinking now? I don’t know, because she didn’t stick around to tell me. I can’t tell her anything now... Not yet.

So close.

Did I take things too far? Did I take advantage of her vulnerability?

I did. I'm sure of it, and it guts me.

What have I done?

Nate: I’m gonna be late. Make sure Natalie’s ok.

Me: Will do.

Nate’s earlier text only made me feel worse. I’ve been in a haze of guilt since Natalie signed off of the chat room. I’ve been lying on my bed, occasionally holding my breath so that I can hear the smallest of whimpers from her bedroom. If she cries over what we did, I don’t think I could live with myself.

Yet, I don’t feel relieved by the silence I’ve been subjected to.

After I hear Nate arrive home and turn-in for the night, I fight the urge to go and listen at her door. I need to stop obsessing over Natalie Connor.

I need to, but I won’t.

* * *

After trying to get some work done for a long-time client of mine, who contacted me about a website re-design last week, I still can’t get the events of earlier tonight out of my head. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about
her
and how she’s feeling.

I hope she’s sound asleep by now, at 12:55am, but what if she’s not?

Without thinking, I’m logging back into the chat room to make sure she’s not there, waiting for Land. Waiting for him to make her feel better.

BabyDove94 is offline.

You have 1 new private message.

From: BabyDove94 at 11:54pm

Hey. I’m really sorry for leaving the way I did. This is going to sound really cliché, but it wasn’t you, it was me. I just...freaked out. It felt wrong to feel the way I did so soon after my parents’ passing. I felt ashamed for feeling happy. It wasn’t your fault. Sorry, again. Hope to speak to you soon x

Well, shit.

She
is apologizing to
me
for what happened. Does she not realize that it’s my fault? Does she not see what a selfish asshole I am?

Of course she doesn’t. She always sees the best in other people and the worst in herself. I need to change that. If only she could see herself the way I see her.

Maybe I could make that happen? I just need to figure out how. I’ll start with a response to that message that will completely obliterate her perception of whose fault it was.

Before I have a chance to start typing my message, I hear the faintest noise in the silent apartment. A noise I’ve been dreading to hear all evening.

I’m up and in the hallway before I can form a thought. I silently step to her door, and the now clearer sound guts me.

Gentle sobs drift through the thin door, where my palm is now pressed. They freeze me to the spot where I stand, in the small hallway between our bedrooms.

I pray to a god I don’t think I believe in. Silently asking him to take her pain away, but apparently he doesn’t answer selfish bastards like me, even if the prayer is for someone as innocent as her, because her crying doesn’t cease in the unknown amount of minutes I stand there.

The sobs become small whimpers, after a while, but the crying refuses to stop.

You need to help her.

If she knew I was Land and there were no lies between us, what would she want me to do? Will my intrusion make her feel better or worse? Will she feel humiliated, having been heard?

She probably thinks Nate and I are sleeping. Well, she’s fifty percent right. The other fifty percent is standing at her door, silently hoping that what’s about to happen will ease her mind and help her sleep; not freak her out and make her feel worse.

It's a gamble I have to take.

The door opens with a soft click, and I’m not sure if it was loud enough to alert her of my presence, but I don’t have to wait long to find out.

As I close the door behind me, a small voice constricted by emotion queries, “Nate?”

I can tell by her tone that she knows it isn’t him, but she can’t believe it’s me, either.

I approach her bed slowly and lean over her curled-up body. She looks so small like this. So fragile.

She’s looking up at me with confusion in her eyes. Confusion; not any of those other bad feelings I feared might come to the surface when I intruded on her privacy.

Thank you, God.

“Ryan? What-”

“Shh, Natalie, it’s okay.” I brush my fingers through her hair; a soothing gesture that I hope makes her feel more at ease. “Move over for me,” I command in the moonlit darkness.

She does as I ask, and I climb in the bed behind her, so that my bare chest is to her scarcely-clothed back. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her into me.

It’s then that her ragged sobs return, but she turns to face me, placing her soft cheek to my chest, and clings to me as she cries; like she wants me here to help her through the tears. Like she
needs
me to be here.

I’ve never felt like I have more purpose in life than I do right now.

I hold her to me and gently stroke her hair, promising it’s all going to be okay. I just hope I can keep my promises. The ones I’m making now. The ones I made earlier.

I have a gut-wrenching feeling that this won’t be the last time she cries because of me; because of my selfishness when it comes to her. I can only hope that she’ll still be letting me hold her the next time.

As her cries begin to calm into shuddering breaths, which, in turn, fade into even breathing, I realize she’s falling asleep in my arms.

“I’m
so
sorry, baby,” I whisper into her hair, unsure of whether she heard me or not, but feeling just a little better for saying it.

* * *

Baby, please don’t apologize for anything. It was too soon. I was insensitive and I honestly feel like I took advantage of your emotions last night. None of it is on you. I’m the one who’s sorry. I hope you can forgive me, and I hope you are feeling okay today x.

I sent my/Land’s response at around 6:30am this morning, after I snuck from Natalie’s room back into mine, narrowly missing Nate in the hallway when he got up for work. I didn’t need him catching me in Natalie’s bed if he came checking on her. That’s a whole can of worms I don’t wish to open...yet. It would only serve to make everything more complicated.

I drifted in and out of sleep for the few hours I stayed with her. She never attempted to leave my arms, but sometimes she’d stir, as if she were dreaming, and the small movement against my chest would wake me. I’d stroke her hair some more until she settled and the cutest little snores would pass her slightly parted lips.

