Complex Kisses (Here & Now Book 1) Page 8

  “Well, that was fun!” Jamie exclaims, walking slowly back into the room. Her voice is bright but her face gives away the anxiety, anguish and pure exhaustion she’s truly feeling.

  Timing. What had I been thinking before, about the timing of this thing? That it’s all completely, horribly, brutally bad? Yeah, that’s still the case. Seeing her looking so wrung out, I can’t picture having a decent, meaningful conversation with her.

  “So, I guess you might have some questions about all of that,” Jamie sighs, allowing the fatigue into her voice.

  Questions? Fuck yes, I have questions. Can I kiss you again? Would you like that? Did you like it when I did it before?

  “There’s definitely a couple of things I wouldn’t mind knowing. But it’s getting late. We should probably head back to the hospital. Maybe we could make a date for tomorrow - grab a meal or something. You can think about sharing with me then. If you’re up for it.”

  “I feel like I owe you some kind of an explanation. You did kind of save my ass.” She looks guilty and grief stricken. “I’m sorry, Eric. I panicked.”

  “Nah. You were quick on your feet. You saved your own ass.”

  “Dylan and I have history. Although, I’m guessing that was pretty obvious. He’s always been a bit possessive of me. I just didn’t think I could handle his pressures right now. I don’t know. He seems like he might be a bit easier to manage these days.”

  If what I just witnessed was a less aggressive version of Dylan, I wonder how unbearable he was before?

  “The way I see it, you were the hero today. But you should let your boyfriend take you out for a decent meal, tomorrow.” I smile playfully.

  She looks stunned for a minute, until the humor in my expression registers and she relaxes with a smile of her own.

  Laughing, she replies, “Okay boyfriend of mine, where, oh where will you take me to dine?”

  Joking or not, hearing Jamie call me her boyfriend again feels good. It’s nice to see her lighthearted side return.

  “I don’t know, beautiful girl. You pick the place. I’ll be happy as long as you’re there.”

  “That actually sounds really good. But fair warning – I can be really impulsive when I’m hungry. I will probably just pick the first sign of food that I see. So, be prepared! You’re buying. Fast food, or five star – it’s all on you, baby!” Smiling brightly at me, she turns and heads for the door.

  Did I really just ask her out on a date? I think I did. Also, I think I may have just made a plan beyond today. What the fuck’s gotten into me? And why does it feel so good?

  “Jamie!” She pauses, allowing me to catch up to her. Finding her hand, I link our fingers together securely. “It’s really nice to see that smile again, beautiful.”

  This feels like the longest day in existence. Time is barely crawling forward. It might even be moving backward. I keep telling myself that I’m fine, that things are good, that the day’s just painfully slow because I’m bored of this hospital and watching my father sleep.

  But those are the lies I’m telling myself to cover the hard truth.

  Things aren’t fine. I’m nowhere near good. The opposite, in fact. Time is creeping because I can’t stop worrying. My father hasn’t spoken a word to me today. He’s simply ignored me. The amount of time that he actually spent lucid has been so minimal, I’m starting to wonder if his open eyes are really any indicator of him being awake. It’s the medication, I’m sure. Regardless, I’m once again questioning my reasons for being here, for not having my son here with me.

  Even more troublesome than my concerns over my father and son, is the stress I’m feeling about Eric. Thoughts of him have me going crazy.

  Despite barely knowing him, I’m obsessed. I still can’t believe I kissed him. The sensation of that kiss imprinted on my lips, my whole body still high from the brief contact.

  But I’m fretting over the conversation I avoided yesterday. Somehow, I got out of explaining all the messed up crap with Dylan. My screwed up history is still mostly buried. I’d like to keep it hidden. I hate the thought of having to explain it all to Eric, but without that talk, I may never get a repeat of our kiss.

  Although kissing him was likely a very bad mistake - a mistake I shouldn’t make twice - I can’t stop fantasizing about it. Obsessed, I tell you. Obsessed.

