“It might be nowhere.”
“I’m willing to take that chance. Are you?”
And Kate thought about it. Truly thought about it. Thought about how Nat made her feel more free. How she’d sung in the car. How she’d fallen over attempting yoga poses. How Nat somehow seemed able to crack through her shell until she behaved like a teenager. It was, she had to admit, a feeling that she liked. One that scared her. But she liked it. She knew she was close to forgiving Nat for their past, now that she understood better. Jake was out of the picture. What was stopping her?
“I might be moving to New York.”
“How about we cross that bridge when we come to it?”
It had been so long. So long since she’d had someone, so long since she’d let herself go, since she’d lost control. She wanted this. That was the truth of the matter. She’d been truthful with Nat, now she had to be truthful with herself.
“I’m willing to try,” she said slowly.
“Alright,” Nat said, her hand still on Kate’s thigh, her warmth still soaking through her skin. “Why don’t we start off easy.”
“Easy?”
“Would you have dinner with me? Like a date? I want to do this properly. I want to do it for real. So how about a date? Next week maybe. Give you some time to process all of this, to think first.”
She hesitated only for a second longer, knowing now that her fall was unstoppable that she could do nothing about it. She closed her eyes because she knew that if she looked at Nat now then she wouldn’t be able to hold back, that she’d kiss her, more, that she’d lose complete control.
“Okay,” she said. “Dinner.”
Chapter Eleven
“It’s just dinner.”
“No, it’s not. It’s more than that. It’s a date. A date isn’t just dinner,” Kate said.
She was breathing harder than she should, the treadmill under her feet just a touch too fast for having a conversation. She turned it down a notch.
“Okay, so, it’s a date. So what?” Mel said, her ponytail bouncing with each step as they ran side by side.
“What do you mean, so what? So she bullied the hell out of me. So she’s not out. So she’s supposed to be dating Jake Allingham. So she’s one of the top models in the country. So... There’s a million things, Mel.”
One after the other both treadmills beeped and automatically switched to cool down mode. Kate settled into a fast walk. Before them a window looked out onto the sunny city, heat making the buildings in the distance look distorted. Not that Kate had chosen the gym for its view, but it definitely helped.
“Tell me more about this Van character.”
Kate sighed. “Jake isn’t really the hero of this story.”
“But I’m curious. I’m assuming Van’s attractive. I’m just interested is all.”
“No, you’re fuelling your fantasies. And you can’t breathe a word of any of this to anyone.”
“As if I would,” pouted Mel. “But fine. Do you want my honest opinion?”
“Always.”
“You need to date. You need to get laid. You need to get out there and break out of this little isolation bubble that you’re in. It’s not healthy to be so alone. It’s not healthy to be so in control of everything all the time. You’re human, and humans need intimacy, at least on some level.”
“But with Nat?”
“You like her. Obviously you like her. There’s a connection there for whatever reason, so why not with her? You need to let go, Kate. And Nat sounds like she makes you let go, makes you relax.”
“I guess.”
And her breath was coming a little faster again, though the treadmill was slowing down. The thought of Nat, the thought of spending time alone with her, was deliciously terrifying. Both machines ran through their cycle and stopped, Mel climbed down, grabbing a towel and her water bottle.
“You need to trust someone else,” she said, after taking a drink. “I get why you don’t. But you need to.”
“And why exactly don’t I?”
Mel smiled at her. “You’ve told me yourself why not. Your grandfather, as sweet and generous as he was, taught you to rely on yourself. Which is all very well and good. But did you think about why he might have taught you that?”
“Because it was good for me, I guess. Because he thought it was the right way to live. I don’t know.”
Mel handed her a towel and sat down on a bench to stretch out.
“You were all of, what, five when your parents died?”
Kate nodded. She had no memory really of the accident and all that came after it. Her parents had been driving home from dinner with friends and their car had gone off the side of the road. As far as she knew there had never been any explanation other than that. In fact, she had few memories of her parents at all, other than a hazy recollection of the smell of perfume and bright smiles.
“Meaning your grandfather was how old?”
“When he took me in? I’d guess a little over sixty. Sixty-three, four or so.”
“Exactly,” Mel said, looking up at her with soft eyes. “You were five. He was over sixty. He taught you to take care of yourself, to rely on no one other than yourself, because he knew that there was a good chance that you were going to have to do precisely that at a very young age. There was every chance that he was going to pass before you were old enough to truly grow up, you’d need to be put into foster care, or at the very least you’d be left alone at an extremely young age. So he taught you to be self-sufficient, just in case.”
Kate drank deeply from her own water bottle. The conversation was beginning to make her feel uncomfortable, but she could see the sense in what Mel was saying.
