“Is it Colin?” Daddy moved closer, I felt him—powerful and commanding and immobile as a sequoia—at my side.
Yes, it was Colin. Partly. But I couldn’t admit
why
it was Colin.
“I know you two didn’t get along, but that was in the past, Ashlyn.
Try to put it behind you.”
I closed my eyes. I
had
put it behind me. But I couldn’t help myself. His face, smile, the way his eyes probed me… stirring that deep yearning.
“You hate him that much?” Daddy’s gentle hand took my chin and turned my face to his lawyer-sharp gaze.
What did he want to hear? Accustomed to telling him what would make him happy, I searched his eyes for the answer.
I nodded.
Was that relief I saw pass through his irises? A shudder rambled along my bones. His lips lit in a smile. He wrapped me in a hug meant to comfort, but I was too astounded at the look I’d seen in his eyes to be comforted.
“I know he teased you when you were children, and I know you disliked him. Hated him even. But this will work itself out,” he murmured, his hand in soft strokes against my head. “Why don’t you go to the music room and play?” He eased back, hands on my shoulders. “It’s been ages since I’ve heard you play my song.”
Eyes closed, I released my anguish and angst into the piano. After Daddy had left, I’d played Beethoven, but the melody now trickling across the keys was light, ethereal, and mysterious. Colin’s tune. Even as the song echoed off the walls, each note threatened to envelop and monopolize me with beauty. I couldn’t stop. The tune pushed itself from my soul, swung around my heart, and sprung from my fingertips. I played it over and over again.
I opened my eyes, jolted. Colin. Next to the piano.
“I keep doing that, I’m sorry.” His cheeks flashed with pink, his dimples deepening.
“It’s okay,” I sputtered. “I’m usually in here alone.”
“That song…it’s…”
“What?” I asked.
“I like it.”
I took a deep, fluttering breath. I was grateful Colin hadn’t told Daddy about lunch today. And, after I’d played for Daddy, I’d spent a good portion of the night telling myself I could be in the same room with Colin and not let his charisma make my knees weak and leave my tongue speechless.
“Charles asked me to take you on a walk,” Colin said. “You want to go?”
“Take me?” I gritted my teeth, stood. “Like a dog or something?”
Colin dipped his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put it like that.”
“It’s not you,” I said. “It’s…” Hopefully, Colin didn’t see that Mother and Daddy treated me like I was an incapable child. “Sure.
That’d be great.” Maybe I could run away while we were out, Colin would get busted and fired and Daddy would… I frowned.
Daddy would hire an ape—an old, ugly ape.
Colin watched my face closely. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I pushed around him and headed for the double doors.
“I’ll get my coat and meet you in the entry,” I mumbled.
We walked west to Central Park, the brisk wind biting our cheeks and noses. I was glad I’d brought a knit hat and mittens. The white down jacket I wore kept my body toasty. Colin wore a black wool coat and black knit beanie. He looked hot in black. Mother had insisted he wear one of the extra Ferrigamo scarves she kept on hand in the coat closet, which Colin had reluctantly agreed to.
“Sorry about Mother,” I said.
“She’s a mom.” He shrugged. “That’s what moms do.”
“Moms maybe. She’s a mother.”
Colin laughed. The sight caused a jolting buzz to break loose down low in my stomach.
Central Park, with its maze of walkways, rocks, trees, and bushes was an endless black abyss at night. I didn’t want to walk into the park. I wasn’t allowed there after nightfall. Every warning I’d heard from Daddy about safety screamed to stay out of dark places.
At my side, Colin’s stride was sure and strong. As we approached the fringes of the park, he studied the dark depths. “Let’s stay out here.”
We continued west, passing homeless people crouched along the low rock wall surrounding the park. Some slept, some begged for a handout. Further along, we came to a handful of men carrying big green garbage bags full of designer knock-off bags, wallets, hats, and other accessories. Colin shook his head at each attempt to stop us. When one man nagged me in the face, Colin put his hand at the small of my back. A jolt of wired heat shocked through me.
He shouldered the man aside and guided me away from the vultures, our pace quickening, and we continued on.
His jaw tensed. Steam blew from his tight lips.
