Six Years (19 page)

"You wrote something about me?" I asked, my heart doing a somersault in my chest. My breath caught for a second in my throat and my voice came out in a short burst.

"In all my books. You've always been my inspiration, one way or another."

The look he's giving me went straight to my heart and left a mark that would never fade. He was tattooed on my heart, in my bones, through my soul. He used to be tattooed in my memories, and now he went beyond that without even knowing how permanent it was for me. I leaned closer, breathing him in, trying to imprint inside me the smell of clean clothes, his lemony shampoo and his all male aftershave to never forget and always carry with me. I closed my eyes and let myself feel how close he was to me. His hand in mine was smooth, warm and meant more than the simple gesture it was for an outsider. It was searing us. I took in the proximity of his body, of his strong thigh almost touching mine.

"I'm going to kiss you, Brooklyn. You can't look so... Just let me kiss you."

I nodded without muttering a word as my throat closed up at the need I heard in his deep voice, a need as strong as mine, stoking mine even more. His lips came into contact with mine in a second, his lip ring brushing my lower lip with the perfect coaxing I needed to open my lips and let his tongue break in to dance with mine. It was intense, beautiful and so very hot that I thought I'd spontaneously combust.

He took my lower lip between his and suckled once before he bit it softly. I moaned breathlessly and deepened the kiss, pushing my breasts into his firm chest. I needed more contact, I needed to be closer, to feel him against me. He sneaked his hand in my hair and tugged on it to tilt my head up to better devour me. Hot damn! Shit!

I gripped his shoulders tightly as though I might fall. I was dizzy with lust and I didn't know what to do anymore. Should I break the kiss or let it unfold some more to the point where we'd be tearing each other's clothes off our heated body. But before I made a decision—either one really—Nolan broke the kiss and took a deep breath, his eyes dark with desire, lips red and swollen by our epically good kiss. Even his cheeks were slightly red under his five o'clock shadow.

"I have to go or I'm not going to stop this. Kissing you gives me ideas…’'

I bit on my lower lip and his eyes flickered there. His hand in my hair tightened and the other one on my hip played with the hem of my top. We were a breath away from slipping and I so wanted to.

"Maybe I wouldn't be so against these ideas," I whispered.

He shook his head and put some distance between us. He pulled his hands away from me and sighed painfully. "Don't say something like this. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I laughed and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to compose myself and ignored all the tell-tale signs of how aroused I was.

"When I'm so turned on? Yeah, it's dangerous. All I want is to strip you to your underwear and then tear off your underwear with my teeth. That's what is on my mind right now."

"Why aren't you doing it?" I asked with a hushed voice, shaking with all the contradictions inside me. I wasn't a virgin and yet, I was so very afraid it wouldn't be good for him, that I wouldn't be good enough for him. I heard so many stories about his sex life from when he was a teenager around here...

"Because I swore to you that I wouldn't break your heart. I want to make things right and we have to go on a date before doing anything else. You deserve more than me acting on my desire just because I want you. It should be more, so it'll be more. I'll give you more than this."

He kissed me on the cheek and lingered a moment longer before he stood up and walked out. And I did something that brought an even bigger smile to my face. I checked out his ass.

I hate to think about Big No's departure. We still have a few months, but he's talking more and more about New York. He's happy even though his mother was back on heroin. He has hope because it's almost over. I should be glad for him, but I couldn’t help it; I hated this. I would never tell him, but it's getting harder.

I balled up the paper I was trying to finish for my English assignment and put my head in my hands. I needed some fresh air. I jumped to my feet and walked out, ignoring the silence of the house. My parents were still at work and I didn't like to be alone in this house. It was... I didn’t know, gloomy.

I grabbed my keys I left on the table in the kitchen and walked out, careful to lock the door after me. I took a deep breath, enjoying the light breeze and the smell of the air after it had rained all day yesterday.

"Are you all right, Little B?"

I turned toward the house next door and found Big No about to unlock the front door. He still had his backpack on.

"I'm fine. I'm just fed up of working on my homework."

