The Impostor, A Love Story (14 page)

Mixed emotions taunted me—one of awe at the
painting and one of sadness. A piece of me died several years ago,
and this was the world I left behind.

A tear started to build like a wave ready to
crash to the shore. I quickly wiped it away before revealing any
sign of regret. But another started to form, and I realized I
wasn’t quite ready to be here.

“Dylan this is so wonderful, but can we
leave?” My voice became quiet, weak.

“What’s wrong?”

I wiped away another tear and took a deep
breath.

“It’s a long story. Can we please go?” I
whispered, my thumb playing with his hand.

“Of course we can. I’m so sorry. I saw the
way you lit up on the boat when you saw all the sea animals, and so
when I heard Christian Riese Lassen was having his exhibit here, I
thought you would like it. He’s a surfer from Maui and is known
worldwide for his seascapes. Are you sure you don’t want to see his
paintings? I really think you’ll love them.”

“This is so sweet of you, but I do need to
leave.”

Another tear escaped my eye, reminding me of
the beatings I received when I spoke of art or pursuing my dreams.
Unconsciously, my hand went to the ribs that had been separated
after Emily and I went to see a Rodin collection. I had no idea why
this museum affected me so much. I was safe. Ronald couldn’t hurt
me anymore. Perhaps it was because I was surrounded by so much
beauty here in Alaska, and I was unable to capture it. Picking up a
paintbrush was still too painful. Or perhaps it was the fact Dylan
brought me here. It was like he could see into my soul. I never
told him . . . how did he know?

I couldn’t speak. Tears rolled down my face,
yet my lips didn’t make a sound.

“I’m sorry, Nicole.” He gently wiped the
tears from my eyes, kissing my forehead.

I felt stupid. “You didn’t do anything
wrong,” I finally managed to say. “This is sweet. This is so
sweet.” I glanced up at him. He appeared concerned, mad at himself
for somehow hurting me. I bashfully bit my lip, looking into his
eyes as I embraced him.

“I’m sorry for being so ridiculous.”

“Shh, I’m the one that is sorry,” His mocha
eyes peeked out from his lashes. He examined my lips, tracing them
with his fingers.

His stare filled me with such warmth. I
studied his mouth—succulent and partially opened. Licking my lips,
my head started gravitating toward his, and another tear came to my
eyes.

“God, I feel stupid,” I wiped at it as it
tickled my cheek. “You must think I’m an idiot.” I took a deep
breath, scanning the room to see how many people I humiliated
myself in front of.

I knew I needed to get past my anxiety.
“Dylan, I’d love to see Christian Riese Lassen’s artwork,” I said
with a little sniffle. “Can we try this again?”

He took my hand and we went back into the
gallery. We got another glass of wine, and he took me to
Christian’s exhibit.

I stood in front of his piece
Tropical
Memory
. Serene, utter harmony. I loved how he used the whites
and colors to illuminate the water and how it was a mixture between
the perfection of reality and magic of fantasy. Dylan stood behind
me tracing his fingertips down my arms as he did to warm me in
Seward. For a moment, I felt we were standing on the deck of the
boat as the dolphins danced before us. The art brought the same
peace.

From within, a smile began in my heart and
took over my face. Tears came to my eyes again.

Dylan brushed the hair off my neck and gently
kissed it. “You okay?”

“Now you’re really going to think I’m
stupid,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. He would never know
the gift he gave me. I pulled his arms around me, resting my head
on his chest as we studied the painting.

“It is beautiful, so beautiful.” I could feel
freedom permeate under my skin. Everyone disappeared as we
experienced Christian’s masterpieces.

We began walking through the exhibit, and I
stopped at a painting, feeling the warmth come to my face. The
title of the piece was
Falling in Love Again
.

“You are so different.” My eyes moistened.
“You are so different than I thought you’d be.” I pulled his arms
around me even tighter.

“What do you mean?” He turned my body around
so I was facing him.

“I don’t know.” I paused for a moment. “I
kind of thought you were a jerk.”

“Well, thank you.” I don’t think that was the
response he expected.