“What?” I asked. “Those guys back there?”
He gave a sharp nod. “They don’t know when to stop.” His hand slipped away from my back, and the vacancy shuddered through me in cold emptiness.
“How about the bookstore?” he asked, gaze lighting on the Barnes & Noble up ahead.
“Yeah, I love bookstores.”
“Me too.”
Shoppers crowded into the building on the corner of 66th and Broadway. The smell of fresh coffee and book paper gusted at us as we herded inside. Colin’s gloved fingers grazed my elbow. “What do you want to look at?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about me.” The last thing I wanted was for him to follow me around like a babysitter. “I’ll be fine. Really. I won’t split, I promise.” His brows knitted for a moment. He seemed satisfied, but he waited until I started in the direction of women’s romance.
I couldn’t stand in one place—
forget browsing
. My mind drifted repeatedly to Colin. I decided to see where he was.
I found him nose-deep in a psychology book. I didn’t have the heart to interrupt, so I stayed half-hidden, an aisle over, my eyes trained on him.
He leaned a shoulder against the shelf, one hip cocked. The way his long fingers cradled the book, one hand gently turning the pages, caused the fantasy of him pressing me against the bedroom door, kissing me, those fingers touching my face to play across my mind.
His mouth…
Suddenly, his face lifted. His eyes met mine. My heart rate skyrocketed. He started over. “Everything okay?” he queried, studying me.
“Uh. Yeah.” I shook my head, flushed with heat from head to toe.
“I was just… looking around.”
Looking at him, you idiot. You sound so
stupid.
I grabbed the first book I could, then my eyes widened when I read the title
Men: Is There a Mystery?
Colin’s gaze flicked to the book. He grinned. “Okay, well, if you’re good, I’ll just—”
“Yes, I’m good. Great. Thanks.” I turned and shoved the book back on the shelf in a vain effort to appear preoccupied. He paused a moment.
Finally, he headed back to the book he’d been reading.
Another title caught my attention:
Guys: Insider Edition
. What I knew about males I’d first heard from Mother, her version was always coated with saccharine and dipped in diamonds. Ideals she hoped existed for me but, from what I overheard in school and the scraps Felicity shared, I figured her version of men was as unreal as happily ever after. My romance novels had been covert text books of sorts. Some men preferred a woman who dominated with her advances. While others enjoyed a more submissive woman. Kissing should be an exploration, an extension of deeper feelings.
Like sex.
I glanced around, face heating. What details I knew of sex I’d read in magazines, romance novels and what Mother had briefly—and with much discomfort—shared with me, and the brief chats I’d snuck in with Felicity on the subject. These chapters were technical, fascinating, with illustrations that left my eyes wide.
Colin’s face came to mind; his smile, his eyes, the way his lips moved when he spoke. I imagined those lips against mine. Hot tremors swirled from my mouth to my center. No doubt everyone in this room had experienced these feelings before. The woman in the red coat and candy-striped scarf standing next to me—had she felt this flush of excitement? The teenager wearing the shaggy fur hat and round black glasses, had she felt these exhilarating feelings?
Invigoration settled into disillusionment, wrapping heavily around my heart. What would life be like if I was allowed to explore them? Colin wouldn’t see me as some child in need of babysitting. I pictured myself admired, held, and kissed.
Loved—loving, would be a gratifying, unrivaled experience.
I could use this book.
I slipped it under my arm for safe-keeping until I could purchase it.
Hearing Colin’s laughter, I looked over. He stood next to a tall, sweater and cords college type. The guy playfully slugged him.
“Yeah, we’ll get a drink sometime.” The stranger paused when I stopped next to them. “I’ll see you around.” The guy walked away.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“A friend from school. Are you going to get something?” He glanced at the book in tucked beneath my arm.
“What? Oh, just this.”
He tried to eye the book and I stuffed it deeper. When we checked out, I cringed when he plucked the book and handed it to the woman behind the counter so it could be scanned, paid for, and bagged.
Colin held the door open as we left the stuffy store and went out into the biting cold. A slight grin lifted his lips.
“What?” I asked.
“You don’t need that stuff.”
