Closely Guarded Secret (15 page)

“Sure. This is a democracy.” I pull out a chair to sit down, facing him.

“Let me start by saying I like Bryce, and I’m sorry how I handled the situation earlier. I don’t, however, think I should apologize for trying to protect you.”

“What you’re saying, is you don’t think you crossed a line?”

“I wouldn’t call it crossing a line. More like the line wasn’t well defined, more blurred.”

“Really? You can’t come up with something better than that?”

“Ali, try to understand where I’m coming from. This is your first relationship since . . . well, you know. You’re new to this, and there are lots of men out there who will say and do whatever it takes to get what they want. Even if it means acting like they’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“I know, but I don’t believe Bryce is one of them. What you did today potentially could have ruined it.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I will always stand my ground when it comes to you. I won’t apologize for that.”

“It was the wrong way to go about it.” My voice is still stern. “If I have any chance of doing this dating and relationship thing, I have to learn and go through the emotions like everyone else, right? Sure, I may fall or get it wrong, but at least now I’ve put myself out there. I know you’ll be there for me, like you’ve always been, but Steven, please, don’t interfere.”

“I don’t want to see you get attached and then get hurt. I would like to think if your brother were here, he would be as, if not more, protective of you.”

“We can’t speculate on how my dead brother would or wouldn’t protect me. He’s not here, so it’s not a valid point.” That’s a low blow, bringing him up, and he knows it.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I felt it was my obligation to let him know in a round about way, I’ve got your back.”

“Protecting me is one thing. Telling Bryce something happened is entirely something else. Bryce and I are in a good place right now. I want it to stay that way before I cause the bottom to drop out. His interest is now piqued and I’m not ready for full disclosure.”

“If he’s a man worth his salt, then it won’t matter what happened. You need to believe it. If you tell him and he uses that information to hurt you, then he’ll have to deal with me.” There’s no reasoning with him when he gets his mind made up about something.

“If he did, do you think confronting him would make him see the error of his ways?”

“No, but it would make me feel better.”

I’m about to rip my hair out. I may as well be talking to a brick wall. “Why are we talking like it’s already happening? I have enough to deal with without having this be over before it’s even begun.”

“You’re right. We won’t talk about it as though it’s past tense.”

“Good. And I meant what I said.” Looking directly at him as though I’m able to burn my will into him, I hope he gets it. “Good night, Steven.”

“Night, Ali. Love you, Doll.”

“Love you too.”

I’m ready for bed, but decide to load the pictures I took today onto my Mac. As the photos pop up one by one, Bryce shows up in vivid color, larger than life. Now I can take my time to admire him. It’s like looking at a mythological creature, but I know he exists. I swear, some cosmic force is at work, because my phone rings, and it’s Bryce.

“Hi,” he says as I answer the phone.

“Hi. I was just thinking about you.”

“I guess I’m telepathic,” he laughs jokingly.

“Maybe you are. Are you all packed for tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’m all packed. My housekeeper is handy when it comes to that.”

I don’t remember seeing anyone else at his home. “You have a housekeeper?”

“Yes, she comes in five days a week, with weekends off.”

“Oh. I guess it wouldn’t do for you to pack your own things?”

“No. I suck at it. I bet you don’t though,” he says and there it is.

“What? Suck or suck at it?” I hear his sharp intake of breath. Two can play this game Mr. Steede.

“I can’t image you sucking at anything. I can, however, imagine you sucking on things.”

“Maybe one day, if you’re lucky, you’ll find out.” I can’t believe I’m saying stuff like this to him.

“Ali, you’re killing me here,” he replies softly.

“Where are you Bryce? It sounds quiet.”

“I’m in my bed, wishing you were here. I meant what I said this morning. Waking up next to you is something I hope to do again soon.”

“Next time we go running in a rain storm, maybe.”

“That could take forever.”

“You’ll have to keep an eye on the sky.”

“There’s only one thing I want to keep my eye on. I wanted to call and say good night, Ali.”

“Good night, Bryce. Have a good flight tomorrow. I know you’ll be busy, so call me when you can.”

“I’ll miss you. Goodnight.”

