Meeting Mr. Wright (12 page)

“I’m not torn up over it,” I tell him, looking him right in the eyes. And that’s the truth. I mean, it’s part of the truth, but things aren’t that simple.

“Callie-”

“I’m not. See, the thing is that I thought this would be us, you know? Me and Ethan getting married. Having a wedding, spending the rest of our lives together. I thought that’s where we were headed. I let myself believe I had forever with him, and then I came home and found him in bed with another woman. In
our
bed. And I just…I couldn’t believe it.”

“Cheating isn’t usually about the sex,” he says, like that matters at all.

“That doesn’t make it any better, Nate. That makes it worse.”

He nods, looking down, and I’m not sure if he doesn’t say anything because he wants me to keep going or because he just doesn’t know what else to say. There’s a part of me that’s ready to say this, to admit it out loud, and I want to admit it to him.

“Six months later, it’s not the sex that bothers me. Well, not really. It’s that I never thought he could do something like that to me. I didn’t think he was even capable of it. I was supposed to be the person who knew him better than anyone else, and I wonder how deep would I have gotten before I found out? Would we have gotten married? Would we have had children? How long would it have taken me to figure out that I didn’t know him at all? That’s what scares the hell out of me. So it’s not about him, you know? It’s about me. I don’t trust myself to know who it’s safe to give my heart to.”

Nate takes a deep breath, and his face is so full of understanding that I could cry. He reaches up and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, and his expression is so tender that I can’t help but press my cheek into the palm of his hand and close my eyes. He makes me feel safe, and I don’t know if it’s right, but I want to allow myself the comfort that he offers, even though that’s so dangerous. It would be so easy for me to let myself fall in love with him. So easy to let him in. So easy for him to break my heart.

Nate’s hand slides down the side of my neck, and he traces the strap of my swimsuit with his fingertip. I can feel the trail of heat his touch leaves all the way down in my toes. “You won’t ever know who it’s safe to give your heart to. Falling in love is a risk.”

I laugh bitterly. “I think it’s well documented that I’m not much of a risk taker.”

He smiles, putting his hand back on the edge of the pool. “Not every guy is like Ethan.”

I know he’s dying to tell me that
he
isn’t like Ethan, but he doesn’t do that. I don’t know why his silence makes me believe him more than his words ever could, but everything in my brain is just a big swirl of confusion right now.

“But some guys are, Nate. How will I know the difference?”

He waits for me to look into his eyes before he speaks. “You’ll feel it.”

He says the words with conviction, and I want to believe him. I do know that I feel
something
when I’m with him, and I’m not sure whether it’s something I can’t name or something I just don’t want to name. Whatever it is though, it’s driving me crazy; it’s making me want to run in ten directions at once.

Nate’s leg brushes against mine, and all of a sudden I can feel his chest pressing against me. I’m not sure if he moved closer or if I did, but that doesn’t really matter anyway. I move my leg so that my foot presses up against the wall behind me because I need some leverage, and as I’m moving my thigh brushes up against his erection. He inhales a sharp, quick breath at the contact, looking at me with intensity behind his eyes that sends a nervous rush through me. And the truth is that I’m so tired of trying to sort out these feelings. I want Nate to feel; I want to be taken out of the equation, just for a little while.

Before I can talk myself out of all the reasons why this is a very bad idea, I wrap my legs around the backs of Nate’s thighs in order to hold myself up. I slide my hand across his shoulder and wrap my arm around his neck, then slide my other hand down his chest, gently grazing his skin with my fingernails. The contact makes his eyelids flutter. He reaches up to touch my face, but when I look at him, he knows that I need him to let me drive this. He knows that I need him to just put his hand back on the side of the pool. So, he does.

I want to kiss him so badly, but if I do I know I’ll never stop. I’ll get so lost that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to find my way back again. I’m not sure that I’d want to, and that scares the hell out of me.

I run my fingertips along the waistband of Nate’s swim trunks, and his muscles contract beneath my touch. I like teasing him, making him wait. But I’m not doing this to be cruel, so it’s not long before I slip my hand below the fabric and glide my palm along the length of his erection. I clasp my hand around him and slide it down. Nate’s head rolls to the side, his perfect, stubbly jaw on offer for my kisses. I press my lips there, then gently nip at his chin, drawing a low kind of growl from him that spurs me on. I take another pass downward and he bucks his hips into my hand, needing more friction. His breath quickens as I move, and my eyes meet his. He tilts his head and moves forward just a bit, wanting to kiss me, but I look down because I can’t let myself do that right now. I focus my attention on what I’m doing, and when my thumb skims over the tip of Nate’s dick, his eyes squeeze shut. The water makes everything more sensitive for me, so I can imagine how much better this feels for him.

“Callie,” he says, whispering my name. He presses his forehead against mine, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. His lips are right there, and I manage to have the willpower to not taste him. I manage to go against every instinct that’s coursing through my body, and somehow this—touching him like this and not kissing him—is the sexiest thing I’ve ever done.

Still stroking him, I slide my other hand up the back of his neck and lightly scratch my nails against along his scalp. I remember that he liked it the first night we were together in Dallas, and he likes it now. I can tell by the way his breathing picks up and his muscles loosen. It’s like he can’t hold his head up anymore and he brings it to rest on my shoulder as I push him higher and higher.

“Nate, are you in here?”

Shit—it’s Jessa.

