Taking the Plunge (14 page)

15

Nancy packed her belongings on Friday morning, putting everything in the car. She had been working so much that she hadn’t seen her father once. He didn’t notice her absence and that just made her feel a million times worse. She wanted to yell at him for not showing up to the art show, but she realized it was pointless. Nothing she said would make him care. Thatcher was right. All he cared about was money.

Her friends were excited for her. Most of them had never been to California and they wanted a detailed report about the trip. Nancy felt nervous when she thought about spending the whole weekend with Thatcher. She loved being with him, every moment better than the previous, but that just made her feel worse.

Derek insisted that he take her to the airport. He walked her as far as he could do without a ticket and carried her luggage for her.

“Have fun,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I’ll try.”

He rubbed his nose against hers. “Why are you nervous?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“You’ll do fine. I doubt Thatcher would bring you along if he thought you would embarrass him.”

“Yeah.”

He kissed her on the forehead then the lips, the heat of his kiss spreading through her body. They still hadn’t had sex yet, and she could feel the sexual frustration leak from his skin.

“I’m sorry that I’m not ready,” she whispered.

“Don’t apologize, baby. My hand has been holding me over. And yes, I’ve been thinking about you.”

She blushed at his words.

“Have a good trip.”

“I will.”

“Text me when you get there, please.”

“I will.”

Thatcher walked over to them. “Ready?”

She turned to him. “Yes.”

Derek shook his hand. “Take care of her for me.”

Thatcher didn’t smile. “I’ll pick up your slack.”

Derek didn’t catch the insult. After another goodbye, he left.

Thatcher turned to her. “Shall we?”

She nodded.

He grabbed her luggage and they boarded the plan. When they took their seats, she realized they were sitting in coach.

“I’m surprised we aren’t flying first class.”

“I don’t see the point. We’re going to the same place, right?”

She smiled. “I like that you aren’t obsessed with your money.”

“Money isn’t real. It’s something society made up. People, emotions, and love are real.” He opened a novel from his bag and began to read. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. They were in the air and cruising at a high altitude. The TV at the front was playing a romantic comedy. She stared at it even though she couldn’t hear it. Thatcher didn’t bring up the incident from yesterday and neither did she.

Thatcher moved his hand and grabbed hers, holding her fingers in his own. She loved the touch so much, felt so safe, that she let him be. He continued to read while his fingers lightly caressed hers, making small circles in the skin.

When she got cold, she grabbed a blanket and pulled it over her body. Thatcher eyed her then directed her head to his shoulder, letting her lay on him. He still held her hand and moved it to his thigh.

“What are you reading?” she whispered. Her face was close to his neck and she could smell his cologne and his skin. The muscles of his shoulder were strong and solid.

“
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
.”

“You didn’t read that in high school?”

“I didn’t go to high school.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I was home schooled.”

“Oh. Why?”

“My mom has been a public school teacher her whole life. She just thought she would be a better teacher and spend my time more effectively. I read a lot of books, but I never had the time to read this. My mom let me borrow it last night.”

“You saw her?”

“Briefly.”

“Do you like it?”

“I like all books. I haven’t read one I haven’t liked.”

“What about Fifty Shades of Grey?” she teased.

“I liked it.”

She laughed. “Are you serious?”

“Women’s sexuality has been forbidden for so long. I’m glad that’s changing. The story wasn’t something I would normally read, but the message of the story was powerful. Women can enjoy sex and they should.”

“I didn’t realize you were so open-minded.”

“You should. I’m just like you.”

She didn’t say anything to his comment. Instead, she closed her eyes and breathed his scent. His warm hand still held hers. When she fell asleep, she had dreams she couldn’t remember. She just recalled seeing Thatcher’s eyes stare into hers.

After the plane landed, a car was waiting to pick up Thatcher. The driver grabbed the luggage and packed it into the trunk while they got into the backseat. Wordlessly, Thatcher sat beside her and held her hand again. She didn’t pull it away. He was obsessed with touching her.

“People are going to assume we’re together if you keep doing that,” she whispered.

“We are together.”

“No, we aren’t, Thatcher.”

“Then pull your hand away.” He challenged her by looking her in the eye. She wanted to pull away but she couldn’t. “That’s what I thought.”

They arrived at the hotel and entered the lobby. It contained chandeliers that hung from the ceiling and dark furniture that littered the floor. Nancy heard people speaking French and German and she wondered what they were doing in the city. Thatcher checked in at the front desk.

“I’ll send a bell boy to take your belongings into your room,” the receptionist said.

“That won’t be necessary,” Thatcher said. “I got it. Thank you.”

The woman looked surprised by his refusal. “Well, have a good day.”

Thatcher grabbed all the bags then moved into the elevator. She stood beside him, listening to the music play over the sound system. They said nothing, feeling the walls close in on them. When the doors opened, Thatcher carried the bags to the room and opened the door.

Nancy felt the anxiety return. “Why do we only have one room?”

