To be the first person he saw in the morning, and the last one he saw at night.
What a crazy notion. She must he high. Intoxicated on epic sex, and she’d need to clear her orgasm-clouded head.
“So Miss Julia. How’s this going to work out?”
She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “What do you mean?”
He pointed from her to him, speaking in a clear, firm voice. “You and me. I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing. I want to see you again.”
She fixed him with a quizzical look. Surely, he wasn’t the kind of man who wanted a long-distance relationship. But then, he said he’d been with Sabrina for a while, and she had no reason to believe he was a player, or a ladies man either. And while she wasn’t sure what she wanted from him, she did know one thing for certain – she wanted to see him again. He’d rocked her world in more ways than one. With pleasure, and with laughs, and with the tender ways he had. That was the problem – he was so good for her, and she simply had no real estate in her life for this kind of potential. One of them or both of them would wind up hurt.
But she had enough problems, so she made a split-second choice – to be abundantly honest in this instant about how she felt. “I would like that,” she said, without agenda, without teasing. “I live on the other side of the country though.”
“I am aware of that and I want to see you again and again. You’re not seeing anyone else, are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that.”
“And you like being with me presumably?”
“Obviously.”
“So let’s do this,” he said in the most matter-of-fact tone. As if a relationship spanning 3000 miles were truly that easy.
“How? How are we supposed to pull this off?” As much as she liked him, long-distance love affairs had a gigantic built in roadblock.
“There’s this thing called an airplane,” he said dryly. “It flies. You get on it. I get on it. We both get off on the other side.”
“Oh ha ha, funny guy.”
“Why thank you very much. I like to make sure all departments are fully functional including the humor one.”
“Well, it is. But I do work a ton, you know,” she said, her natural instinct to erect walls rearing its head.
“As do I.”
“So it might not be that often that we can see each other.”
“If you are not interested in this continuing, you should just say so rather than point out the obstacles,” he said, his dark eyes fixed on hers, his gaze serious and intense.
She opened her mouth to speak, but it was as if she’d been injected with an overdose of nerves. One she needed to ignore. “I am interested in this continuing,” she said, and it felt like an admission, as if she were confessing something hard but true. Because this was only supposed to be one weekend. This wasn’t supposed to be more. But the idea of this - them - ending after one weekend felt like a stone in her chest.
“Good,” he said, running his fingers across her calf, and his touch was something she was already used to, and already going to miss desperately. “We will manage what we can then.”
“Okay, but it might get expensive.”
“I don’t know how to break this to you gently, so I’m just going to be blunt. I do well for myself. I have frequent flyer miles and a credit card that works.”
She heaved out a playful sigh, even though inside that was part of what worried her, and a big part of why she needed to keep him not just at an arm’s length, but a football field length from Charlie. He’d find a way to blackmail him, tie him up into all sorts of trouble. A prominent lawyer boasting a client list teeming with money, he’d have a field day with Clay.
“I want to see you and I will buy you tickets and buy my own,” he continued. “I also have clients in San Francisco, and Los Angeles and I get to the west coast a lot.”
“I am sure, but I don’t want you paying for me. I don’t like owing people,” she said with a firmness to her tone. She didn’t want to be in anyone’s debt ever again.
“I don’t want to be paid back. I want to see you. I’m not buying you. I’m saying I want to date you and some dates require a cab, and some require a town car, and some require an airline ticket. And if that’s the cost of transportation – an airline ticket – if that’s my fare from New York to San Fran, I don’t see how that’s any different than if you lived in Brooklyn and came to see me here in Manhattan over the weekend,” he said, keeping his eyes locked on her the whole time as he spoke with such confidence.
“I guess, but I don’t want to feel like I’m a kept woman,” she said, even though she relished the idea of seeing him. He’d made a more-than-convincing argument that they should make a go of things.
He laughed hard. “No one ever in the whole wide world could keep you. I’m just going to be happy if I can spend a few hours with you.”
“You like the sex that much,” she said, playfully pushing her toes against his hard abs.
“You know I like the sex. I think the part that’s not getting through to you is how very much I like all the other parts. I like what’s in here,” he said, stretching across her to tap her forehead with his index finger, “And I like doing the things here,” he said, sweeping his thumb across her lips, “that involve talking.” He traveled down her chest, tracing a line between her breasts, and landing on her heart. “I also like the things I’m seeing in here.”
Her heart beat in double time, and it was such a foreign feeling for her, it had been so long since she’d felt for someone. It scared her, but felt wonderful at the same time too. But then, wasn’t that what liking someone felt like? A little bit like stepping off the diving board and taking the plunge. She grasped his hand, clutched it in hers, holding his against her chest. His eyes sparkled with a happiness, a genuine sort of joy, as if she’d just said yes to him. Which, she supposed, she had.
“So you’re gonna be my boyfriend?”
“Gorgeous, I’m not your boyfriend. I’m your lover. The only one.”
“Obviously. You are my only lover. No woman could ever have you and want or need another man.”
“Good. Now remember what I was saying about liking all the things we do?”
She nodded. “Yeah?”
He leaned across the bench, kissing her lips gently, then brushed them with his fingertips. The slightest kiss sent tingles through her. “I could do that and other things all night. But right now, I want you to use those lips to tell me more about you. You said your best friend is your sister. Besides your hair stylist, Gayle. Were you close to McKenna growing up or did you become best friends later?”
Her eyes widened. She was impressed that he remembered all the details, down to her hairdresser’s name. “We’ve always been close. We’re one year apart. Irish twins, as they say. We fought like sisters did, but most of the time, we were like this,” she said, twisting her index finger around her middle finger. “Read the same books, liked the same TV shows. We were both huge My So-Called Life junkies. The show was only on for one season, but we watched all the episodes over and over on cable, and recited the lines together, and we loved Jordan Catalano too from that show. So McKenna and I had this thing in high school when we started dating that we’d always check in on the other with a phone call.”
“Ah, the old friend emergency call,” he said, sketching air quotes.
“Yup,” she said, nodding proudly. “But our deal was if one of us was having a bad time and needed to be saved, that person would say I can’t believe Jordan’s arm is broken. And if we were having a good time and really liked a guy we’d say You’re watching My So-Called Life right now?”