“I mean. . . when I met you, you were with a
different girl every night. You seemed so cocky. Now you seem so .
. . I don’t know . . . this was so sweet of you, Dylan.” I stared
at him, trying to read him. “You used to have one-night stands all
the time, and you haven’t even tried to kiss me yet. Is this
real?”

He gently brushed my hair out of my face. “I
come from an uptight family. They try to control me. I guess
sleeping around was one way of rebelling. But then I met a girl who
made me realize it was meaningless, and I guess I kinda fell for
her. I have never felt anything more real.”

He traced my lips again with his fingertips.
“As to why I haven’t tried to kiss her yet, I guess I want her to
know she is different than anyone I have ever been with. Nicole, I
have wanted to taste your lips since you were sassy with me that
first day I met you. I realized you thought you were just another
girl to me, but since I met you, I’m becoming a different man. The
things I thought were important to me have somehow been turned
upside down, and all that matters now is you.”

What the hell was wrong with me
? My
eyes became a fountain once more. I was experiencing emotions I had
locked away safe for so long.

A warm feeling came over me and then a sudden
chill. Exploring my mouth with his gentle touch, he fixated on my
lips as he leaned forward. My heart pulsated, making it hard for me
to breath. He leaned in closer. I stopped breathing. A tiny flutter
began in my stomach and traveled up my body, tickling even behind
my neck.

I watched as his lips gravitated toward mine.
Like a magnet, he pulled me in. His lips were warm, moist. I
shivered.

Tasting my lips, he smiled. “Salty,” he said,
making reference to my tears. He pulled his head away so he could
look into my eyes. Taking my face in his hands, he wiped the
remaining tears with his thumbs.

I finally sucked in some air in staccato
breaths as he bent forward again. Goosebumps covered my skin as I
felt his lips coming toward me.

“I’m sorry. I have been so . . .” He shut me
up with another kiss.
So soft. So delicious. My breath still
uneven. Overwhelmed
. Bringing my body closer, he sampled my
neck. I sighed.

His body pressed against me. I could feel his
strength, yet he kissed me so tenderly. I almost collapsed. I felt
light-headed, savoring his lips. Nothing remained clear to me
anymore. The museum, the noise, the world, vanished.

“Excuse me,” a stranger’s voice interrupted.
I couldn’t stop. Dylan, too, ignored the voice until it gradually
got louder and harsher. “Excuse me, but you can’t do that
here.”

Dylan pulled his head away from mine and
smiled. My heart was still racing, my breath still quivering. I
could feel my cheeks warm. We broke out in a chuckle when we
realized we were officially getting kicked out of the museum for
kissing.

Grabbing my hand, he led me out of the museum
quickly. Once we were outside, we began laughing hysterically.

“Oh my god, I knew you were a troublemaker.”
I laughed, still short on breath.

“Me? It was you who looked so kissable.
You’re the troublemaker.”

“I can’t believe we got kicked out of there.
That, I think, is a first. I feel like I’m in junior high or
something.” I bent over. My sides began to ache from the
laughter.

“I’m sorry. I got a little carried away.” He
took me in his arms again. “I just have waited for so long to
experience your lips.” Slowly leaned over, “I hope we don’t get
arrested for this.” His lips were so
appetizing
. Pulling me so close, we became one as we
kissed.

“Excuse me.” We heard a security guard’s
voice break through, and both of us immediately broke out in
laughter again.

“You are so bad.” I playfully hit him.

“Me? I’m an angel.” He tried to act innocent,
joking about the wanted posters that would soon be plastered across
town. He leaned in to kiss me again.

“Excuse me!”

A few weeks passed, and each day Dylan
continued to surprise me. I had never dreamed of meeting someone so
romantic. Wednesday evening at work there was no one sitting in my
section, so I walked over to the bar to pass the time with Brad. I
reached for the locket around my neck to fidget with it. I liked to
move it back and forth on the chain while I was thinking, but I
realized I had left it next to the shower again.

“I really like him, Brad. He’s so sweet to
me.”

He placed his hand on top of mine, concerned
that I was falling too hard. “Nicole, I just don’t want to see you
get hurt. He doesn’t have the best reputation with women. I’m
worried about you. I’ve seen him break a lot of girls’ hearts.”

