Surfacing the Rim (Piercing The Fold) (6 page)

“Dance with me?”

I look away from him and stare down at my plate. “Um, I’m not very good at—”

Nate reaches across the table and puts his hand on top of mine. Instantly, I feel the warm, familiar energy course from him through me. His touch pulls my eyes back to him like a magnet.

Nate’s eyes are pleading. A soft smile dances across his lips.

Ugh, those lips.

“Jes, it’s a date. Dance with me.”

His hand intertwines with mine. I pull the napkin from my lap, and we both stand. He leads me to the middle of the room. I don’t have to look toward the kitchen to know that Mr. and Mrs. Getty have just left the open doorway to give us privacy. I hear the music change to something soft, romantic, and seductive—right on cue, thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Getty.

Nate pulls me to him gently, placing one hand to hold mine while wrapping the other around my waist.

I look up at him, smile, and move my eyes toward the kitchen doorway. “This is very sweet of them.”

Nate softly says, “It’s perfect.”

I close my eyes and lean my head on his shoulder. Nate lets go of my hand, encircling both arms around my waist, and pulls me closer. My heart jumps from his embrace, and my legs weaken a little.

He whispers into my hair. “You alright?”

I breathe slowly and close my eyes. “Yes. I’m…yes.”

Nate lightly chuckles. “You’re yes?”

I regain my composure and inch back to look at him, smiling sarcastically. “I’m fine.”

Not wanting to let this moment slip away, I close my eyes and lean my head on his shoulder again. I relax immediately in his arms, like I’m melting into him. His hands move along my spine, and his arms tighten around me, pulling me as close to him as possible.

He whispers in my ear, “You are so beautiful, Jesca.”

Warmth builds within me. I whisper back, “Thank you.”

As the song comes to an end, I lift my head from his shoulder, and he moves his head back to look at me. I run my hand up his back to the nape of his neck. Nate lets go of my waist, and I feel his hands on my jaw and cheeks. His lips softly touch mine, and instantly, the kiss deepens, becoming desperate between us.

I sense someone enter the room, and I quickly stop the kiss. Leaning my hands and forehead against his chest, I feel his heart pounding. Nate rests his head on top of mine, trying to steady himself as well.

Mr. Getty clears his throat. “Are you two ready for dessert?”

I know I’m breathing rapidly, and I can feel Nate release a long, slow breath before he answers.

“Thank you, Mr. Getty, but I think we’ll pass. Ms. Olivia made us dessert to take home today.”

Mr. Getty sighs. “Very well. Ms. Olivia is an amazing baker.”

Just as I try to pull away from Nate, he grabs hold of my hands on his chest, keeping me from budging any farther. I turn my focus to Mr. Getty, and then I notice Mrs. Getty leaning against the doorway. I clear my throat, feeling a little exposed from our embrace.

Mrs. Getty eyes both of us, and then she glances toward our half-eaten dinner. “Now, you two finish your meal. We need you strong and healthy out there.”

Immediately, Mrs. Getty realizes she has brought up a topic that we’ve been trying to avoid all night. She walks quickly into the room and stands next to Mr. Getty. Putting her hand to her mouth, she nervously mumbles, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up the—”

Mr. Getty softly interrupts, “It’s okay, sweetheart. They know you meant well. Here, let’s give them some privacy to enjoy the rest of their dinner.”

Mr. Getty puts his arm around Mrs. Getty, pulling her to him. She leans into him, putting her head on his shoulder. They both close their eyes for a moment. The looks on their faces are peaceful and content. They’re completely connected as if they are linked together.

I’ve imagined that Nate and I share similar looks on our faces when we are linked.

Mr. and Mrs. Getty walk back toward the doorway. I watch the way he’s holding her around her waist while she has her arm on his back. The attraction they have for each other is constant, solid, and more than just physical.

