The Impostor, A Love Story (15 page)

I spotted Dylan by the glow of the fire, so
sexy. I made my way over to him.

“This is beautiful.” I sighed.

“So are you.” His eyes met mine, arousing me.
Just seeing him in the radiance of the fire excited me. So
stunning. So charming.

“We ordered for you. Do you want to check it
over just in case?” Dylan handed me the menu.

“I’m sure it will be perfect, thank you.”

Chris walked in with a bottle of wine and
four glasses. Filling each one, he handed them out, and we lifted
the glasses for a toast.

Dylan took my hand and led me to the couch in
front of the fireplace. Emily and Chris made their way to the couch
next to ours.

“The northern lights won’t show up for a few
hours, so I thought we could sit by the fire while we wait for the
food to arrive,” Chris explained.

Dylan put his arm around me. He gently tucked
the strands of hair that hid my eyes behind my ear. Timidly, I
glanced down.

“I thought of someplace I want to take you
tomorrow. It’s a long hike, but the view is worth it.”

Chris added, “We were talking about it while
you were resting. I’ll still be in town tomorrow. You an Em should
stay over. You and Dylan can take the guest room if you like
tonight.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” I whispered to Dylan,
leaning my forehead towards his.

“She can stay in Amber’s room, and I’ll stay
in the guest room,” Dylan spoke for me.

“Of course, whatever you want. The point is
you all can stay here. That way I can open up a few more bottles of
wine.”

“I’d like that,” I smiled. “Thank you,” I
mouthed to Dylan. I really appreciated that Dylan didn’t pressure
me. I answered before I spoke to Emily, but I hoped she would
understand. I wasn’t ready for this fairy tale to be over. Dylan
was leaving soon, and there was a part of me that wondered if I’d
ever see him again.

“And young lady,” Chris turned to Emily, “you
can stay wherever you like as well.” He looked deep into Emily’s
eyes. I could tell he was about to kiss her.

“To being with you.” Dylan raised his glass.
We took a sip of the wine and then set the glasses on the table
beside us. He leaned over and kissed me. It felt pure, so true.

Suddenly there was a chime at the door. “I’ll
be right back.” Both Dylan and Chris got up to answer the doorbell.
The food had arrived. You could tell they were arguing about who
would pay the check. Emily and I smiled at each other. So different
than the jerks we left at home.

After a few moments, the gentlemen came over
and took our hands. They led us into a dining room with candles
everywhere. The table was decorated with flowers and fine china.
Soft music serenaded us. The waiter, Kyle, stayed and served us as
if we were in one of the finest of restaurants. They thought of
every detail. It was seamless: the laughter, the music, the food,
the romance.

“Kyle, can we have another bottle of wine?”
Chris asked the waiter, turning to us. “After this one, we should
head outside if you want to see the lights.”

Dylan went with Chris to the back and brought
us a stack of blankets. We laid some blankets under us and wrapped
ourselves in the others. Dylan sat down, and I nestled in front of
him. He gently kissed my neck.

A greenish hue started to slowly engulf the
sky.

“Oh my god, look.”

Dylan smiled at my excitement. The bright,
starry night became the perfect backdrop for the incredibly bright,
multihued glow that soon covered the sky. The display began with a
green haze and soon was dancing with red, blue, and purple
patterns. Curtains of light rippled through the sky and then
suddenly disappeared, only to reappear in new shapes moments
later.

“It’s magic.”

Dylan’s body sheltered me in warmth. The
gentle pulsation in his chest harmonized with mine as we watched
the dance of lights. The magical display lasted for about half an
hour. When they ended, I laid my head on his chest and turned so I
was curled in his lap.

“Goodnight.” Emily and Chris went inside
wrapped in their blankets.

When they left, Dylan’s lips met mine. I
sampled his mouth . . . his neck. “I can’t believe you are
leaving,” escaped my lips without warning. A sadness came over me
as I realized he would soon be gone. I breathed in. “Where are you
going on tour?” I questioned, hoping to hide my disappointment. We
hadn’t really talked about him leaving before—it made it easier.
But it was too close now to deny.