How can a snore be cute, you ask? Well, I don’t know, but hers are the cutest fucking snores I’ve ever heard.

As much as I liked being there for Natty last night - that she let me be there for her - I hate that she was so overwhelmed with emotion. I hate that she needed me the way she did. I never want her to go through that again. I want to protect her, and if I can’t protect her, I want to know I’ll be there to hold her and promise everything will be all right.

I need to make sure she knows I’m here, waiting, and that I’ll be whatever she needs me to be.

Laying down on my bed, I close my eyes, still exhausted from the lack of sleep. I still have a few hours before I need to be at my client meeting. After that, I’ll head to the gym and think about how best to show Natalie how much I care, while I pound my feet against the treadmill for a few miles.

I’ll run until I know where I’m heading.

* * *

When I enter the apartment, all is quiet. Checking the mail on the entryway table, I drop the bills back down where I found them. Nate deals with that shit; I just give him my share each month. He’s the responsible one in this bromance.

“Hi Ryan,” a small voice says from the living room, as I turn to enter.

It startles me a little. I really thought no one was home, the place was that silent, but I’m not surprised at how fucking happy it makes me that Natty’s here.

“Nat, hey, I didn’t see you there. What’re you up to?” I ask brightly, as I drop my gym bag and make my way over to sit next to her on the couch.

I lay one arm along the top of the back cushions and study Natalie’s face, as she becomes transfixed on my tattooed arm.

Amused by her reaction to me, I clear my throat to pull her back to the present.

She blushes and attempts to answer my question, “Uh, nothing, just considering something.”

“Oh, yeah? Anything I can help with?”

Please let it be something I can help with
.

“Um...probably not,” she says, almost too quietly for me to hear.  “Where have you been this morning?” she asks, trying to change the subject.

Not happening.

“The gym - this kind of perfection takes work. Try me,” I answer her question, but switch straight back to the topic at hand.

“Well...I just… Nate mentioned that the café next door might be hiring, and I was considering going down there to ask about the position,” she confesses.

“Calli’s Café? Okay, so what’s the problem? You don’t have to get a job, if you don’t want to, but if you do want to, then go ask about it,” I say simply, not understanding the problem she’s having.

“I’ve been trying to talk myself into having the courage for a while now,” she says meekly.

Now I understand. Sort of.

“You’re nervous? Are you scared they’ll turn you down?” I ask.

“Yes and no. I have no experience at all, so I’m kinda scared they’ll laugh in my face. But mostly, I’ve just never been good at meeting new people. I’m pretty awkward in social situations... Shy, I guess. It’s one of the reasons I did college online. I can’t ask Nate to come with me; he’ll just tell me I don’t have to do it, and so I won’t do it. I need to get out more,” she explains with a self-deprecating chuckle.

I can totally help her with this!

“Okay, so how about I go down there with you? I’m practically family in that place, so that’s bound to help your chances of getting the job,” I say with a confident smile.

“You’d do that for me?” she asks with some astonishment.

Was I really such an ass to her growing up, that she thinks this is a huge favor for me to do for her?

Well, damn.

I shake the troubling thought and fake a small laugh as I get up off the couch, tapping Natty’s knee, trying to be lighthearted. I fight the urge to just sit back down and touch her leg some more.

Then I see her underwear.

Now I’m standing, the position Natalie’s in with her knees tucked to her chest - wearing that cute little sundress - is giving me a small glimpse of her pink panties.

This. Is. Torture.

I’m in some sort of heaven/hell hybrid. Heaven, because she’s here. Hell, because I can’t touch her. Be with her. Make her happy.

I quickly snap out of my wayward thinking, before she notices and becomes suspicious.

“Of course. It’s not that big a deal, Natty; just a friend introducing a friend to some other friends. Come on.” I hold out both hands to her, helping her up off the couch when she puts her small hands in mine. I can’t help noticing how perfect that feels. “Get your shoes and whatever girly shit you women carry around, and let’s go,” I say with a lightness I don’t quite feel.

When she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and giggles, making her merry way down the hall to retrieve her stuff, I smile, realizing that maybe I can make her happy, after all.

* * *

Natalie pauses for a moment outside Calli’s; taking a moment to gather her nerves, perhaps?

“Ready?” I ask, not wanting her to dwell on her anxiousness.

Not waiting for a response, I grasp her hand and hold it tight with reassurance, before leading her into the quaint café.

“Ah, Ryan. I wasn’t expecting to see you at this time of day? And who is this pretty lady, huh?” Calli questions, moving gracefully towards us from behind the counter.

Calli and I have been good friends for a while now. Nate and I are in here practically every day. She opened up her café shortly before we bought the apartment, and she always made sure we were fed and watered while we were renovating the place. She’s a good person and I’m pretty sure my best friend is in love with her.

“Calli, this is Natalie.
Nate’s
little sister. Natty, this is Calli, the owner of the best café in town,” I say, tugging Natalie forward from her hiding place behind me.

“Ciao, Natalie, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Calli’s face lights up as she greets Natalie, kissing both of her cheeks before pulling back to study her a little. “You are even more beautiful than I expected. The boys have talked about you so often, I feel like I know you already.”

Natalie seems to freeze, like she doesn’t know what the appropriate response is in this situation. She’s so nervous, I can feel her trembling beside me.