Constructing Us (New Adult Romance) (19 page)

When she tipped her face back, Tragan lurched forward, capturing her mouth in a possessive kiss.  Andy moaned as they kissed hungrily--until finally, she tore her lips from his.  “I’m not tired yet,” she said in a husky whisper
and rolled onto her stomach.  Wordlessly, she drew up on her knees.  With his breath coming up short, Tragan nearly growled in response as instinct took over.  He covered her body with his.  “Yes…
please
…” he heard her whisper, before he shoved his boxers down and hastily grasped for a condom.

He let out a rough groan as soon as he slid into her.  God, this was his favorite place to be.  She was already slick and burning-hot.  The pleasure of feeling her against his cock was indescribable, and riding her at this angle only made his dick harder. 
Patience, coherent thought--both were lost in the tides of raw, animalistic sex.  All Tragan felt was Andy’s body, warm and supple and welcoming.  All he heard were her anguished pleas for more, as she rocked against him.  “
Yes…
” she whispered feverishly, “
Harder
…” 

Overcome by lust and need,
he picked up his pace, plunging deeper and harder as he flattened his chest against her back, and brought his mouth to the nape of her neck.  “I love you, Andy,” he uttered gruffly, before he began to climax.  She might have said she loved him, too, but he wasn’t sure, because his mind was roaring, as immense pleasure poured through his body.  Through shuddering breaths, Andy let out a weak, blissful-sounding sigh…and words were set aside.

Chapter Thirty-six

“I can’t believe what I’m about to say,” Andy whispered to Emma, after scurrying across the terra cotta tiles of their mom’s Tuscan-style kitchen and accosting her sister by the pantry.  “Mom actually seems to like Tragan!”

Supportively, Emma smiled
. “He definitely seems like a good guy, Andy--very genuine.”

“You think?” Andy said hopefully.

“Absolutely. I like him,” Emma said, as she reached for an opened box of graham crackers.  There were two shelves in Kathryn’s pantry that were stocked with food for Emma’s sons--generally an array of bland snacks that were fairly unappealing to adults.  “He seems pretty laid back, which is good.  And I can tell he’s really into you.”

“How?”
Andy asked curiously.

“Just the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking, like he’s listening to every word, like h
e’s completely taken with you,” Emma said. “
And
he’s been extremely patient with Jake’s magic tricks tonight, which, believe me, is not easy after the twelfth repetition.”

“True--though,
when I slipped out of the dining room a minute ago, Jake had actually moved on to knock-knock jokes.”

Blinking her pretty hazel eyes,
Emma shot a woeful look to the ceiling.  “I’d better get back in there.  He only knows like one.”  She slid out two sheets of graham crackers and wrapped them in a paper towel. 


So Ben really prefers
those
to the black forest cake Mom ordered from Pierre’s, with authentic Swiss chocolate and imported Italian cherries?” Andy said.  “And I’m only half-kidding.”

“Ha, I know. 
Four-year-olds never appreciate imported fruit,” Emma said dryly.  Once she closed the pantry door, she spoke a bit more earnestly.  “Everything is going great tonight, Andy.  Don’t you think?” 

“Yes!  The whole
birthday dinner has actually been easy and relaxed.”  They’d gotten through the entire meal, from salad to singing, without an unpleasant or awkward moment.  “To be honest, I was worried.”

“You shouldn’t worry so much.  First of all, Mom is too much of an etiquette fangirl to snub your new boyfriend or try to make him feel awkward.”

“That’s true, you’re right.  Mom’s way too classy for that,” Andy said.

“Exactly.  Also, Darcy and Ted always keep the conversation going,” Emma pointed out, referring to Ethan’
s parents, who, with the exception of Tragan, were the only non-family guests at the table.  As Emma said, the Fields were reliable conversationalists.  Tonight they had told some amusing stories about their cruise to Alaska, also engaged Andy about her upcoming plans for graduate school, and even shared a few anecdotes about Ethan’s adjustment to English cuisine.  Fortunately, Darcy didn’t mention anything about the research study Ethan wanted Andy to try.

“So
, no worries,” Emma stated, breaking Andy’s train of thought.

“I’m
just relieved that Mom is really giving Tragan a chance,” Andy said then.  “I was afraid she’d cling on to this fantasy of Brad and me married someday.”