I go back to looking at Bryce’s photos, outlining his face with my fingers, daydreaming of running my hands through his thick, unruly hair while he hovers over me. I miss him already, and can’t wait until he gets back.

L
imbs outstretched like a cat, I work out the kinks from last night’s sleep. I’m glad it’s Wednesday, but on top of my busy schedule, I have an appointment with my doctor this afternoon. I hope she can figure out what the pain in my abdomen is all about and get it taken care of.

I haven’t heard from Bryce since late Sunday evening, and that was only a text saying he landed. I know he’s a busy man and didn’t get where he is today by keeping everyone up to date on his schedule. He’s seeped into my mind and consumed my thoughts. I find it hard to concentrate on work. On breathing. On . . . being.

“I was just thinking about you,” I say as I answer on the first ring. It’s good to hear his voice.

“I bet not as much as I’ve thought about you,” he answers back.

“Am I on speaker phone?” I can tell because it sounds different.

“Yes, it’s easier this way. You know, to talk. Where are you?”

“Still in bed. I have a few minutes before I have to get up.”

“What a coincidence. I’m in bed, too. Alone.” He sounds frustrated. “I woke up thinking about you.”

I smile at the thought. “You’re on my mind, too. How’s your trip?”

“It’s going well. I was hoping to come back tomorrow, but one of the meetings has been pushed back, so I don’t think that’s possible.” I hear the disappointment in his voice.

“Friday will be here before you know it.” I pretend to be upbeat but I’m as disappointed as he sounds.

“What are your plans for today?” he asks.

“Oh, you know, the typical photo shoot. But this time our subject is cooperative. Those are the ones I like doing best.”

In the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard, he says, “I can be very cooperative. I’ll show you when I get back.”

“Now that should be something to experience.” I know where this conversation is going, and once again, his charisma draws me in. He’s not the only one who’s frustrated.

“I miss you, Ali.”

“I miss you too, Bryce.” I miss him more than I thought I would.

“You do?” he asks, sounding as though he needs reassurance from me.

“Yes. I can’t stop thinking about you. I find it difficult to concentrate on anything else.”

“You’re on my mind from the minute I wake up until the minute I go to sleep. I need you, Ali.” His unfamiliar words startle me.

“You need me?”

“Yes, I do. I want you to be the first thing I see in the mornings.”

“Oh, so that’s all you ‘need’ me for. Of course.” I fail miserably trying to sound upset.

“I thought it was you who only wanted me for my body. I guess we’re at a draw?” he jokes. “No, that’s not all I need or want you for. Would I like us to take it to the next level? Yes, but only when you’re ready. It’s only a small part of the reason I need you. Well, not small.” I know exactly what he’s talking about.

I hear him panting and I’m sure he’s touching himself. I don’t know why, but the thought of him jerking off, while talking to me, turns me on and I feel empowered. I don’t know if it should, but fuck it – I’m not a complete prude. Since I have no frame of reference and it’s my first time doing this, I’ll ‘wing it.’

In a quiet, hushed whisper I reply, “Bryce, I want you.”

“Oooh . . .” he moans out this breathless message.

Electrical shivers run up and down my spine. A pulsing sensation ignites my desire increasing the throb of passion coursing through me, and within an instant, I’m wet. Of it’s own free will, my hand glides beneath my boy shorts, my fingers drawing circles around my clit. A soft moan escapes me, releasing an exaggerated groan from Bryce.

“Imagine my mouth exploring every inch of your body. Feel my warm breath against your skin. I’m brushing my lips down your neck to your chest. With my hand wrapped around your hard cock, I’m stroking you up and down,” I say in a seductive tone.

“Ali,” he breathes my name, barely audible. I would give anything to be with him right now.

In a low husky voice I continue, “Slowly, my mouth glides down your cock, its tip touching the back of my throat. I’m lightly squeezing your balls. Is this what you want? Tell me.”

“Yes, oh god . . . faster. Squeeze my balls,” he groans out.

In a tender but commanding tone, I tell him, “Pinch my nipples, Bryce. Do as I say. Now.” My words push him over the edge.

“Ali . . .” My name is followed by a long, drawn out muffled cry. Hearing him call my name as he comes, is too fucking sexy.