“But you were both lucky,” Mel said. “And in the end, you had plenty of time together. Now you’re an adult, you’re able to make informed decisions about who to trust and not to trust, about what relationships to pursue. You don’t need to be protected by this blanket ‘trust no one other than yourself’ rule. You see what I’m saying?”
“I do,” Kate said thoughtfully.
“So go on your date. Have fun. If it works out, great, if it doesn’t, that sucks, but you’ll move on. What’s important is that you start trusting other people to enter your life.”
“Got it,” Kate said, wanting to end the conversation now. Mel was right, the advice was solid. She was going on this damn date, and she was going to try. Okay, so she wasn’t a hundred percent sure about Nat. But she was absolutely certain about the feelings Nat provoked. And that had to be a start.
✽✽✽
She clanged the mailbox closed. Nothing there. Not that she’d really expected anything. Her portfolio had only been sent off three days ago. Plus, she’d already checked the mailbox twice, once in the morning and again after lunch, just to be sure. So obviously there wasn’t going to be anything now. Her hands shook a little as the nerves of checking the mail began to wear off, only to be replaced by the nerves of a date that she still wasn’t completely convinced about.
By the time her Uber arrived at the appointed meeting place she was more nervous still. She took a deep breath, then another before getting out. Her Converse hit the tarmac and she rolled her shoulders. Jeans and a flimsy tank top with studded decorations, an outfit she felt comfortable in, not too feminine, but then she figured that Nat would probably be feminine enough for the both of them.
“Over here!”
Nat was waving her arm in the air to attract attention. Not that she needed to. Every eye on the street was already on her. Kate took yet another deep breath and walked over. She could do this. Except when she met Nat she froze, unsure of what her move was supposed to be. Nat stood up on tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss against her cheek. The kiss left her dizzy enough that she paid little attention to Nat’s chatter as they walked into the casual restaurant Nat had chosen.
This can’t be happening. This really can’t be happening. Her, Kate, Katie Steinhauser, on a date with a model. She could almos
t laugh at the ridiculousness of it.
“Feels weird, huh?”
Nat’s words caught her attention.
“Weird?”
“Me, you, a date, whatever. Being out in public. Feels weird to me too,” Nat said, and she was smiling. “Just relax. Think of this like, I don’t know, like a trial run. Nothing depends on it. We have dinner. If we have fun, we maybe do it again. If we don’t, then we don’t. No expectations. No big deal.”
Kate allowed herself to relax a little. “Whatever you say, boss,” she said.
“Hmm, ceding a little control to me, are you?” Nat said, raising her eyebrows. “Maybe we’re getting somewhere.”
She opened her menu and then looked back up at Kate who could feel herself falling into those tawny eyes and being irresistibly drawn closer, wanting to feel those lips again.
“So, tell me about you, Kate,” said Nat. “You know far too much about me. What’s your story?”
Kate was still talking about college when the waiter brought the bottle of wine she’d ordered along with two glasses. It wasn’t until he was already pouring that she wondered if the alcohol had really been a good idea. But to her surprise, Nat put her hand over her glass.
“None for me, thanks.”
The waiter nodded and left the bottle on the side of the table.
“No wine?”
“No drinking,” Nat said. “At least not much. I had my first audition, it went well. I don’t want to jinx things.”
“Impressive.”
But Nat was flushing, a look that she didn’t sport often.
“And maybe because of you,” she said, quietly.
“Me?”
Nat nodded. “What you said, about peer pressure, about doing what was expected of me, behaving the way I thought others wanted me to behave, it got to me. I never wanted to turn into a bully, Kate. I honestly didn’t. In fact, I’ve done everything I can to try and forget about that time, I’m so ashamed of myself for what I did. But perhaps you’re right, perhaps I’m falling into the same traps again with the drinking and the alcohol.”
“Standing up to people who you want to be liked by must be difficult,” Kate said carefully.
“How do you do it?”
Kate laughed. “That’s easy. I don’t want to be liked by anyone. I just don’t care. I’m not out to impress.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“Sometimes it is,” shrugged Kate. “But for me it’s easier that way.”
Nat’s eyes were clear and bright and sparked with something that could almost be sympathy. She looked away for a second, and when she looked back she was blinking a little.
“You were right about all this,” she said. “This lifestyle. I know it’s toxic. I know what happens to people like me, I’m surrounded by stories of overdoses and failure. But I want you to know that I am trying. And I honestly believe that I’m strong enough to survive this, that I’m going to beat the odds, that I’m going to be clean and successful, and... well, not a stereotype.”
Kate found herself reaching across the table, taking Nat’s hand, squeezing it gently.
“I hope you are,” she said. “I really hope you are.”
✽✽✽
They walked side by side down the sidewalk, close enough that their arms brushed and sent a thrill through Kate every time. The evening was warm and sticky, the sky almost dark, and they were quiet as they walked. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, more pregnant with possibilities. Ones that Kate couldn’t even begin to fathom.