With a roll of her eyes, Emma said, “You know how Mom is.  She has the best intentions of course, but she’s always been one to look at style over substance.  Remember even when we were younger and we used to ask her about how she and Dad fell in love?  She’d tell us all about the BMW he picked her up in, the fancy restaurant he took
her to, all the stuff he bought her.  I mean, I get it; she’s telling the story of how Dad swept her off her feet.  But you have to admit, her focus can be kind of superficial.”

Before Andy could respond to that, the kitchen door opened and Tragan ducked his head in.  “Hey--you okay?”

“Sure, why?” Andy said, walking closer.

“Just you’ve been gone
a while, I wanted to make sure,” he said after he stepped into the kitchen.


I’m good,” she assured him, as her sister came up behind her. 

“Excuse me,” Emma
said, slipping past both of them to return to the dining room.  

“Also I wondered: where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh,” Andy said with a laugh, then pointed to an archway near the refrigerator.  “You can go through that door.  The closest bathroom is past the front entrance where we came in and down the hall to the left.”

“Got it.”

When she reached up to kiss him on the cheek, Tragan turned his head to kiss her on the lips.  Curling her fingers around his shirt for a second, Andy kissed him softly.  “See you back at the table in a few minutes.”

~

Those few minutes came and went, but Tragan didn’t make it back to the table.  He was held up by Andy’s mother, who was waiting for him in the hall.

“I’d like to speak with you,” Kathryn said quietly.

“Sure,” Tragan said, feeling uneasy right away.  She’d been kind and polite to him throughout Andy’s birthday dinner, but cornering him away from the other guests threw up a red flag.

“Everyone is in the den right now
with espresso and cordials,” Kathryn explained.  “Andy is playing a game with her nephews, so we have a moment to talk.”

Cautiously
, Tragan waited to hear what the woman had to say.  He’d been hoping to win her approval by simply being polite, being good to Andy--basically, by being himself.  Maybe that was too naïve of a strategy, he thought now, as Kathryn’s eyes--which were as big and blue as Andy’s, but somehow harder and icier--drilled into him.  “Tragan, this isn’t an easy conversation, but it’s necessary,” she began.  “I can see that you care for Andy, and I’m sure it’s mutual.  However, right now she has an incredible opportunity to get well again.”

“The
London thing,” he blurted, not meaning to interrupt.

Kathryn’s
eyebrows tilted up.  “Good, so you
do
know about it.  Then you should also know how significant this could be.  And the timing couldn’t be more perfect.  Andy’s not obligated to school or a job yet.  She has time to do this now.”

“I know that, Mrs. Delphin,” Tragan
agreed.  “Believe me, I’ve tried to convince Andy to give it a shot.”

“You
have
?”

That obviously surprised her. 
Did she think Tragan was some sort of selfish dick who was guilting his girlfriend into staying?  After releasing a visible sigh, Kathryn said, “Well, that makes me feel better--to know you legitimately care about what’s best for Andy.”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, secretly irritated by her assumption that he didn’t.  S
hould he tell her straight out that he was in love with Andy?  No, it didn’t feel natural or comfortable for him to blurt out something personal like that. 

“Well, if that’s true,” Andy’s mom
continued, still appraising him.  (Despite being about seven inches taller than her, Tragan felt he was being talked down to.) “I trust you’ll do whatever you have to so that Andy doesn’t miss this chance.”

“Like I said, I’ve tried to--

“No, you don’t understand.  Andy is not going to go anywhere as long as you’re in the picture.”

“Um…what?”

“You heard her tonight
, talking about graduate school with the Fields.  She’s not even considering any schools outside of Boston.  Now why would she limit herself like that?”


Boston
is
her home,” Tragan offered lamely.

“It’s because she
doesn’t want to be apart from you.  That’s obvious.”

T
ragan wasn’t sure what to say.  He had a feeling it was true.  He also had a burning need not to be apart from her, either, so it was kind of hard to criticize the idea. 

“Put some
one else ahead of yourself,” Kathryn advised with an unmistakable air of superiority.  “Now, you say you care about Andy, but if you
really
care…”  She let her voice trail off, suggestively.

Tragan wasn’t letting her off easy with vague hints. 
“Then what?” he said.

Kathryn crossed her arms over her chest, kept her tone even and her eyes sharp.  “Then y
ou’ll let her go.”

