If Not For You (23 page)

The only thing keeping our hot steamy bodies apart were the towels wrapped around our nakedness. I placed my hands on his chest and ran my fingers slowly down towards the towel at his hips. With our mouths locked together, Gage’s tongue probed at my lips until I opened to him and our tongues laced together.

I tucked my fingertips into the edge of his towel and tugged. Gage’s hand closed over mine and brought it back up to his chest. On my second attempt Gage did the same holding my hand in place. I could feel the cold touch of his nipple ring against my palm. Breaking loose of his grip, our eyes connected.

What I saw peeled the smile from my face. A wintry distant stare, the hot sexy blue from moments ago replaced with a gray stagnancy.

“Gage, what’s wrong?”

He closed his eyes and pulled back, creating a distance that hadn’t been there all day. There was no doubt he was fighting with himself, fighting me, fighting us, fighting what could be a beautiful moment.

“Tandy…we can’t let things go that far,” he dropped his gaze to the floor, adjusting himself through his towel.

“But we,” I whispered, brushing the tips of my fingers across his jaw, “don’t you want me?”

“Tandy, this isn’t going to happen.” He declared with forcefulness I had never heard him use before.

No?

Dumbfounded, I allowed him to take my hand, briskly walking me out of the sauna and back to the massage room where we left our clothing. Forcing me inside closing the door behind us, I was too hurt and stunned to utter a word and stood silently while he dressed. He left the room, choosing to wait outside for me. Leaning against the wall, I shut my eyes tight and held my hand over my mouth while I fought back tears.

What the fuck was happening? I stood staring at the back of the door after slipping on my flip flops. This was such a complicated mess. Kisses, touches, his fingers weaved in mine. It all screamed
he wants you
and then Gage jammed the breaks on. Again!

It was like flying free with your wings spread wide, catching the wind and gliding high. Then slamming head on into a jagged mountain side, your neck breaking and just lying there waiting for death to take you. I was being melodramatic, I knew it was the result of my over active imagination.

Clearly we were on two different plains. The performance had started and as I walked to stage left, he veered to stage right and the curtain fell. The performance was over. What the fuck.

All the while I was playing over the scene in the sauna, his lips on mine, our sweaty skin and the obvious need for each other, what the fuck was going on? Why was he sending me mixed signals? Hot and cold! My frustration level was at the top of the scale ready to explode, the mercury at the boiling point glowing red hot like lava and I couldn’t manage a word, not a word.

I didn’t think I repulsed him, he seemed to like what he saw and I was a willing participant. So what was his problem? Was it because of the virgin thing or was I just a fool? I was now mortified, embarrassed and humiliated. I wanted to crawl under the expensive marble tile and croak.

Maybe I should walk away, run, hide, but what good would it do? He’d only find me. Where the hell do you hide on a ship, as huge as it was, it wasn’t like mingling in to the crowds of New York City. Besides I was twenty two years old, not a child, a woman. I had to woman up and stop taking shit from this man, once and for all.

Gage stood in the hall as I finally exited with my head held high. But all I could do was glare. We said our thank you and goodbyes as we left the spa and headed out onto the windy deck outside.

“We need to talk.” he said.

“No shit,” I responded, yanking my hand away as he reached for it. No, no, no, this was so not going to go his way.

He didn’t try again to take my hand but walked close at my side, past lounging spectators. I was feeling rejected and hurt and I didn’t give a shit who knew it. The sinking feeling in my gut was nothing new, hell I had felt that time and time again. Rejection sadly wasn’t anything new either, but it stung like a bitch coming from Gage, the one man I truly ever wanted completely.

Confusion
was
new to me; this constant game of friend, not friend was new. Hot one minute, cold the next. Mixed signals and emotions, those were all new too. I was used to the high and sudden low with nothing in between from past relationships. But Gage was lifting me at a slow steady pace, to a happy go lucky cliff and then throwing me off and the sudden impact was bruising my heart beyond anything I had felt before.

“Let me buy you a drink?” he asked, and I returned his invitation with a scowl.