He put his backpack down against the still locked door and jogged over with an amused smile. "Rebelling already?"

"I'm a pre-teen now," I replied playfully, but I also wanted him to see that I was growing up. Again. Same old, same old.

"I know," he said, his smile vanishing as he started to frown. "It's going to drive me nuts when you're going to go out with the guys at your school."

A small smile tugged at my lips and my heart swelled. "Why's that?"

"I'm a guy and I know how we think. We're all pervs when we hit puberty." He leaned against the wall next to me as he tried to hide his annoyance, but I knew him well enough to catch the anger in his voice.

"I'm sure girls are no better."

His eyes narrowed on my face and it made me giggle. "Not you."

"I'll do whatever I want and you won't even be there to witness it so..."

"Are you trying to get me angry?"

"Is it working?" I asked looking at my shoes as my eyes got blurry. I didn't want to cry or fight with him, but in a twisted way, I was trying to gather proof that he still cared about me and would still do once he was in New York.

Without a word, he pulled me into him and hugged me tightly. He saw right through me. With my face in his firm chest, I let my tears fall. I circled his waist with my scrawny arms and held on. In the pit of my stomach, I knew it would change.

He kissed the top of my head. "I don't know how to prove to you how much I care about you. I'm not like your family, I'll never reject you."

I hoped he told the truth.

NOLAN

Chill the fuck out.

I kept on repeating these words to myself as I got ready for my date with Brooklyn. I couldn’t believe I was going on a date with her. I finished towel drying my hair and walked out of the bathroom, my hands twisting on my sides. You’d think I was a kid again.

I wanted it to be a good night for her, I wanted to show her that I was truly in. I had been inconsistent since I came back in her life and I needed to show her that it wasn’t who I was. She deserved to know I was not playing here, that I wanted more from her than only her body. For that, I needed to also tame the never-ending hard on I sported around her.

I groaned, quickly put on some clothes and grabbed my keys and phone, glancing nervously around my room to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. Damn, I was rusty. I didn’t even know what I should or shouldn’t do during our date. With Lena it’s sad to say, but I didn’t really go on a date with her. Not really. The last time I went on a proper date was when I was fourteen. After that, my interest had been only on getting laid. But Brooklyn was different.

I was out of my depth here and yet, even though I was a nervous wreck, I was thrilled. There wasn’t my relationship with Lena getting in the way anymore, I was just starting to see beyond our age gap and I could admit it without feeling disgusted with myself or ashamed. I wanted everything with Brooklyn; I wanted her friendship, that bond that was unbreakable, her body, her heart, her feelings an
d
he
r
. It was eating at me when I wasn’t with her and it was a rush when I had her in my arms. I had never felt something akin to this with someone else and I didn’t want to feel this with anyone else either.

But it was so frightening. So fucking frightening.

* * *

BROOKLYN

I was going on a date with Nolan Bell. Even in my mind I had a hard time believing it. All night I twisted and turned in my bed, thinking about what would happen, if he'd kiss me again, if he'd stop again. I had never been so turned on, so excited in my life.

I checked myself one last time and laughed at myself. My cheeks were all pink and my eyes bright. It'd been a while since I had last looked so alive. The tight black jeans and the chocolate sleeveless blouse I had on were good enough on me and perfect for our mysterious date. After all, Nolan had texted me and all he would tell me was to be ready for seven.

I bit on my lower lip as my heartbeat increased, following the perfect rhythm of the tic toc of the clock in my tiny kitchen. I clasped my hands on my knees, trying to stop shaking. It felt like a first date, the one you have when you're a teen and everything is all new and you have all these expectations bubbling inside. I just hoped that this first date would be better than the very first one I had in my early teen.

Then, tearing me from my worried thoughts, knocking at my door startled me. I jumped to my feet and ran to the door. I took a deep breath, forced a calm mask to my face and failed miserably. My cheeks felt burning hot. I took a last deep breath and opened the door.