“Of course I’ll let her go,”
Tragan said, hoping--or maybe trying--to misunderstand.  “I’ll
encourage
her to go--”

“No.  I mean: let her go,” Kathryn reiterated, enunciating those last three words.

Her certain meaning socked him hard in the chest.  God, could she seriously expect him to…what?  Break up with Andy?  Cut her loose and walk away? 

“It would only be temporary,”
Kathryn rushed to say.  “The study only has another six months.  After that, Andy will come back and the two of you can resume.”  The words sounded hollow, and Tragan had a tin taste in his mouth as he listened.  “But for now, the only way Andy will consider this is if she doesn’t have something else keeping her here.”  Like a boyfriend she’s afraid to leave behind, Tragan thought.  “Obviously any attempts you’ve made to convince her to go to London aren’t working, but if you were out of the picture--temporarily--then it will be easy to get her to see reason.”

Now tears
glazed over Kathryn’s eyes, like ice thawing in front of him, and she blotted them quickly before they could fall.  “I’m sorry to put you in this position, but I have no choice.  I’m begging you,
please
, don’t hold Andy back right now.  If you truly want her to be well, then you’ll break ties with her.  Think of it this way: if you’re meant to be together, you’ll find each other again.”

The hollow, empty words had returned to close out her plea.  Only this time, Tragan could see the utter desperat
ion bleeding through Kathryn Delphin’s composed façade.  After a brief, aloof smile, she turned and click-clacked down the hall. 

Consumed in thought, he stood there for several minutes. 
Vaguely, he heard the laughter of Andy and her nephews sounding from the den.  More prominent, though, was the riotous disquiet of his mind.  What the hell was he going to do?  His general concern for Andy was now saturated with uncertainty and frustration and even a sense of panic.  It wasn’t fair; this couldn’t be happening.  How was he supposed to give up the girl he loved?

Chapter Thirty-seven

By the time they returned home that night, Tragan’s gut had tightened into a tense knot.  He kept playing Kathryn Delphin’s words in his mind.
Put someone else ahead of yourself.  If you really care about Andy, you’ll let her go.

Temporarily
.  That was the part his mind kept replaying.  Could it really work?  If he loved Andy, he
should
do what was in her best interest.  But maybe he could do it in a way that still left the road paved for them.  He’d already tried to convince her to consider London and she’d shut down the idea right away.  Apparently Ethan and her own mother couldn’t convince her, yet if it weren’t for Tragan, surely she’d consider it.  Why not?  What else was tying her here right now?

“You’ve been so quiet the whole way home,”
Andy commented, breaking his train of thought as he tossed his keys down.  “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, babe
.  I just…I have a headache,” he lied.

“Headache?” she echoed softly, her brow scrunching in concern.  “Tha
t’s my line.”

He gave her a feeble smile.  God, how could he let her go?  She was so beautiful, so perfect
for him, so special to him…  “I’m just gonna hit the sack, I guess,” he muttered.

“Okay.  Me, too,” she agreed, leading
the way toward the bedroom.  “By the way, my family really loved you, especially the boys, I could tell.”


Really?” he mumbled. 

“My mom approves, too,” Andy added
brightly.  Tragan held his tongue, though he knew Andy’s mother would only be a fan of his if he dumped her daughter.  Obviously he wasn’t about to tell Andy that.

About ten minutes later, Tragan was stripped to his boxers
, waiting under the covers for Andy, who’d gone to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.  When she returned, his heart swelled a little at the sight of her, and then the feel of her as she climbed over him to get on “her side” of the bed.  Helplessly, he reached for her, pulled her close.  “How’s your head?” she asked.

“Better,” he lied again.  The fabricated headache from before was actually turning real, as
his skull began to drum and the tension in his bones grew heavier.

“Goodnight,” she murmured, as she buried her
cheek deep in her pillow.  “I love you.”

As he ran his gaze over her silhouette,
Tragan swallowed down a hard lump of anxiety.  “I love you, too, babe,” he told her, because it was the only thing right now he was certain of.

~

The next day Tragan got home from work and found Andy sitting on the living room floor, with papers laid across the coffee table.  “Hi,” she said cheerfully when he entered. 

“Hey…” he said, feeling his stomach knot up again.  He’d
spent the day wrestling with his decision and seeing her now made him nervous as hell about it.  The awesome aroma that came from the kitchen made him feel even guiltier.