“I can buy my own,” I spit out, with a shot of venom and swatted his hand away again, when he attempted to place it at the small of my back to escort me. There was no way that he knew I was anything less than pissed with him. If the roles had been reversed, I would have my tail between my legs and my head held low with shame and regret. Cocky bastard I wanted to roar.

Sitting at a table tucked into a far corner of the Wheelhouse Bar, we ordered our drinks and waited in uneasy silence, until the waitress brought them over and placed them on paper napkins in front of us. I ordered a Long Island Ice Tea with the full intention of letting go, leaving my inhibitions at the door and telling Gage what I was feeling, it was time. Only my confidence needed a moment or two, or three.

About half way through my drink it was Gage who finally spoke.

“I’m sorry Tandy, I really am.” He seemed sincere but my eyes were so tainted with red, I was having trouble deciphering between his words and my ugly thoughts.

“You can’t tell me sorry for fuck sake, you don’t do sorry! Remember?” Yeah I was bitter, sweetness didn’t exist at this moment and my ego was battered in multiple shades of black and blue.

“But I am,” he insisted, trying to take my hand. I snatched away from his near touch. A touch I feared would melt the solid brick of ice formed around my shielded heart.

“What for, Gage? I don’t understanding…either you want me or you don’t, which one is it?” I blurted out, a little more brave with some major alcohol in me. “You’re just like all the rest of the fuckers. You play with my heart, string me along and once you got me tied up just the way you want, you cut the fucking rope.”

“Don’t talk like that, sweetheart. You’re better than that.”

“Fuck you! What do you know about me? You know Jack shit!” I slugged back my drink and waved for another unnoticed. “Maybe I came off like some whore, but I thought you wanted me.”

“I can’t have you. And you’re not a whore, stop talking like that.” he preached, watching the swirling ice cubes in his empty glass, not daring to make eye contact. He held his drink up to the passing waitress and motioned to both glasses; she acknowledged his request and nodded. The two drinks were replaced with fresh ones within minutes and I rushed half the glass past my lips, feeling a fair bit braver now, but needing the liquid courage to help me along.

I can’t have you
, what did he mean? What could that possibly mean? It wasn’t like he was suffering from some kind of erectile dysfunction. Each morning I had proof it worked extremely well, enjoyably pressed against me, and after witnessing his shower scenes, there was no disputing that he was a very healthy male. It wasn’t like I was pushing him away, I was willing, more than willing.

“I think that should be up to me whether you can or can’t have me.” I told him, I was the one to say yes or no. I was the one dealing with the big V. He hadn’t got any in so long you would have thought he’d be jumping me in a heartbeat.

“You don’t understand,” he was wrestling with those fucking demons again, I could clearly see it.

“No I don’t!” My volume increased drawing his eyes to mine. “You talk dirty, you touch and tease me, you have no qualms about making out with me, you get me so hot and then you go cold. What the hell Gage?”

“Oh, sweetheart, I want you, you don’t know how badly I want you…I just
can’t
have you,” he stated it like I should just know what he was trying to say. Like I should understand his stupid riddle that he kept repeating incessantly.

“I don’t think we’re reading from the same page. You can’t or you won’t?” I asked, through clenched teeth, I was seething with pained anger.

“I can’t Tandy, I just can’t.” He reached across the table to take my hand, but I jerked back and glared my don’t-fucking-touch-me glare.

My anger had taken over, like a thick fog that I just couldn’t see through. I was confused and hurt, hurt beyond words. My heart was aching deep in my chest like a vice was wrapped around my ribs, because of his confessing utterances and I needed to get the fuck out of there. But not before I made myself clear, painfully clear.

“The saddest part of
you can’t
, is that I wanted you Gage…I wanted you to be my first…I needed you to be my first. I don’t know if you’re just being a douchebag or there’s something real holding you back, but I wanted you in the worst possible way…your words cut me like a knife and I’m bleeding here, you need to stop fucking with me…stop it now!” I proclaimed, slugging back the remains of my glass, slamming it on the table for full affect and stormed out of the bar.