  That kiss has dominated my thoughts, pushing aside everything else.

  Everything.

  The guilt is blinding.

  But the pleasure I felt with that kiss. Oh, the pleasure. It was like no other kiss. And I can’t help but daydream of all the other things that a kiss like that could lead to.

  With my mind lingering on the obscene, I’m caught off guard when nurse Judy strolls into the room. A giant smile is plastered on her face. I feel like I’ve been caught in something shameful.

  “Jamie dear, it’s almost dinner time - and there’s a remarkably handsome young man in the hallway who says he’s here to take you out to eat.”

  “What?”

  “I wouldn’t keep him waiting if I were you. He’s a fine looking man. If you don’t hurry, another woman’s likely to try and steal him. A woman like me maybe.” She laughs heartily at her own joke.

  Not waiting to see if Judy’s liveliness wakes my father, I slip out to the hall.

  Eric leans casually against the wall, his strong arms crossed over his chest.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask abruptly, hoping to hide the absolute glee I feel at seeing him.

  “It’s been less than twenty-four hours and you’ve forgotten already?” He asks lightly, ignoring my clipped tone. “I promised to feed you. I thought you might be hungry. We made a date. Remember?”

  No, he’s not ignoring my rudeness. I think he sees right through it. He seems to have the uncanny ability of reading my intentions. He probably knows I’m hesitant because of yesterday. I wouldn’t doubt he knows about the way I’ve been obsessing over him too. And, I would bet the million dollars I don’t have, he knows my nipples are hard just from the sight of him. Shit. I’m such an open book for this man - it’s ridiculous.

  “I could eat,” I concede as he grabs my hand, leading me down the hall.

  But my mind’s not on the food.

  * * *

  “This is seriously the best hamburger I’ve ever tasted,” I talk around a mouthful of half chewed meat and bun.

  Yes, it’s a burger place. But it’s a really nice burger place. A mom and pop, not some over-run fast food dive. The food is superb. Although, once I started eating I discovered I was actually famished - so I may be exaggerating about its top ranking, just a little.

  Even better than the food, is the company.

  Eric’s eyes sparkle as he sips on his milkshake, watching me eat. Something about the way he puts his mouth to the straw, how he licks his lips after each swallow, has my blood pressure rising. The man has a serious way of making everything look sexy. Even eating.

  He finished his meal well before I even got halfway through mine. I guess he was hungry too.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He smiles playfully, the glint in his eye making me feel like, once again, he can read every dirty thought on my mind.

  We still haven’t spoken about yesterday. Eric doesn’t make it feel like it’s an urgent thing to discuss - but I’m thinking about it. I’m wondering exactly how much Eric heard of the conversation between Dylan and me, and how much I’m going to need to explain.

  Giving him the full truth seems like the right thing to do.

  If this was a normal situation, if Eric and I had met any other way, I’d have told him everything by now. Unfortunately, my reasons for hiding the truth haven’t been totally for Eric’s benefit. I’ve got to admit - my motives have been much less altruistic. It’s true that I’ve been concerned about burdening Eric with all of my bullshit. He certainly doesn’t need my melodrama in his life when he has his own worries. But to be fully honest with myself, I have to admit that my r
eluctance to share with him has been mostly selfish. Quite simply, I adore the way he looks at me. I’m enamored with the way he gives me the confidence to be strong, while allowing me the freedom to be weak. He’s put me on a bit of a pedestal, and I really kind of like it up here. Especially when it’s Eric, looking up at me.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  The food sits heavy in my stomach with the dread of what questions I might have to answer, but I slowly nod my head.

  “Did you check out of the hotel? I wondered if you were really going to stay at your dad’s place?”

  The question isn’t what I expected. “I haven’t checked out, yet. But I think I’m going to.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. It seemed like you had a lot of good memories of that house. Maybe being there will help you feel better about things.”