We came to the corner and waited for the light to change.
“What if I do?”
His dark eyes studied me for a moment. “Everything you need to know about love is already inside of you, Ashlyn.” He held my gaze until the light changed. Then his warm hand was at my back again as we crossed the street. Was he right? I’d read a lot in magazines and books in an effort to feel more at ease about intimacy, but here he was telling me that my instincts, no matter how naïve, were all I needed.
We walked in silence for a while. I savored every person we passed looking at us, thinking we were a couple. A stupid fantasy, but I indulged anyway. He enjoyed watching a group of street dancers doing stunts to the thump of a loud boom-box on the plaza just outside Central Park. I was entranced with the way his jaw moved when he laughed, the strong yet fragile look of skin over bone. What would that skin feel like to touch? He had a nice profile. I liked the straight tip of his nose, now turning pink from cold.
“Those kids are good.” He didn’t look at me. I was glad—looking at him kept a warm simmering alive inside me. A shadow was forming on his jaw where he shaved. The contrast of roughness over his finely angled face created a shivering of want through me. The brisk wind picked up the ends of his hair, tossing the dark waves as though invisible fingers played in it. My fingers rubbed together in the depths of my coat pockets.
“Do you like to dance?” He looked at me then, startling me. I turned my gaze toward the bouncing, twisting teens.
“Yes.”
He brought me in for a quick side-hug. “Ash, come on. We’re friends.”
Awash with frustration, I left his embrace and walked away. Being alone, when my side or back didn’t feel the heat of a companion, was unnerving. I didn’t slow. I didn’t want to be friends with him.
Friends don’t make each other feel this way—like I can’t wait to get up every morning to see him.
“Hey,” he called.
I had read scenes like this in books, lovers in a disagreement.
But we weren’t lovers. We weren’t friends—not yet, anyway—and he was there for one reason only. He was my companion, nothing more. As romantic as the moment looked, as exciting as it felt, it wasn’t real.
When he took my elbow and gently turned me to face him, I dismissed the skittering inside as a ridiculous overreaction.
“I…” He glanced at his hand on my elbow before he tucked his fingers back into his pocket. “Did I say something wrong?”
Wind whipped around us. “No. It was me. I’m…”
I’m a lonely,
repressed, pathetic wannabe who doesn’t know the first thing about love,
men or relationships.
Blood drained from my face. I turned from his piercing gaze.
Colin dipped his head down and looked into my face at eye level. “You okay?”
“Everyone treats me like I’m a baby.”
“That wasn’t my intention. But you are my responsibility.”
“I’m not a baby.” Annoyance forced me to start walking again.
“No, but you are…” He fell in step beside me. “There is something about you that is—”
“What? Tell me.”
He shook his head. “There I go again, saying things that get me in trouble,” he stated lightly.
“I’d say it’s a little late for that, Colin.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is.”
We walked in silence for a block. Why
are you acting like a baby if
you want to be treated like an adult?
I wouldn’t waste what precious time we had together wound up in pride. “May I ask you something personal?”
“Ask away.”
“How come you’re not with someone?”
“I’m with you.” He shot a twinkling grin.
“You know what I mean.”
He shuffled back and forth on his feet to keep warm while we waited for the green light. Then his hands cupped his mouth and he blew. “I broke up with a girl just a few months ago.”
A pang of jealousy rang through me.
Who was she?
We crossed the street and headed up 78th toward Park. A sinking feeling came over me. In a few minutes, I’d see the dim lights of the townhouse. This night would be over.
“Why… what… oh, it’s none of my business,” I stammered.
“She was someone else once I got to know her,” he said. “And I couldn’t open my mouth without saying something stupid.”
No one’s past had ever mattered before. Now, his past prickled like an itch that had to be scratched.
We turned the corner and were on Park. Home loomed in the distance. I slowed.
“What about you?” he asked.
“Me what? And guys?”
“I can’t believe Charles doesn’t keep a golf club by the door to beat away the droves.”
“I don’t date much.”
“Why? Or does Charles not let you date?”
We waited at another corner with a small crowd. The townhouse was on the next block.
“He—well, Daddy wants me to wait.”