“Are you hungry?
” she said.  “I made chicken cordon blue.  I would have made something from the Taiwanese cookbook you got me, but I didn’t have the ingredients yet.”

Tragan managed a nod.  “
What are you up to?” he asked offhandedly.

“Grad school applications
.  BC, BU, and Northeastern.  By the way, did you decide where you want to enroll in classes?”

“Um, I just figured Boston Community,” he
replied, hesitating at the edge of the couch.  He could either stall, keep walking toward the kitchen for a drink or some crap, or he could get this torture over with now.  “Andy…uh…” 

She spun her pen between her fingers as she blinked up at him.  “Yes?”

Suddenly his throat was tight and dry; he had to force the words out.  “I’ve been thinking.  Look, I’m just gonna say it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Us,” he answered.  “I mean…I’m just thinking that maybe we should…you know…” he rambled uncomfortably.  Damn breaking up with a girl was always awful, but doing this to Andy was beyond belief misery.  The only thing driving him forward right now was the word Andy’s mom had dangled. 
Temporarily
.  If Tragan could get her to go to London, but keep the lines of communication open between them over the phone, email…maybe take a few vacation days off of work to visit her…he could win her back.  He’d prove to her the whole time she was over there how devoted he was. 

“We should what?” she asked
now, sounding concerned, confused and sort of annoyed, all at once. 

“Take a break,”
Tragan said.

Andy’s
mouth curved open, but no words came out.  It took all of Tragan’s restraint not to kneel down on the floor next to her and tell her he didn’t really mean it.  Still, he stood there, wearing his poker face.  “A break?” she repeated finally--then narrowed her eyes suspiciously.  “Is this about my family?  Did they say something to you?”

“No, no,
nothing like that.  Your family’s great.”  Sure he could tell her the truth about his conversation with Kathryn, but what would it accomplish?  It would only make Andy mad at her mother and more determined not to do what she wanted.  Wouldn’t that almost prove what Kathryn had implied--that Tragan was putting himself ahead of Andy?

He decided to improvise. 
“But now that you mention it…seeing them, meeting them all, well, it just made me realize that…things have gotten heavy between you and me.  Everything’s moving fast, you know?”


Okay…
” Andy gritted out, now getting blatantly angry now.

Tragan could feel sweat breaking out on the nape of his neck.  Damn, this was harder than he imagined.  “I just think we moved too fast maybe and we need…”

“What?  To break up?” Andy interrupted, clearly shocked. 

“Yeah.”

“Are you serious right now?” she said and climbed to her feet.  When she blinked at him, he saw a film of tears cloud over her eyes, making them bluer.

“I’m sorry,”
Tragan said.  At least that part was true.  “For now I just…it’s all too much for me,” he babbled, turning away from her.  “I guess I, uh, I need space.”

“You don’t mean it,” Andy
told him, her voice cracking.  Jesus, she was so vulnerable and sweet.  How could he hurt her this way?

“I do,” he said, literally forcing out the words.

“No--
you don’t.”

“Andy, please…”
Tragan practically begged, because he was teetering on the verge of taking it all back, and would if she kept pushing him.  

“If you mean it, then why can’t you look at me?”

“Andy…”

“Answer the question!

“Because this is fucking hard, okay?”
Tragan’s tone was brusque, as acid burned his retina.  He never cried, yet could feel emotion welling up in him.  “I’m not enjoying this, all right?  I care about you, I do.  But…” 

When he
heard her sniffling, his heart twisted up into a painful knot.  He swallowed deeply, hating himself right now.  “You said you didn’t care about the Bronsteg,” she said.

“I don’t!
  Wait--Andy, I don’t care about that at all, I swear!” he insisted.  Hell, he couldn’t have her thinking
that
.

“Then what’s ‘too much’ for you?
” she challenged.  “What are you even talking about?”

A
t that, Tragan only shook his head.  He couldn’t look her in the eye.  In fact, he couldn’t stand to be there any longer.  “I should go, give you some space.  I’ll stay at Matt’s tonight.”  Without looking back, Tragan retread his steps to the front door.  “Babe, I’m sorry,” he threw in weakly, pathetically, as he left her alone in the apartment.  He should have known he was kidding himself.  He hadn’t gotten the torture over with at all--it was only just beginning.

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