The Watcher (6 page)

And stealing my breath

Until it only comes in short gasps

I can no longer contain you

In this dusty little memory box

You’ve come to life once more

And seeped deeper

Into my pores

That I ever thought

Was possible

He paused, taking a deep breath, and I waited for him to tell me how awful it was.

“You wrote this last night?” he asked.

“Y...yes,” I managed to stutter, my face turning red in shame. “It hasn’t been edited or re-written yet so it’s still very raw and probably needs a lot of work. It was the only thing I had with me, but I wanted to share. I know it’s probably not your type of thing –”

“Lily, stop,” he interrupted my nervous ramblings. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read. Please don’t change a single line.”

“Really?” I asked. “You actually like it?”

“I love it,” he said emphatically. “You have talent. I can’t wait to read more. Let me ask you a question though,” he said.

“Sure,” I answered happily.

Who is the subject?” he asked quietly. I tried to look down, not wanting to tell him the truth. I wasn’t ready to divulge my secrets to him. However, he had other plans. He reached over and lightly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

“Never look down when I ask you a question, Lily. You have nothing to be ashamed of when answering anything I ask you.”

“I didn’t want you to see me blush again,” I blurted out.

“I happen to like it when you’re blushing. It’s incredibly sexy, watching that pink creep up your face, knowing that I’m the cause. It’s also incredibly sexy watching your eyes darken with longing when you look into mine. I want you to look me in the eye whenever you speak to me.”

I sat across from him and stared. I had no idea how to respond to this kind of brutal honesty. His tone had become commanding, intense, and had an edge to it, almost as if he was holding something back. His eyes had darkened to a hunter green color and were startling to behold. They held passion, and longing, and secrets. Secrets I was suddenly afraid to know, but desperately wanted to find out.

“You,” I replied in a soft whisper, “It’s about you.” I waited for his laugh, the rejection that would inevitably follow my confession. I was so used to men laughing at me for writing poetry about them. No one had ever really taken the time to read my poems or see their hidden meanings. I wrote from the heart, trying not to hold back. The men in my life had been cruel and unappreciative so I expected the same from Gabriel. I really should have known better.

His eyes widened in surprise. He moved his hand from my chin and took both of my hands. He stared at me for a few moments, not saying anything. I almost looked away, embarrassed by his silence, but remembered his warning. Something told me Gabriel was a man you didn’t disobey. God was that hot.

“Thank you, Lily,” he whispered. It was disconcerting to see him knocked off kilter. I had stunned him. This man, who was so quietly intimidating, was at a loss for words. After a few more moments of silence, he brought my hands to his lips, kissed each one softly, and stood up to leave. As he stood up, he pulled his hood up and winked at me.

“See you on Friday, Lily.” Then he turned to leave.

“Wait!” I said.

He turned back around, “Yes beautiful?” My breath caught in my throat. I had completely forgotten what I was going to say. I sat there dumbstruck. He smirked again, and I swear that smirk was getting sexier and sexier. He crossed his arms in front of him, patiently waiting for me to speak.

“I don’t know your last name,” I managed to get out.

“Well then, we’ll have to rectify that, won’t we? I guess you’ll just have to see me again to find out. Seeing as how I know how curious you are, I’m guaranteed to have you in the seat I save for you on Friday, aren’t I?” And he disappeared into the crowd. My mouth was hanging open as I stared after him. Wow. And dammit, it was only Tuesday! How the hell was I supposed to wait until Friday to dig deeper into this man’s life?

I sat back down, lost in thought and sipped on my espresso. I texted Emma and told her I needed girl time stat.

Are you ok?
she replied.

Just had a run in with my stalker.

OMG. Lunch and bookstore STAT.
She liked to talk in all caps when she was excited. My life is usually pretty dull, so this news was definitely caps worthy.

*****

Gabriel

Even though I had only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before, I jumped out of bed, ready to greet the day, as soon as the sun popped up. I wanted to be able to meet Lily right after she got her coffee. I knew how much she loved those pumpkin scones, but she always warred with herself about whether or not the calories would show. Fucking Ryan and his own insecurities had made my girl a nervous wreck about the smallest calorie counts. This alone made me wonder why she hadn’t left him. She was holding on to something, and someone, who was long gone.

Who didn’t fucking deserve her. On that note, why the fuck was he still hanging onto
her
? It was so obvious to me that neither of them was happy. Why did these humans hang on so long to something that was no longer there? Anyone a mile away could tell that neither Ryan nor Lily loved each other anymore.

I knew Lily was fiercely loyal and that she didn’t take her marriage vows lightly. Maybe she was merely holding on because she felt it was the right thing to do, whereas that asshat of a husband of hers couldn’t care less. Hopefully I could work on getting her to see that someone out there actually cared about her and saw her for the amazing woman she was.

After showering and dressing in the outfit she’d become accustomed to seeing me in (black hoodie and jeans, although this time I was wearing a sweatshirt with the Wicked Broadway musical logo on it since I knew she loved that show,) I stepped into the long line at Starbucks to get a coffee. I saw her waiting for her “poor man’s latte” on the other side and shot her a quick text asking if she wanted a scone, which I was getting for her no matter what. She seemed confused so I asked her once more if she’d like a scone with her poor man’s latte, (I couldn’t wait to see how she reacted to me teasing her).

How do you know my drink order? Are you stalking me?
came her reply. I chuckled quietly

Some might call it stalking. I prefer admiring from afar
I typed with a huge grin on my face. I could sense that she was smiling.

She typed back,
I’d love one.
That’s my girl, I thought. I flirted a little more,

What, a stalker?