Ducking around the corner as I stormed from the bar, I stood still with my back to the wall with tears streaming down my face as Gage ran by. I dodged in the opposite direction and strayed in the cool air. I stayed hidden for the rest of the day, avoiding the frequented areas of the ship, shrouded to the shadows.

I slept on a deck lounge in the dark after crying myself to sleep, and snuck to my room in the early morning hours, like a coward after getting a new key card. I explained to the receptionist that I locked the other in my room by accident. She never uttered a word but I could tell she knew I had been crying and gracefully let me alone.

Imagine how I felt, hiding in the shadows from a man I wanted to give my virginity to. How pathetic was I? If this was what sex did to people, maybe it would be better to die a spinster and keep my dreaded big V to myself, and my friendship.

Day 31

After two days and nights alone in my room, I woke to another lonely morning. A recurrent knock at the door and Gage’s pleading voice on the other side begging me to let him in, led me to bury myself in my book with my ear buds in and the music playing loudly.

Sitting on my balcony, the only thing I noticed was the sound of my neighbor’s door opening and closing, a lot, but I never saw sight of him. I didn’t actually care either.

Men sucked and I wanted nothing to do with any of them.

This morning when my coffee arrived, I peeked through the peep hole in the door and let Philippe in. Along with my coffee Philippe handed me a beautiful bouquet of mixed flowers.

“Who are these from?” I asked, knowing damned well where they came from, feeling insulted that Philippe would help my new arch enemy try to break through my newly built brick wall. I glowered and saw the man back slightly away as he held out an envelope, watching as I tossed the bouquet into the waste basket.

“They came with a card, Miss Tandy.” Philippe handed me the card and left before I had a chance to tip him. I ripped open the tiny envelope and read the simple neat hand writing on the note card.

I Miss You! I Need You! I Want You!

Forgive Me!

Gage

I read the note card over and over, trying to absorb the true significance of the words. Did this mean he missed our friendship, desired me as a possible lover or was it perhaps both or none of the above? All I knew at this moment in time was that I missed him. I even missed his many sexual overtones and the way he pranced around me in his boxer briefs comfortably unabashed, making me all hot and sweaty. I missed the goofy grin on his face when he beat me at cards and the way he held his tongue when he typed on the keys of his laptop, but I wasn’t sure that I was ready, I wasn’t sure if giving in to my desperate yearning to be close to Gage was enough to topple the carefully placed bricks which surrounded my heart.

I never really knew loneliness before, hell I lived in a huge old mansion that was empty most of the time and it never bothered me. But for some inexplicable reason I missed sharing my bed with another body. The truth was I missed him and his body in my bed. It had nothing to do with sex. I wasn’t sleeping and God knows I need my beauty sleep or I’m a beast in every way imaginable. I missed my friend, dare I say he was becoming my best friend?

While I drank my coffee and soaked up a little sun, I took the card from my pocket and after reading it for the umpteenth time, tucked it back into my pocket and stared out at the ocean waves. The water was rough and dark today, to match the way I was feeling. Today was not a good day. I was off my mark feeling nauseous and dizzy, a good day to be alone actually.

The dizziness was increasing and I felt an unmistakable headache approaching. I folded my arms on the table and rested my head on them, though they were numb and I couldn’t feel them any longer. I wanted to go inside and crawl beneath the covers of my warm bed, but was all at once far too weak and gave in, allowing the waves and the pain of both my head and heart to close my eyes.

***

“Sorry sir, no message.” Philippe said. Wearily I stood in the doorway trying to smile.

“Thanks anyway Philippe.” I pulled money from my pocket and Philippe raised his palm refusing to take it. He gave me a pitiful head tip and smile as he backed through the door and closed it.

Running my hands over my face and through my hair in frustration, I walked over to the sliding door and slid it open. Not daring to walk out, I knew she would be on her balcony, it was her favorite thing to do and I smiled when I thought about the blueberry fight and the countless times spent wrapped around her on the lounge. Now I stood alone, listening for any sign of movement or any sound, anything to be sure she was okay.