But the truth is, I’m glad that it didn’t happen that way, that we didn’t have sex at the wedding. I would have never gotten to know her and knowing me, she would have just been another shag. Sure, I would have seen something challenging in her, maybe I would have been compelled to let that wild child out. But it was her resistance to me, her devotion and dedication to her child, to everything but herself, that made me obsessed with her to begin with. It may have taken time for our paths to cross again, but I’m eternally glad they did.
“Everything in due time,” I say after we’ve both come and we’re catching our breath. I zip up my pants and dispose of the condom in the nearest trash can.
“What?” she asks, her voice dreamy as she straightens out her dress. She looks so unbelievably beautiful after sex that I often have to pinch myself. Or herself. And then pinching just leads to more sex and the circle continues.
I grin at her. “That’s my motto. I told you last time we were here that I didn’t have one, and well, now I do. Everything in due time.” I pause. “And yours is live with no regrets.”
She nods and walks toward me. “What do you mean, everything in due time?” There’s hope in her eyes, something that wasn’t there earlier.
“I mean,” I say as she wraps her arms around me. I gaze down at her, lost in her charm, in her very soul, “that if we had shagged back then, we wouldn’t be where we are now. That in some way, we were meant to be together. That we were meant to part and then come together again. Maybe we both had to change in the smallest of ways in order for this work.”
“Well, I got fired. I wouldn’t say that change was in my hands,” she says. Her tone is joking but there’s this depth to her stare, a wistfulness over her brow.
“In due time, it all works out,” I tell her. “This is working out, isn’t it?”
For one wee second I’m deathly afraid that she might tell me it’s not working out. My heart seems to rattle in my chest.
But then she smiles, so softly, and places her hands around my neck. She licks her lips, nervous. “It’s more than working out, Bram,” she whispers. She swallows and traces my face with her delicate fingertips. I close my eyes to her touch, to her, to everything she makes me feel.
“Bram,” she says, sounding hushed. “I’m in love with you.”
She’s in love with me.
In love.
With me.
My chest bloody aches. It’s not what she’s said. What she’s said makes my soul want to sing, maybe scream a little. Tell the whole world that for some fucking reason, Nicola Price is in love with me.
It’s so much, so heavy, so…bloody undeserved.
But my chest aches and my gut feels heavy, weighted, because I know I can’t say the words back. Because I’m just not there yet. I’m almost there, but I won’t lie to her. I wouldn’t lie about something so rare and complicated as love.
In due time, I want to say again, I will feel the same.
But I can’t say that either. Things are far, far too complex than she even knows and if she knew the things I’m keeping from her, the things I’ve kept from everyone, she’d probably take it all back.
“Bram?” she asks, studying my face. “Did I say the wrong thing?”
I clear my throat gently. “Do you believe it?”
She blinks, shocked. “Of course I believe it. I…I love you.”
I shake my head once. “Then you didn’t say the wrong thing. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Surprised but grateful. It’s an honor for you to say those words to me.”
“An honor?” she repeats, letting go of my neck. “Why are you talking like you need a sword and a horse?”
I shrug, trying to be playful but I can tell she’s hurt, rejected like nothing else.
“Listen,” I tell her, trying to bring her to me but she wriggles out of my grasp and walks a few steps away. I follow her, putting a strong grip on her arm and holding her in place. “Don’t walk away. This is nothing to get upset about.”
“I just told you I love you!” she cries out, her expression pained. “And you didn’t say anything in return.”
“Nicola, please.” I smooth her hair behind her ears and hold her face in my hands. “I adore you. I want to spend every minute with you. I want to spend my future with you. But I’m a man of a past I have yet to shake, even though I’m working on it. You’re bringing me out of the past and into the future, where I belong.”
I try to kiss her but she moves her face out of the way. “It’s that woman, Taylor,” she whispers and I try not to freeze at the mention of her name. “It’s her, isn’t it? The one you fucked everything up with.”
“Not really,” I tell her and I’m being honest here. “No. It’s not like that. Honestly, I’m not in love with her, I swear to you, and that was many, many years ago.”
The can of worms is tipping. I should just come clean now. Come clean and explain and if she loves me, if she really loves me, she’ll understand. It’s nothing we can’t overcome, not at all. If anything, she might relate to me even more.
But I don’t say anything because I am more of a coward than I’d like to admit. I’m too damn proud and too bloody afraid to mess this up any further, even though it feels like I already have.
“Nicola,” I say to her again, my voice hard, “please believe me when I say I’m not in love with anyone but I swear to you it will be you and soon. I just need time to come around and when I do, it’s going to be magic.”
“Magic,” she repeats.
“Please,” I say, “you can’t fault me for being honest with you. I always have been and I won’t stop now. I am honored beyond belief that you actually love me, me the perpetual fuck-up, and I’m going to hold onto your love like it’s gold.” I kiss her softly, sweetly, and to my utmost relief, she kisses me back. “I’m never letting go of you either. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart. Forever.”
She nods but I can still spot that heart-breaking rejection in her eyes. I’ve seen it before and on a much larger scale.
We walk back into the party and I don’t let go of her for a second, even when she tries to leave. I keep holding on because I feel I’m so close to losing her and I can’t let that happen.
I can’t.
I won’t.
But I also can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen, all in due time.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nicola
“Nicola, can I see you for a moment in my office?” It’s Thursday night and though the expected crowd isn’t quite here yet, I’m still surprised that James is calling me away from the bar. I have to admit, I don’t like this one bit, and as I follow him into the back rooms where his office is, my hands are clammy. Last time I was called into a place like this, I was fired.
I wouldn’t be surprised if that happens. It’s been a weird week so far. First, I told Bram that I loved him and he didn’t respond in kind, which, although I appreciate his honesty, I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t absolutely ruin me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about, even though he’s being extra attentive with me now. And he was hella attentive before.
Also, his interview he did at the gala was featured on the news and now the whole world knows about his little project, well at least California since it was apparently turned into a story about the lack affordable housing in the entire state. The minute it went live, Steph called me up, then Linden called Bram and a few days later, his parents called, having heard about it from friends of theirs.
And just as Bram predicted, no one in his family is taking him seriously, at least that’s how Bram tells it. But I’d gone out for lunch with Steph and Kayla the other day and I can see their image of Bram has changed dramatically, and in the best way.