Just seeing him on my doorstep was now breathtaking, he was here wearing a black blazer, a tight grey shirt underneath and black jeans hugging his hips perfectly. It made me lose my train of thought. I took a deep breath and a light scent of cologne hit me, sending sinful messages through my awaiting body. Even his scruff and lip ring seemed sexier.

His hazel eyes went up and down the length of my body, slowly, carefully. He was caressing me with just a look as if nothing was covering my skin. He bit on his piercing before his eyes settled on mine, bright and yet darker.

"Beautiful is too tame of a word to describe you, Brooklyn," he said, his voice deeper than I expected and my body immediately answered. My breasts felt heavier in my lacy bra and other parts of me were very sensitive all of a sudden.

Softly, he ran two fingers along my jaw in a whisper of a touch and I stopped breathing altogether. I willed my eyes not to close, but it was difficult. I wanted to revel in the touch of his soft skin on mine, of his warmth, of his willingness to touch me without being coerced to do so. Then, when I thought he'd stop, he let his fingers follow the path of my exposed neck and down to my collarbone. I knew he was looking at my pulse point which was frenetic, but I didn't want to hide the effect he had on me.

"We should go before I ruin our date," he said more to himself than me. He pulled away and smiled at me, but I could see that it was hard for him to stop and I soared at this. I couldn't help but smile.

"It wouldn't be ruined."

"I'm happy to know you have so much faith in my skills," he replied in a chuckle as I locked the door behind me.

I bumped my shoulder into his, registering how good he felt and how amazing it would be to grab his shoulders while he did sinful things to me. "Shut up." It felt so easy, so right to be with him. We were writing a whole new chapter in the story of our relationship and I think it's my favorite. "Where are we going? It's not like we have a lot of options around here.’’ We made our way to the car, bumping shoulders every few steps, our hand brushing softly against each other.

"I reserved at Papa Joe's. Is it okay with you?" he asked me obviously second guessing himself as he opened his car door for me. Who knew Nolan Bell was so chivalrous? He sure wasn't back in the days from what I heard about and the little I witnessed back then.

"I love it and you know it. Italian food is still my favorite." I smiled up at him as I climbed in his big posh car, butterflies in my belly at his thoughtfulness. He remembered that Italian food was my favorite.

He walked quickly to his side of the car and didn't waste any time before he drove us toward the restaurant that was close to the elementary school. "You once told me that you wanted to have a first date in this restaurant. I suppose you had a lot since then, but I don't know... I guess I thought it would be a good idea."

"It's a fabulous idea, Nolan."

He nodded but didn't look back at me. In fact, he was sitting so straight and his hands were so tight around the steering wheel that I wondered what was going on. He seemed just fine when he was on my door step.

"Are you nervous?" Not seeing any reaction, I pressed on. “Nolan?’’

He sighed and chuckled self-consciously, running a hand on his face where a light scruff had been catching my attention since I opened my door. He’s deliciously enticing and calling out to all my feminine parts, begging him silently to let his unshaved face do its magic on my skin. I squirmed on my seat, closing my legs more tightly as I pictured it. I was such a pervert sometimes!

“It’s just strange going on a date with you. I heard…’’ He sighed again and dropped his hand back to the stirring wheel.

“Let me guess,’’ I started, my voice more annoyed than ashamed. After all, I shouldn’t be ashamed of myself. I made these decisions, made choices that I don’t even regret, not even i
f
h
e
was ashamed. “You heard that I was easy enough to put out on the first date so it wouldn’t be that difficult for you. Or better yet, that I had so many dates that no matter what you couldn’t surprise me with anything.’’

He parked in front of the tiny restaurant, the neon red light ‘Papa Joe’s’ lightning the car and us. Neither one of us moved and I didn’t know what to say or do anymore. It was so frustrating to be with the guy of your dreams and yet having all this ridiculous stuff coming between us.

“I’m just worried because I don’t know what you expect from this date or from me. Brooklyn, I’m not used to dating.’’ He glanced at me, but quickly turned away, his eyes fixed on the door of the restaurant. “For years, I had been that guy trying to score as fast and easy as possible. Even with my ex I didn’t try very hard. She did all the work. All I did was take things lightly.’’ He took a deep breath. “It’s a first and it’s scaring the shit out of me.’’