  “Maybe. It’s an old demon to face in some ways. But like a bit of a lost friend in others. Plus, I’d love to save the money.”

  “Well, I can take you back to the hotel and help get your stuff moved if you want.”

  Still my knight in shining armor.

  Maybe that pedestal is getting a little too high for me after all. Leading Eric to believe that I’m some helpless, distraught girl in need of saving is really the wrong decision. I’m more than that. So much more. Most of it not very good.

  He deserves my respect. He deserves the truth.

  But not here. I need a place where I can speak freely, where Eric can relax if he wants, where I can run away if I need to.

  “I’d like you to take me somewhere else. If that’s alright.”

  “Yeah, of course. Where to?”

  “Let’s go for a walk.”

  * * *

  Eric seems a bit surprised when, instead of dragging him to one of the many waterfront walkways or public beaches, I ask him to drive us back toward the hospital. Granted, it’s a confusing request.

  Most locals choose the lake as their hangout, which makes sense - it’s a beautiful place. But I always found the beaches and walkways too crowded. It’s a place to go and be on display, even in early May when the temperature’s still far below bathing suit weather. There’s always families, couples, runners, photographers, dog walkers, skateboarders - an endless list of different types of people, and always a lot of them. The waterfront comes alive at the slightest hint of spring in the air.

  That’s why I choose a local tourist attraction as our destination. It’s too early in the year for tourists and only the hard-core outdoor lovers would be bothered coming to this place this time of year, especially in the middle of the week.

  Duchesnay Falls. It’s one of the prettiest places around. The small waterfall is only part of the attraction. Around the river is a system of interwoven hiking trails. The whole thing’s on a natural rise in the Canadian Shield, with a lookout perched at one of the peaks. The view from that lookout point is spectacular.

  You want the lake? For practically as far as the eye can see - it’s water and wilderness.

  As a child I made the trip with my family here a few times a year. On our walk through the woods, I’d pretend I was a princess on the hunt for evil trolls or mystical fairies. The lookout was my castle tower. I pretended to have special powers that allowed me to talk to the trees and every animal was my friend.

  As a teenager, hanging out with friends, we’d sneak off to the woods most weekends. We’d get drunk or high or both and taunt each other to see who was brave enough to stand on the ledge of the lookout, or compete to see who could move the most trail signs. I was still the princess, but my friends were my subjects and instead of talking with nature, we corrupted it.

  Part of me has been longing to visit here again. I have an affinity for this little patch of forest, for the magic it once held. I’ve chosen it for its solitude and its beauty. It’s a place to connect to my past. It’s also a place within walking distance to the hospital – just in case Eric decides he’s done with me, after hearing what I have to tell him. Hopefully some of the old magic’s still around.

  We walk side by side on the trail in silence, only speaking to give each other warnings to look out for tree roots, or to decide which direction to go.

  “Wow, Jamie. When you said you wanted to go for a walk, I was thinking around the block or something. This is awesome,” Eric says, relieving us of the quiet and reducing my burden to be the one to start our conversation.

  “Haven’t you ever been here before?”

  “No. Never.”

  “You must not have grown up here then.”

  “Definitely not. I grew up in Oakville, which is now basically a suburb of Toronto. My brother and sister both still live there. My parents and Caleb moved here about five years ago, when my dad decided he was done working and retired early. They bought their lakeside dream home and never looked back.”

  I understand why Eric’s parents would choose this over big-city life. Truthfully, the city can wear on a person.

  “I live in Toronto now, being back here is actually really nice. I missed all of this green,” I say with sincerity.

  Eric bursts out laughing, “This world is just so full of irony.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I’ve lived in Toronto my entire adult life - my last place was on the waterfront. I just moved up here about five months ago. You and I have been neighbors this whole time.”

  “Wow, and in a city with over two and a half million people, I wonder how we missed each other?” I ask, dryly. My tone may be sarcastic but I do find it ironic that we were both drawn here by family, that we seem to have found each other in a moment when we needed someone else to lean on.