It’s quiet. Did we lose connection? Did he hang up? “Bryce?”

“I’m here.” He’s trying to get his heavy breathing under control.

“I’ve never been awakened like that before,” I say, smiling like a fool.

“You didn’t mind?” His words are clipped but he sounds more like himself.

“Mind? No, I didn’t mind. It’s the first time I’ve had phone sex. I feel like I need a cigarette.” The boisterous laughter from him is contagious and I join in.

“For a first timer, you did an excellent job.” His change in attitude is abrupt. “Friday can’t get here soon enough. I’m serious when I say I need you. I crave you, Ali.”

Swoon. Thud. Yes, that’s my libido jumping from my body ready to catch the next flight to L.A.

That was by far the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. “I can’t wait to see you either.” My body and mind are finally on the same page and we’re ready. We’ve only had a few dates, but those few times, much to my surprise, have fueled my determination to be with him. I would gladly lie down and offer myself as a sacrifice if it meant his mouth would devour every inch of me. He’s turned my world around 180 degrees. I can give him what he wants, what he needs, what he’s never had. Me.

“As much as I don’t want to hang up with you, I need to get ready for work,” I say.

“I know. I don’t want to hang up either, but I also have to get up.”

“Okay, have a good rest of the day.”

“After this morning, it’s going to be great day,” he says in an upbeat tone.

“I’ll let you call me, since I know you’re busy with meetings.”

“I’ll talk with you tonight. Have a great day, baby.”

Baby? I know it’s a term of endearment, but it’s shocking to hear him say it to me. I like it. “You too.”

It’ll take surgery to remove the now permanent grin on my face. I’ll have to talk about my past at some point, but I don’t have to divulge details to have sex with him. That’s not a requirement.

He’s right. Friday can’t get here fast enough. Leaning against the tiled wall, thinking about Bryce and our phone call, the water finishes what I started with Bryce on the phone.

T
here’s something about doctors’ offices I don’t like. They’re too sterile and all have the same antiseptic smell. I guess they’re running behind because I’ve been waiting forty-five minutes past my appointment time.

“Alixandra Quinn?” the nurse calls out. I get up and follow her to the scales.

After we go through the usual intake routine she admonishes, “You’ve had this pain for a year and you’re just now coming to see the doctor?”

“I’ve been busy and thought being on the pill was supposed to help or stop it. I use heat and ibuprofen…”I trail off, dreading explaining it to the doctor as well.

She hands me the gown. “Take off everything from the waist down. The doctor will be in momentarily.”

Lying on my back, staring at the poster stapled to the ceiling, I think about Bryce and all of my worries seem to disappear. There’s a quick knock on the door, then it opens and I sit up.

“Hi, Ali. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” she says, extending her hand.

“Hi, Dr. Warner. Yes, it’s been a while.”

“So, I see here you’ve been having some pain and discomfort.”

Discomfort isn’t how I would describe it. “Yes.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I always get it at the beginning of my period, but over the years, the pain’s increased.”

“When did your last menstrual period end?”

“A few days ago. Once my period stops it doesn’t bother me.”

“On a scale of one to ten, what is the pain level when it happens?”

“Twenty.” Her stare is deadpan.

“Let’s start with an exam and go from there, okay?” This is the part I hate. As she ‘digs’ around, feeling and pushing down on each side of my abdomen, I feel a sharp twinge and cry out. I know it’s still sensitive from my period. “Okay, I definitely feel something, but I want to do an ultrasound. Today, if you can. I don’t want to put this off any longer.” She raises an eyebrow, daring me to defy her.

“Okay. What time?” I ask.

“I’ll have the nurse call in the order now. It’s downstairs, so you won’t have far to go.”

As I finish dressing, the nurse knocks and opens the door. “The lab can work you in, but the appointment is in two hours.”

I don’t like hanging around in waiting rooms. I saw a deli a couple of blocks away and decide to go there and get a snack while I wait. I pull out my phone and see a text from Bryce.

*I enjoyed our morning conversation. Maybe we could have one tonight? *

This makes me smile. Have I created a phone sex monster? I laugh a little to myself, and text him back.