His name echoes throughout the room, and his head snaps back in an instant. I pull my hand away from him and duck under his arm. Jessa walks over right as I’m pulling myself up onto the pool deck, and I’m thankful she had the foresight to call out his name before she walked in here.

“Hey Callie,” she says, offering me a smile.

I smile back at her as I pick up a towel and wrap it around myself. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest that I can practically see it thrumming beneath my skin. “Hey,” I reply, pushing back the growing wave of disappointment that Nate and I were interrupted.

“What’s up?” Nate asks. His voice is kind of gravely; it’s huskier than usual. I wonder if Jessa notices the difference.

“Mom was looking for you, she wanted you to help her move some tables. I’ll just tell her you’re busy.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I was just going to head back to my room. I’m feeling a little tired.”

Nate sighs. “I’ll be right there.”

Jessa walks out, and I tug the towel tighter around me as I look over at Nate. His arms are crossed on the side of the pool, his forehead pressed against his arm, looking down. Maybe I should say something, but I don’t. I just turn and walk away.

W
HILE
N
ATE
and I were having dinner, Amy moved my things into the last spare bedroom that was available in the main house. It just so happens to be right at the beginning of the hallway that leads to Nate’s room. I’d only spent a few minutes in here earlier when I changed into my swimsuit, and honestly, I don’t really want to be in here right now. I want to be back at the pool with Nate. I regret leaving the way that I did; I regretted it the second that I walked away.

I reek of chlorine, and every time I smell it I remember the way Nate looked at me when I was touching him. Those kinds of memories make it impossible for me to think straight, so I walk into the bathroom and turn on the faucet. Once the water is hot enough, I strip off my suit and step into the shower.

Under the warm, relaxing water, my mind drifts back to Nate, to what we just did. Or what
I
just did, I guess. I don’t know why I feel so drawn to him; it’s completely ridiculous. I’ve known him less than a week. The thing is, I love talking to him and being around him. It’s stupid for me to try to ignore that, isn’t it? But when I’m around him, I just want to kiss him. I want to talk to him for hours. I want to wake up with him, I want to share my bed with him. I remember feeling the same way with Ethan, even though those things didn’t come nearly as quickly.

Nate was right, not everyone is like Ethan. Maybe Nate wouldn’t cheat on me, but maybe he’d leave like my dad did. Or maybe things just wouldn’t work out between us for whatever reason. That would hurt just as much.

This is the reason that women like me aren’t cut out for one-night stands. I can’t separate the feelings from the sex, even with a stranger. And I tell myself that this isn’t a
stranger
, this is Nate. I wouldn’t be feeling this way if he hadn’t shown up at this wedding though, would I? Maybe I could’ve just gone on with my life and let the sex be sex, even though I did have difficulty leaving him the morning after. Ugh, this is maddening.

I just want to turn off my brain and have fun. Why is that so difficult for me? He flat-out told me that I could use him for his body, and I know he wasn’t kidding, so it’s not like he’s averse to the idea. What’s so wrong with me enjoying his company while he’s here? Even if I do have feelings, what can even become of them? On Sunday we’ll leave. He’ll go back to Colorado and I’ll go back to Texas. A long-distance thing wouldn’t ever work between us. And there can’t be heartbreak waiting for me on the other side of something I knew wouldn’t work out anyway, right?

I’m young, and I should be out in the world having fun. I know that when I leave here I’ll regret keeping him at arm’s length more than I’ll ever regret him being closer, especially since shutting him out means I’m missing out on a good time with a great guy, however short that good time may be. I can’t keep having this argument with myself; it’s a waste of time and energy.

When the water starts to cool, I turn off the shower, towel dry my hair, and put on my pajamas. I feel like I need to make a peace offering to Nate for running out on him earlier, and I have the perfect idea. I sit down on my bed and fire up my laptop, then pull up Photoshop, more inspired than I’ve been in years. It doesn’t take me long to work up a few draft logos based on what he told me about his start-up company last night. When I’m satisfied with the few samples that I have, I work up the courage to walk down the hall to his room.

I
STAND
in the middle of the hallway between Nate’s room and mine, staring at the rectangle of light that streams across the shiny wooden floor. Nate’s door is open, like he hoped that I was going to walk in. Maybe he knew that I would want to, I’m not sure. He seems to understand some things about me that I haven’t quite gotten a handle on myself, and it’s both disconcerting and wonderful at the same time. It’s nice to have someone around who instinctively knows what you need.

Quietly drumming my fingertips along the edge of my laptop, which is tucked under my arm, I take the few steps forward until I can peer inside his room. He’s sitting on the floor, his back resting against the bed. His right leg is hiked up, the other one stretched out in front of him. His his elbow is resting on his knee, and he’s holding a book. He’s intent on what he’s reading. I can’t make out the title of the book, but it’s thick and dog-eared, like he’s read it a hundred times. Some passage is making him smile, and the temptation to just stand there and watch him is overwhelming. In order to keep my creepy level as low as possible, I knock on the doorframe so that he knows I’m standing here.

Nate’s head snaps up, and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world that he wants to see. His eyes dart down to the laptop that’s cradled under my arm, but then he smiles at me and all of a sudden I can’t remember why I was nervous to come to see him.

“Hey,” he says, closing the book and laying it on the floor beside him.

“Hey. Mind if I come in?”

“Never.” He moves to his right a little, even though there’s plenty of room on the floor for me already. He pats the spot next to him and I walk over and lay my laptop on the bed, then fold my legs under me and sit down.