  Eric just shakes his head, smiling in amusement.

  “Anyway … if you think this place has been cool so far, just wait ‘til you see this next part …”

  As I finish my sentence we breach the final rise to the lookout platform. The early evening sun seems to meet us there, coming out from behind the clouds just as we step up onto the deck. The view is more awe-inspiring than I remembered. For a moment, I’m transported back to the days of my childhood, back to my teen years, back when I pretended to be a princess.

  Princess.

  It’s like a haunting from my past. Dylan’s stupid nickname for me. Each time I’d heard him say it yesterday, it sickened me. Princess is a reminder of who I used to be, of what I left behind. It’s not that I don’t suit the name anymore, the name no longer suits me. It never did. I never really was the princess I’d pretended to be. Never will be. Never want to be. The princess always needs rescuing. I’ve already saved my goddamn self.

  Eric’s firm but soothing hand finds my shoulder. “Hey, where’d you go?”

  Realizing that I’ve been lost in my own head and that he’s been speaking to me, I raise my eyes to his to let him know that I’m back with him. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

  “About?”

  Dragging in a deep, fortifying breath, I begin, “About that explanation that I owe you.”

  It’s time.

  Staring into Eric’s intense green eyes, I’m hit with a sense of calm, when I should likely be freaking out. I barely know this man, yet I’m about to unleash my history, my secrets, my life’s torment. How is it that I feel so at ease? I’m about to share things with him that I rarely, if ever share with anyone.

  Eric. The only answer is him. His strength, his fortitude – he’s kept me grounded from the moment I met him.

  There’s no doubt in my mind, had I been forced to deal with Dylan on my own, the outcome would have been drastically different. I would not have had a normal conversation. I would have likely been escaping back to Toronto at this very moment, after either yelling or crying or both. And most likely sex. Yeah, there’s no doubt I would have caved to Dylan and his usual advances. We would have ended up repeating our normal routine - him eight inches deep, me flat on my back.

  Like a total whore.

  I realize it’s the truth, I just didn’t see it
until now.

  I’ve always played it off in my mind as me and Dylan having a complicated history. We have a child together, he knows me, he’s safe - why wouldn’t I have sex with him? Except even to my own ears, that sounds like the most pathetic excuse plausible.

  The truth is, being a single mother is not an active sex life in the making.

  I like sex.

  And Dylan is easy.

  Except, I feel revolted with myself for ever thinking this way. Dylan may be an easy, safe lay, but I’ve been ignorant to his feelings. I haven’t faced the truth that he still cares for me and believes that we could have a future.

  Have I led him on?

  Probably.

  My rational mind’s still warning me - telling Eric these things may very well end our relationship. Not that we have a relationship. I think what we have is possibility. Regardless of my brain’s cautioning, I know in my heart, in my soul, telling him is the right decision. Who else has ever stood up for me the way Eric has? Absolutely no one. Therefore, on fake boyfriend merits alone, he’s deserving of the truth.

  “I can see the wheels turning in your head,” he murmurs. His hand’s still on my shoulder. The thumb of that hand, brushing lightly, tantalizingly over my collar bone. “Listen, I kind of know a bit already. I was a nosy asshole and listened in on your talk with Dylan. I’m sorry.”

  “No, that’s okay. I hoped maybe you had. It gives me less to explain.”

  “Jamie, I won’t lie, I’m curious to know more. But, I don’t want you to feel obligated to tell me things.”

  I can’t handle him being so decent with me. Not when I’ve been giving half-truths and lies since the moment we met.

  “Eric, I’m not who you think I am. What you overheard, that’s barely the tip of the iceberg. You’ve been too good to me. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why. But I don’t deserve all of your kindness or any of your sympathy. You’re the one dealing with something real. My worries are all self-made.”

  He looks like I’ve caught him by surprise. The poor guy really didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he decided to help me.