I look down at my hand, linked together with Nate’s. I wonder if their link started with a physical attraction, like ours, and then turned into a bond with emotions and love. We have many years to go from the physical link to an emotional bond.

Pulling my hand away from Nate, I walk back to the table. We finish our food in silence. After we are sated, we sit back in our chairs, taking in the atmosphere, the music, and the water falling into the pond.

Nate looks up beyond the incandescent lights that are strung from tree to tree to the crystal-clear glass ceiling. “God, the sky is truly beautiful tonight.”

I follow his gaze. “Yes, it is.”

The stars are so bright against tonight’s onyx backdrop. Worry takes over when I think of how our night sky might change in a matter of weeks due to the coming intersection. Will we have stars? Will we even have nighttime for that matter? Or will it be daytime eternally?

I wipe my mouth with my napkin, and then I toss it on the table. I try to bring out my playful attitude. “Alright, here’s another normal date question.”

Nate rolls his eyes and chuckles, amused by my playfulness. “Okay, go for it.”

I sigh. “How many girls have you kissed?”

Nate laughs. “What?”

He seems to be waiting for me to retract the question, but I don’t. I can tell by the flush of his cheeks that this one has gotten under his skin, but I’m not about to let it go.

Nate seems to realize that I’m not going to relent. He replies, “I don’t know. Maybe ten or a dozen.”

I’m not surprised by his answer, but I act like I am, and I make a huge deal out of it. “Gosh, Nate! What a player!”

Nate attempts to retaliate. “Alright, alright. Your turn, hot stuff. How many have you kissed?”

I pretend that I’m counting off names in my head, using my fingers as tallies. I hear Nate grumble under his breath at my game, and it makes me laugh.

Then, he comes into my mind—Xander. I’m grateful now that Nate and I agreed to block one another from the other’s thoughts because I know Nate would not appreciate my line of thinking.

I remember Xander pulling me into him without hesitation, and then he kissed me. Nate and I have kissed quite a bit since then, but Xander’s kiss was different from Nate’s. It wasn’t just the strong energy coursing through my body and drawing me to him like it was with Nate. When Xander’s lips collided with mine the night he left Miami, it was like a fire of emotions ignited within me.

Putting my elbows on the table, I fold my hands in front of my lips and graze them with my touch, trying to remove the memory of that kiss. It’s impossible. I can’t make my lips or myself forget. I feel my cheeks getting red as my pulse quickens.

Nate observes my obvious reaction to his question, and he chuckles a little. “Jes, are you blushing? How many? Ten?”

I force a smile and look down at my plate. Just make up a number, Jes. You don’t need to give him names.

Nate’s eyes widen as large as saucers, and he bellows, “Twenty? Jes! And, you called me a player?”

I shake my head, partly because I don’t want to say anything to Nate and partly because I hate the feeling I get when I keep things from him. I move my hand from my lips and force another smile. “Only four.”

Nate’s expression softens, and his voice takes a teasing tone. “Jes, I know you too well. You’re holding out.”

I shake my head again, laughing nervously. “No, really, there have only been four.”

Nate laughs playfully and keeps pushing. “Alright. Only four, huh? Since there are only four and I know for a fact that one of them is in this room, who are the other three?”

His probing makes my chest feel tight. This time, I make sure he can hear my thoughts, Stop pushing, Nate.

I sit back in my seat and look away from Nate, focusing on the pond.

Nate breaks the silence between us. “Hey, Jes. I was just…” Nate pauses, trying to find the right words. “I was just fooling around.”

Hearing the doubt in his voice, I look back at him. “No, you weren’t, Nate.”

Taking his napkin from his lap, Nate tosses it on the table. His voice is low and angry. “Alright, fine. I wasn’t fooling around.”

Why in the hell is he so pissed? It’s not like I belong to him, and he needs to know every single detail about me. He doesn’t possess me.

My frustration gets the better of me, and I blurt out, “Xander kissed me.”