I heard the tinkle of her laugh rise above the low hum of everyone else talking. I suddenly wanted to hear her laugh at my corny jokes every day...and every night as I moved in and out of her luscious body. Shit, focus Gabriel, I chastised myself. She replied back with a “ha-ha” and a clarification. God she was fucking adorable. I decided to bring out the big guns with my flirting.

As you wish
I typed in response. I could almost hear her sigh as she headed to grab us a table.

Nailed it.

After picking up the coffee and scone, I made my way through the crowd to the table in the back. I quietly slid the scone across the table and watched her face light up. I’ve always been a simple man, reveling in small pleasures, so to see her face light up at such a small gesture made my heart constrict. Could this woman be different from the rest?

“Hi,” I said quietly.

“Good morning,” she said, “Thank you for the scone.” I smiled inwardly at the stiffness of her tone. I made her nervous and I loved every minute of it. I also loved pushing my limits so I decided to lower my voice just a little, see if she liked the sound of her name when I said it.

“You’re welcome Lily Maracle,” I said huskily. That gorgeous blush quickly crept up her throat and face. I wanted to kiss a trail from her collar to the sensitive spot right behind her ear.  I also saw a spark light in her eyes, one I hadn’t seen before and wondered what was in store for me next.

“I guess it would have been more polite to say, ‘Thank you, Stalker’ huh?” Since we’re on a first name basis and all.”

I threw my head back and laughed at her smart ass comment. Fuck, I loved it when she talked back to me. I knew she had a sassy side, but it had rarely come out in the last two years. She was always worrying about work or bills or her husband. I shook my head, still laughing.

“I deserved that,” I said as I stuck my hand out to shake hers. She looked apprehensive as she regarded my outstretched hand. Slowly she put her small hand in mine and shook it.

“My name is Gabriel,” I said softly as I gripped her hand tighter so she couldn’t pull away. I wanted to study those hands like she had studied for that last final. They were small and porcelain with long slender fingers.

“You have beautiful hands, Lily, like those of a piano player.” She began blushing again and rambled on about how her mom used to say the same thing and how she’d played a fake organ at her grandma’s as a kid. God she was adorable. I was turning into that teenaged girl again with all these damn feelings she was stirring inside me. Abruptly she stopped speaking and looked down into her lap.

“What?” I asked. She mumbled an apology about rambling when she’s nervous. I couldn’t help but take a little evil delight in the fact that I made her nervous. I couldn’t wait to push her limits and see how nervous I could make her. We made small talk for a little while and I learned how old she was. I watched in delight as she looked at me in disbelief when I told her my age. Forty-two is the number I give everyone who asks, as I can only imagine their faces when I tell them the truth, 142.

I caught her staring at me several times while we chatted, drinking me in like she was dehydrated. We talked about my jobs and my love of music and which instruments I play. She admitted to wanting to hear me play sometime, so I invited her to my club. I usually played Friday nights for open mike to encourage newcomers. I didn’t tell her I owned the club, though. I wanted to get her there before divulging any secrets. I was so afraid of spooking her. Plus with it being only Tuesday, it wouldn’t seem like we were rushing into things. It would give her plenty of time to weigh all the pros and cons or even back out if she wanted. The urge to invite her to dinner tonight struck me hard. I wasn’t ready to leave her just yet. That’s when I knew I should leave. I knew her enough by now to know she needed time to make a fully thought out decision. I’d watched her impulsiveness slowly die over the last two years with the stresses of work and home.

She agreed to come hear me sing and I promised to save her a seat. I needed to be near her a little longer, so I asked for her life story, only joking of course. I wanted her to laugh and open up just a little to me. She stilled at my question and I assured her I was kidding. I asked her the basics, where she grew up, what she did for a living, why she was in school. I already knew all of these answers, but the fear in her eyes when I asked for her story was extremely unsettling. I knew she’d had a rough childhood, as I’d heard her mention it to her friend Emma before. But I didn’t know how bad it was. I wanted to take her in my arms and soothe her pain away...the other part of me wanted to show her a different kind of pain. The kind that brought pleasure when done right. I wondered what she’d look like tied to my bedpost, naked, and spread out for me to feast on.

I shook my head slightly and brought myself back to reality. She was talking about how she wanted to be a writer and I politely inquired about her current writing. She complained that she thought her writing was too romantic and girly and I argued that good writing comes from the heart and couldn’t possibly be terrible if she’s honest with it. She looked at me in awe and admitted she’d never thought of it like that. She also admitted that she was afraid to try to publish it as it was extremely personal. I silently and not so silently gave her kudos for that. I’d actually never read anything she’d written. That passion had also dwindled these last couple of years and it tore me apart to see her suffer in silence.

I had taken her hand in mine while I reassured her and the longer I held it, the harder my dick grew. I had never gotten hard from holding a woman’s hand before. I was amazed at how something so innocent and casual could have such an effect on me. I let her move her hand first, as I wasn’t ready to let her go. She asked me if I’d like to read what she’d written and I said I’d love to, my voice a little more affected than I would have liked. I didn’t want her to spook because I couldn’t contain myself. I watched her shudder at the low tone of my voice and she pushed her open journal over to me. I held back a grin as she pulled her hands away rather quickly and hid them in her lap. I wondered if she could sense how dangerous I could be, if only she’d let me.

I smiled at her and began to read out loud, my voice purposefully low and sexy this time. Seeing how I had affected her gave me the confidence to let out a little of what I was feeling...just to test the waters. My voice grew increasingly rough as I read through her beautifully written poem. That teenaged girl inside me screamed that she wanted it to be about me. I hoped against hope that this was just the beginning of the effect I had on Lily.  I paused at the end and took a deep breath, willing my voice not to shake. I asked if she had written this last night, crossing my internal fingers that she had.