“You’re such a sweetheart, Bradley. What
would I do without you?” I lifted myself up on the bar and gave him
a kiss on the check. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m a big girl.” I
took his hand and gave it a little squeeze.

Brad had filled my order. For a moment I was
so engaged in our conversation, I forgot I was at work. I picked up
the tray of drinks. As I turned, I noticed Steve had approached the
bar with his coat and gloves on. He’d already paid his bill and
left me a generous tip, so I wondered why he was there. “Did you
forget something?” I asked Steve before making my rounds.

“Can I get a couple beers to go?” he asked
Brad.

“I really can’t.” Brad wiped down the
counter, not giving it much thought.

“Are you sure, Brad? He comes in all the
time.” I piped in.

“I won’t open them till I get home,” Steve
explained. “I just don’t want to have to make another stop.”

“Can you do it just this once, Brad? He’s
only had a few beers. He isn’t drunk or anything.”

“I can’t open them,” Brad commented
sternly.

“I understand.”

“All right. Just this once.” Brad gave
in.

“He drinks Budweiser,” I revealed. “Thank
you, Bradley.”

Brad reached into the refrigerator, pulling
out two cold beers. He handed them to Steve. Steve grabbed the
bottles by their caps with his gloves.

“Do you want me to put them in a bag?”

“That would be great.” Steve placed the beers
back on the counter so Brad could put them in the bag. Steve
watched carefully. Pleased, the corners of his mouth curled. He
paid Brad and walked out the door.

When he left, I explained that Steve was an
incredible tipper, and I didn’t want to risk upsetting him. I
thanked Brad for making the exception.

“I better not get my license revoked,” He
commented, half joking. “If he opens them in the parking lot and I
get in trouble, you are going down with me.”

“You can trust him. He’s a good guy.”

Dylan and Chris showed up at the bar around
ten. Another band was playing, so Dylan had the night off.

“I called Bradley, and he said you all could
leave early. You said you wanted to see the Northern lights, and
they are going to be amazing tonight.”

Chris said, “We can watch them on my deck,
since we’re away from the city lights—you’ll love the view.”

“That sounds perfect. Is that okay with you,
Nicole?” Emily asked.

I put my arms around Dylan. “Of course it
is.”

Dylan led me out of the bar. “There’s a great
restaurant in town that’ll deliver whatever you want: steak,
lobster, crab legs, or sushi. They’ll even send over a waiter to
serve us so we can relax and watch the Aurora Borealis with a glass
of wine in our hands.”

When we pulled into the gas station, we saw a
blue truck pulling out of the club. It appeared to be the same kind
as the one we had seen on the highway weeks before.

“Wait, that’s Steve’s truck.” I stared out
the window.

“Yeah, I think it’s Steve.” Emily agreed.

“But he left the club hours ago. What’s he
still doing there? Brad is going to kill me if he drank those beers
in the parking lot.”

While we waited inside Chris’s SUV, we saw
Steve peer around like he was searching for someone and make a
quick right turn as if he were in a hurry.

“
I’ve never done this before.

I’m venturing in unchartered waters, Ms.
Nicole.

What are you doing to me?”

~Dylan Richardson

I had fallen asleep in the car. Sitting up on
a girl’s bed, I rubbed my eyes and looked around.

“We’re in Amber’s room.” Emily stated,
starring in the mirror, putting on lip gloss. “She is Chris’s
sister.”

I hadn’t realized how tired I was. “What time
is it?” I stretched, letting out a big yawn.

“Don’t worry, you haven’t been sleeping long.
You haven’t missed anything. Dylan carried you in. He didn’t want
to wake you up. It was cute.”

I bit my lip, grabbing the pillow into my
arms. “I’ve never felt like this before, Em,” I confided in her. “I
have to tell him about Jess, but I’m scared. I don’t want this to
end.”

“He really likes you, Nicole. I can
tell.”

“And Chris . . . I can tell he really likes
you, Emily. He’s a sweetheart.”

“He is, isn’t he? But don’t you dare let him
know.” She blushed.

We entered the living room. The fire
crackled. Candles decorated the tables with a romantic hue as soft
music played in the background.