“And you’re trying to tell me that my past doesn’t bother you?’’

“It’s your past. I hate to think about these guys.
I
hat
e
to think about it, but you’re not judging me so why should I judge you?’’

I shook my head and forced a smile on my face. “Let’s pretend that I believe you.’’

“Brooklyn…’’

“No, please! I don’t want to ruin this night. We shouldn’t be talking about that kind of stuff. I want to have fun, I want to enjoy dinner with you and just catch up with who you are right now. It’s what I care about tonight.’’

He nodded and turned off his car before he stepped out and rounded the car to open my door, a soft smile to his face. But that smile wasn’t easing the nervous lines around his eyes and mouth. I climbed out of the SUV and grabbed his hand before he walked away and towards the restaurant.

I tugged on his hand and he followed without a second thought, his body stopping a breath away from mine. In the humid and hot night, I felt his warmth burning between us, calling for my touch, for my body. It was potent, heady.

Slowly, I looked up from his strong chest hidden by a tight shirt and stopped a little longer on his mouth parted as his breathing got louder, faster as my perusal got more thorough. His lips, more thin than full but so very soft looking, were inviting, begging for a touch, for kisses. His cheeks were tinged with pink, what I was starting to realize was his tell. It was so darn cute! And hot. Then, his hazel eyes captured mine. The intensity in his gaze, the way his pupils were dilated, everything was telling me that he was seconds away from ravishing me and in a man, that kind of look was the hottest thing. That anticipation, that exaltation at thinking about what he’d do to you, at how you’ll react to his touches, kisses… All of this made me weak at the knees. I tightened my grip on his hand, sure that if I let it go I’d crumble to the ground from sheer desire. Just because of a fucking look! This man was good. Or maybe these years of pent up frustrations were messing with me, my body and my hormones.

With my hand still clasped on his, I closed the small space between us and tilted my head up just a little, not ready to break the eye contact yet. Not just yet. At this point, I wasn’t even sure if I was still breathing. My ears were buzzing and I felt dizzy and it could come from my lack of oxygen, but one thing was sure; my heart was beating at a crazy pace as my brain completely shut off. So close, I could see the darker ring around his eyes, the way his thick eyebrows were so well designed that it gave a real force to his eyes. I could even see the tiny wrinkles born from all his smiles, the smiles he used to reserve mostly for me back in the day.

Propelled with my blind desire, I went on my tip toes and brought my free hand to his strong shoulder, clasping the solid muscle there, begging for me to claw with my fingernails. In my head, I cursed the material of his shirt preventing me from skin to skin contact. My fingers only touched the soft and expensive shirt, but underneath, his heat seared me and the definition of his muscle had my attention even if I couldn’t look away from his eyes.

In a daze, I touched my lips to his, softly, slowly as to imprint the feel of his mouth on mine, just long enough to last through dinner without needing to climb on the small table and devour his face. That would be too much even for me. I liked to have the attention of people around me, but that would be pushing it. No need for me to come as insane.

When his lips began to move against mine, starting the entrancing dance that more often than not led to more, I stopped thinking about where we were, what tension was between us. I just felt. I felt his five o’clock shadow lightly scratching my skin, I felt the bite of the small piece of metal from his lip ring and then, when his lips were playing more thoroughly with my lower lip, the moist tip of his tongue traced the seam of my lips, begging for more. But he didn’t have to beg for long. He had me wrapped around his finger and so far it wasn’t such a bad thing. I opened my mouth and met him halfway, my tongue brushing his and making me sigh, almost moan. A low sound escaped him and I tightened my grip on his shoulder.

Suddenly, when I thought the kiss would ease to a stop, he brought up his hand to keep me anchored to his lips, to his mouth mimicking what I spent years dreaming about what he’d do with other parts of his body, other parts still hidden, but so very hard against my flat stomach. His hand delved into my hair, his fingers tight behind my head. This move was possessive, dominant and so very hot. And exactly what I needed without even knowing it.