He looked at her, a smirk on his face. “We have two. Don’t worry.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

He walked over and opened the door. “We have adjoining rooms.”

Her heart raced again.

Thatcher caught the look. “The door locks on both sides. If you really want to get away from me, you can.”

She grabbed her things and took them into her room. It had a bed, small kitchen, a bathroom, and a closet.

Thatcher knocked on the door.

“It’s open.”

He opened the door.
“I don’t have any plans today. I’ll be in my room if you need me. But I would like to go out to dinner tonight.”

“Okay.”

“So you’ll join me?”

“Yeah.”

“Great.” He closed the door and disappeared.

She texted Derek and told her she
was off the plane. Then she lay on her bed and wondered what she should do. Thatcher was in the next room and that’s all she could think about. She would rather be with him than do anything else. She walked to the door and knocked.

“It’s open,” he said.

She walked inside and saw him lying on the bed, shirtless, and he was watching television. Her eyes immediately looked at his body, liking what she saw. His pectoral muscles were lined with muscle and his stomach was chiseled with an eight pack. Now she wanted to start surfing because it was obviously a good work out.

He looked at her. “What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing.” She kept staring at his chest.

“Come here.”

She came to him like he asked, sitting on the bed.

Thatcher grabbed her and pulled her to him, making her rest her head o
n his chest. She turned into him, wrapping her arm around his waist. She gave into the desire and let herself hold him, feeling his bare skin against hers.

“There’s nothing on,” he said, flipping through the channels.

“I hate watching television.”

“I hardly ever do
. And when I do, I just watch Netflix.”

“Me too.
But I do it because I’m poor.”

“That’s going to change very soon.”

“I hope so. I can’t live with my dad anymore.”

He turned off the TV then turned on his side, facing her. His hand rested on the small of her back, slipping inside her shirt. “You didn’t talk to him?”

‘No. I haven’t seen him. I’ve been gone all week and he hasn’t even noticed.”

His hand rubbed her back, making her feel relaxed. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

“Sometimes you have to lose something to understand its worth.”

“If I moved out, he still wouldn’t notice I was gone.”

“You should tell him how you feel before you leave.”

“What’s the point?” she asked.

“It might be better for you than for him. You could get it off your chest and find closure. You did what you could to save the relationship. I realize he’s your dad, but family doesn’t have to be genetic. You know who your real family is.”

She felt closer to Thatcher than she did to anyone. Her best friends meant everything to her, but Thatcher was slowly filling that void even though she didn’t want him to. He was sinking his way into her heart, claiming her without giving her a choice.

“I really like your friend Henry. He’s a good guy.”

“I love him too,” she said with a smile.

“And your friend Andre, even though he wants to have sex with me.”

She laughed. “I apologize on his behalf.”

“There’s no need,” he said with a smile. “And I like Sydney. She seems very spiritual, very positive.”

“She’s awesome.”

“Your friend Laura….”

“She’s a slut. I know.”

He chuckled. “She isn’t
my type.”

“You don’t like easy girls?”

“No, not at all.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sleep around?”

“The only women I’ve slept with were people I was committed to, actually cared about. If I wanted to get off, I would just use my hand and be done with it.”

The idea of him masturbating made her skin burn. She found that innately sexy.

He looked into her eyes, catching the thought. “You’re into that?”

“What?”

“Masturbation.”

She changed the subject. “I’ve never met a guy that didn’t sleep around.”

“That’s just sad.”

“You’re different than other guys.”

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“It’s—good.”

“I know Derek likes to sleep around.”

“Please stop,
” she said.

He fell silent.

“I used to sleep around…”

“I don’t care about your past. If you were with me, you would never sleep with anyone else ever again.”

She didn’t know that to say to that.

“You accept the love you think you deserve, so you let guys walk all over you, treat you like shit. You aren’t used to me, which is why you’re scared of me. It’s something you’ve never experienced. You’ve never been with a guy that actually cared about you, that would slit his throat just to make you smile.”

She looked away from his eyes, staring at his chest.

“No one has ever told you they loved you, not your mom, your dad, Derek—”

“Stop.” She turned away from him, hiding her face.

He grabbed her and pulled her to his chest, holding her close. He fell silent, doing as she asked.

She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. Thatcher always said things that hit her right where it hurt, breaking her heart.

“I’m sorry that I upset you.”

“You did it intentionally.”

He paused. “Yes, I did. But you need to understand your emotions. You repress them all the time. If you just listened to your heart, you would
truly understand what you really want and need.”

“You, right?” She sniffed.

“Only you can answer that.”

She buried her face in his chest and fell silent. He stroked her hair and kept her close to him, silently showering her with affection.
They stayed that way for a long time, letting the time pass them by. Nancy didn’t want to move because she loved feeling his large chest swell against her back, making her lungs move at the same pace. She lied in his arms, loving every moment, without speaking. When the sun left the skyline, they lay in the darkness.

“Hungry?” he whispered.

She nodded.

“Let’s go out to dinner.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Somewhere nice.”