Nate’s face turns white, like the life is draining from him. He quickly looks down at his plate, and then he stares at me again. With rage brewing below the surface of his eyes, his voice is hard when he asks, “Did you kiss him back?”

I keep my eyes on him, trying to gauge his growing temper. I whisper, “Yes.”

A long silence falls between us.

Nate glares at me. His eyes are reddening. Accusingly, he hisses, “Did you like it?”

Nate means for those words to hurt, and they do. I feel my eyes welling up with tears of anger.

I choke out, “I’m not sure.”

Nate’s words are riddled with bitterness while his voice grows loud. “C’mon, Jesca! Either you did or you didn’t! It’s not a difficult question!”

Steaming with anger, I get up, walk around the table, and stand before Nate. “I wasn’t expecting him to kiss me!”

Nate pushes out his chair loudly and confronts me face to face. “But, you let him kiss you, and you kissed him back! Why?”

I cross my arms and try to control my voice. I can sense that Mr. and Mrs. Getty are listening. “Can we talk about this somewhere without an audience?”

Nate looks to the open doorway, resting his hands on his hips. He looks back at me with resentment in his eyes. His mouth barely moves when he says, “Fine.”

He turns away from me, walking quickly through the stone hallway and out the wrought iron door.

Unbelievable. He’s left me here to face Mr. and Mrs. Getty alone, forcing me to explain his disappearing act.

I tell Mr. and Mrs. Getty that Nate got a call from his parents, and we need to head back quickly. I mention that he had to leave abruptly to pull the car around. I thank them profusely for a beautiful evening.

It really was a beautiful, perfect evening—until ten minutes ago.

* * *

Nate did not pull the car around. I cross the street to the parking lot. Nate is leaning against the passenger’s door. His head is down, and his arms are crossed over his chest.

I feel my heart fall a little as I get closer to Nate. He glances up at me and notices my tear-filled eyes. He quickly looks away, ignoring me.

He opens the car door and moves to let me in. I stand in front of him so that he has to look at me. He takes in a deep breath and stares beyond me to avoid my eyes.

His jaw tenses, and he whispers roughly, “Get in the car, Jes.”

I can tell he’s close to losing it again, so I don’t push him. I get in the car, and he shuts the door behind me.

* * *

We don’t talk on the way home. I’m waiting for Nate to make the first move.

He’s the one that stormed out on our date. He’s the one that got possessive with me. I’m not about to bow to him and say I’m sorry for what happened with Xander because I don’t feel guilty.

Nate and I parted in the facility. He was the one who supposedly broke our link then so that we didn’t have to feel lost and incomplete in our new territories. Then, Nate came back to me, and I’m supposed to be his possession because of our link.

And, he wants to blame me for moving on. Xander and I did nothing wrong.

This tension between Nate and me is getting out of control. I shift my body toward the passenger’s window, moving away from Nate, and I close my eyes.

* * *

I must have dozed off on the way home. I feel cold air on my face, and a familiar warm hand dances along my arm, bringing me out of my slumber.

I open my eyes and see Nate leaning on the open passenger door with his arms crossed. I must have dreamt his touch.

I step out of the car. He looks at me briefly, and then he shifts his eyes away. I roll my eyes at his lingering attitude.

Nate moves past me and toward the door to unlock it, but stops when he sees a note. I can see it’s from Ezra. After he’s read it, Nate hands it to me and opens the door.

Nate and Jes,

Went to meet with an old friend before we leave. Will be home late. Get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.

I follow Nate into the house. He walks over to the kitchen table and lays the keys down. I watch him as I close the door behind me.

Then, he surprises me by stalking back toward me. His eyes are sad, but predatory, as he approaches me. His voice is raspy when he speaks. “What do you feel, Jes?”

I realize I’m not looking at just some guy. I am looking at Nate, the guy that has taken care of me for the past two months. He’s the guy that has made me laugh, pulling me out of my worries.