“Tour? I’m not going on tour with the guys
this time. I’ll actually be starting my contract on the Slope.”

“You work on the Slope? You’re not touring
with the band.”

“Yeah, I got the job right before I met you.
The contract starts next week. I have to go up for four weeks. When
I’m off, I’m only home for two weeks, and then I have to go back
up.”

“Bradley told me about the Slope, but he
didn’t say you worked up there.”

“Yeah, I’m not advertising it. It’s better if
people just assume the band is going on tour together. Justin
didn’t want to start rumors that we were breaking up. Bradley
knows, but we asked him not to say anything.”

“Is the band breaking up?”

“No, I’ll go on tour with them when I get
home. They are going to be playing a lot without me, but they’ll
survive. I asked if they would play back up here when I go home so
I can see you, but it’s really up to Justin. He decides where we
play.”

It was coming to an end. I didn’t know what
to say. The reality that he was leaving in a week depressed me. He
could see the sadness in my eyes.

“The pay on the Slope is really good. Working
up there is my way of getting control over my life. My parents have
money, but the money comes with a leash.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I guess that would be hard.”
I’d probably never see him again. He lived in Washington State, and
when he wasn’t working, he would be on tour. But despite the
nagging feeling inside my stomach, I didn’t regret a minute that we
were together.

“I want to come and visit you when I’m off.
Maybe I can fly in for a few days, or maybe you can come to visit
me on tour.”

I didn’t want to think about it. If we only
had a week left together, I wanted to enjoy it. “Let’s just pretend
this will last forever.” The moisture from where our lips had
ventured began to freeze in the cold, and so we finally made our
way to the fireplace and draped the covers by the couch.

Emily and Chris were not there. They had gone
to bed. The warmth of the fire was inviting. I rubbed my hands
together, blowing in them.

Dylan picked up the remote control and the
stereo began. Violins sang to us.

“May I have this dance?” He bowed like we
were in an old movie. “This is a beautiful waltz.”

“Waltz . . . you mean the box dance?” I asked
ignorantly.

He pulled me up off the couch and
began in a refined voice, “Austrian music
scholar Max Graf wrote,
‘If there exists a form
of music that is a direct expression of sensuality, it’s the
Waltz
. . . .’ It was considered a scandalous dance at
first, b
anned in parts of
Switzerland.
‘In those days, there was something
unsavory about a woman being gripped in a man’s embrace while
whirling in a frenzy around the dance floor.
’”

He pulled me
close.

“
To be done right, the bodies
have to become almost one—like this.” He again proceeded with the
overly-dramatic voice. ‘
People
were highly
shocked at the eroticism of this dance in which a lady clung to her
partner, closed her eyes as in a dream, and glided off as if the
world had disappeared. The waltz melodies overflow with
longing
.’”

Dylan touched my
face
.
“Desire and
tenderness.”
He leaned in and
kissed my lips
, then
continued, “Close your eyes. Listen to the
music. Doesn’t it just take you away? Some people will tell you the
dance is just about stepping the one, two, three beats you hear in
the music. But there is also a rise and fall and sway motion that
helps you become part of the dream. When I lift my hand like this,
it’s a signal to turn. When I step forward, you step back. It’s
about our bodies working completely together to create something
beautiful. And you have to pretend you are royalty in this dance.
It’s all about posture and twirling as one.”

My midriff was pressed against
his and as he straightened his posture. I mimicked his
stance.

“
Give me some resistance in
your hand so you can feel what I’d like you to do. A gentle
pressure will be how we communicate, not words. You will have to
read my body.”

I gently pressed my hand
against his.

“
Perfect,” he encouraged, “now
listen to the music. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two,
three.”

The violins did entice me to
become one with the music.
One, two, three. One,
two, three
. He stepped forward, to the
side, and brought his feet together. Then he stepped back, to the
side, pulling me with him in all of the steps. He began in the box
step so I could pick up the timing, but soon we traveled across the
floor. His embrace was tight and our frame, erect. I could feel
what he wanted me to do by the way he touched me.