*Only if you’re good*

A couple of minutes later, I get another text from him.

*You have no idea but I hope to show you soon*

I text him back.

*Looking forward to it*

A second later, my phone rings and it’s Bryce. My heart races and my limbs go weak as I answer.

“So, you’re looking forward to it, are you?” he asks, not giving me time to say more than hi.

“Yes,” I breathe out the word as I bite down on my smile.

It sounds as though he’s doing the same. “I can’t wait to see you. I made a dinner reservation for Friday night.”

“Where are we going?”

“Some place special,” he says then adds, “it’s not a jeans wearing type place.” Smart-ass.

“That’s good to know. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you by wearing the wrong clothes.”

“Ali, you could wear nothing and that would be fine. I’m looking forward to that moment.” And, Mr. Sex is back.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to scare off the other patrons.”

“Oh, I think they would drop at your feet in deep admiration. I know I would,” he says in a low growl.

“Bryce, I’m in a restaurant, and as much as I’d like to, I can’t have this conversation with you right now.”

“Too public for you? We’ll have to see what we can do to shed that inhibition.” What? Is he saying he’s had sex in public? I’m not the only one with layers.

“Right now, yes. Hey, I have to go. I have an appointment in ten minutes.”

“Okay, I need to get going myself.”

“Call me later?” I ask.

“You can count on it.”

#

Lying back on the table, I feel the warm ooze of the gel being squeezed across my abdomen. As the technician rolls the probe across, pushing down, I look up at the screen and I’m amazed he knows what he’s looking at. To me, it’s nothing but a black and white void. He scrolls over the middle and presses down harder, making me wince and cry out a little as he records images. Damn, that hurts. Once finished, he tells me to stay here until he comes back. About ten minutes later he returns.

“The radiologist took a look and called your doctor. She’d like to see you upstairs,” he says, not giving anything away.

My whole body is shaking as I punch the elevator button. Several scenarios of what could be wrong swirl through my head while I sit in the waiting room. I’m alone and scared and wish Steven were here. Finally the nurse shows me to a room. Dr. Warner comes in a few minutes later and gets right to it.

“I could do a hysteroscopy under general anesthesia for a more reliable diagnosis, but given your history I have no doubt you have Asherman’s Syndrome, also known as scaring of the uterus. How long ago did you have the surgery?” she asks while looking through my file. What the fuck?

“Ten years.”

“I’d like to schedule a hysteroscopy laparoscopy.”

“Surgery? Isn’t there something I can do besides that?”

“If you had come to me about this when the symptoms first started, I would have said, ‘possibly yes.’ Now the only remedy is to remove as much of the scar tissue as we can, and the only way to do that is through surgery. Baring complications, there won’t be a hospital stay. You’ll come in the morning and go home that afternoon.”

“When do you think it should be done?”

“Soon, definitely before your next period. We can schedule it for next Monday, if that works for you.”

Hell no, that doesn’t work for me. None of this works for me, I want to scream at her.

“I book all surgeries for Mondays, if that helps. Word of warning: don’t drag this out much longer. If the episodes are as bad as you’ve described, I recommend you take care of this problem now.”

I know this.

Her voice softens and her hand touches my arm in a calming manner. “I know the trauma you suffered was horrific, Ali. The scarring from those wounds caused tissues in your reproductive organs to fuse together. You could be lucky and have adhesions only in a small area. I won’t know the full extent of the damage until I get in there.”

“Okay, I’ll talk with my boss and call back and get it scheduled.” She shakes my hand and I leave, feeling defeated. As I walk to my car, memories of what caused all this comes rushing into my mind like a tsunami, leaving me feeling lost and alone.

Why is this coming up now, possibly ruining any chances I have at finally being able to let go? I think about Bryce and how unsure I was about relationships before I met him, and how in such a short time, being around him has changed me from someone who was afraid to have an emotional attachment, to a woman who is ready to love and be loved.

My past has always been lurking below the surface, but now it’s broken through like a slap in the face that I don’t want or deserve. How am I going get through this? The doctor said recovery would take a week, possibly two. This shouldn’t have happened to me in the first place, and the thought of having to deal with everything again depresses me more.