The dream really began as
another song came on.
Oh, how I love Nat King
Cole
. He proceeded to serenade me,
sweeping me across the dance floor—I mean living room. No, it was a
royal ballroom and I was a princess.

“
It was fascination, I
know.

Seeing you alone with
the moonlight above
Then I touch your hand

And next moment I kiss
you,

Fascination turned to
love.”

Yes, I was transported to
this magical place, a utopia and he . . .he was my Prince
Charming.

“
Fascination turned - to
– love.”

As the song ended, he
dipped me. Disappea
ring into my eyes, he leaned down and his
lips met mine.

He lifted me in his arms, kissing me as we
walked toward the guest bedroom. I so wanted to go. I so wanted to
be all his, to continue the dream, but I needed to wait. He was
leaving in a week—perhaps forever. I couldn’t give myself to him. I
knew if we were in the room together, I wouldn’t be able to control
my desire. What if I never saw him again? I couldn’t torture myself
like that.

“Dylan, I’m sorry.” I so wanted to make love
to him. “I’m not ready.” I was trying to convince myself as
well.

“Then stay with me here. Let me hold you. I
need to feel you in my arms.” He brought me back to the couch,
setting me on his lap, and kissed me. “I love the taste of your
lips.” He gently lay me down and slid his body on top of me. I
could feel the muscles in his body flex as he pressed our bodies
down onto the couch.

He stared into my eyes and a smile covered
his face.

“So beautiful.” He leaned in to kiss me. “You
know,” he whispered and kissed my check, “I have never done this
before.” He kissed my other cheek as if playing with me.

“What?” I was confused.

“It’s taking every ounce of control I have,
not to pick you up and bring you into the room and make love to
you.” He Eskimo-kissed me. “I have never wanted anyone so bad.” His
seductive brown eyes stared into mine.

“Should I leave? Would that be easier?”

“No, I can do this.” He kissed me. “I can do
this, but don’t say I never did anything for you.” He smiled. “I
can wait.” He leaned in to kiss me again tenderly. “I will
wait.”

Each kiss became more and more passionate and
he rolled me over on top of him forgetting we were on a couch. Our
bodies crashed onto the floor. “You okay?” He confirmed I was and
we began laughing hysterically. “I guess this is a sign. I better
stop.” He traced my lips with his fingers. “Your lips are so
dangerous. I could kiss you forever.” He pulled my body closer to
his.

I sighed. His body felt so warm, so
strong.

His fingers gently played with my hair. “But
I better stop, or I can’t guarantee I will behave myself.” He
wrapped his arms around me, cuddling, as the sweet lullaby of the
fire serenaded us to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, he was
watching me sleep and gently outlining my features with his
fingertips. I opened my eyes.

A grin burst on his lips. “So, you’re my
first. It’s official.”

Confused, I tilted my head like a puppy in
thought.

“I made it through the night, and you are
still fully clothed.” His face erupted in an even bigger smile.
“I’ve never done this before. I’m venturing in unchartered waters,
Ms. Nicole. What are you doing to me?”

“Em, they found another body. Look.” I ran
over to her with a newspaper someone had left on the table. She
stopped and reading the article.

Brad walked into the bar, grabbed the
newspaper out of her hand, and smacked me on the backside with it.
“You better get to work, or I’ll murder you myself.” Brad joked. He
thought it was silly how into it we were. He motioned to a table of
people waiting to be served.

I quickly pivoted around, trying to take my
mind off the article. “Can we have two Budweisers and a White
Russian?”

Dylan picked me up from work, and we spent a
few hours together before the band played. A mixture of excitement,
of comfort, of giddiness filled me when we were together. The part
of me that had become numb and lifeless was being probed and
stimulated by sensors and the world was fresh and new. Dylan made
me feel like I could do anything. I really didn’t want it to
end.