“So, what’s the verdict?”
“Hm?”
“On the date,” Nat said. “Did you have fun? Fun enough to try again maybe?”
The evening had been fun. After a while, after they’d both settled into themselves a little. Once talk had turned to things they enjoyed, movies, music. Once Nat had admitted to knowing all the words to Fame, and proceeding to recite them until Kate was practically screaming with laughter. Once Kate had talked about her grandfather, his passing, how lonely she sometimes felt without him, and Nat had taken her hand and not said sorry, not spoken cliches, but just held it until she felt better.
“I had a lovely evening,” Kate said, honestly.
Nat slipped her hand into Kate’s, and Kate let it happen, unable still to believe that she was walking hand-in-hand with Nat Lee.
“So did I,” said Nat. “In fact, I’d like to do this again.”
“We’re not even done with the first date,” Kate said. “And you’re already planning a second.”
She was teasing, joking, but Nat stopped and turned and suddenly they were face to face. And Kate was looking down into those eyes and almost disappearing into them and her heartbeat pulsed and her hands quivered and she could barely breathe.
“We’re not finished with this date?” Nat said, stepping a little closer. “Are you planning something else? Some other activity?”
The words were soft and sultry and Kate could feel her control slipping away, sliding out across the sidewalk and trickling into the gutter. Nat’s warmth was so close, those eyes were so close, those lips were too close. The night faded around them. The traffic noises dulled, the streetlights dimmed. All it would take would be one movement. One of them to move just an inch. But it couldn’t be her, it couldn’t be Kate. For all her controlling instincts, this was one thing that she just couldn’t start. She was still so afraid that it wasn’t what it seemed, that Nat was just waiting for her to make a move so that she could laugh, say that she’d never been interested, say that it was all some evil prank.
Nat untangled her fingers from Kate’s. Kate missed their touch. But the hand came up, stroked against her upper arm. And suddenly Kate knew. She knew this was real, knew that Nat felt exactly the same as she did. She allowed her eyes to half close, her head to start to tilt so that when Nat moved forwards she was ready and their lips met perfectly.
And that kiss. A swirling of heat and softness, a matching of lips and tongues and pulses that turned two entities into one creature. It went on and on and Kate had no sense of time, no sense of what was right or wrong, it was all simply this. Her world narrowed down to the sensation of Nat’s mouth on her own, to the feelings that began to rise inside her, to the wrenching of her breath in her lungs, the spinning of her head, and the soft warmth of Nat’s body as it began to press against hers. And to the growing want inside her, the desire to do more than this, the desire to surrender herself completely.
It was Nat who pulled away. Nat, flushed and disheveled and panting and smiling, her lips red and swollen, her eyes glazed.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for the perfect date. And the perfect ending to a perfect date.”
“Will I see you again?” Kate managed to croak, her brain too busy dealing with her body’s responses to worry about sounding like an idiot or sounding needy or desperate.
“Try and stop me,” Nat said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She was already turning and leaving before Kate realized that she hadn’t even known that they were in front of Nat’s building. She’d been so engrossed in her feelings, so busy thinking about Nat that she hadn’t known where they were. She watched as Nat walked up to the gates, watched as the gates opened and she stepped inside. And then Nat turned, outlined against the lights, and Kate knew she was smiling though she couldn’t see her face. Nat waved and then disappeared into the building.
Kate stood for long minutes watching the gates. Not wanting to move, not wanting to destroy anything or change anything, not wanting to break this moment. This perfect, glowing, frightening moment.
Chapter Twelve
When it came it wasn’t a letter at all. It was a phone call. Why she’d expected anything else, Kate had no clue. She was in the van, on her way back from a particularly lengthy shoot and exhausted. So she seriously considered not picking the phone up at all. But there was a parking space just down the block and she pulled in anyway.
She couldn’t quite beli
eve it. Not at first. She made the woman repeat herself twice before finally coming to her senses. She was smart enough at least not to give an immediate answer, and the woman seemed to understand.
“I’ll need to know by the end of next week.”
“Of course,” Kate promised. “Not a problem at all.”
She ended the call and leaned her head back against the seat not caring that the van was heating up, that she was starting to sweat. Maybe six months from now, she thought, she’d remember this heat fondly as she was shivering in a New York winter. New York. Her heart hammered, a grin stretched her face. She’d got it. Really got it. No more scratching around for freelance work, a steady paycheck, taxes deducted, healthcare included. And New York. The city that never slept.
Her fingers itched to call Nat. It was almost her first response. She wanted to call her, to tell her. She was still cautious. Three dates down, all good, all fun, no pressure, nothing more than goodnight kisses. Kisses that were becoming more heated to be sure, but nothing more serious. Nat had been truthful when she’d said she wanted to do this right. And Kate was beginning to trust her, to want to trust her, to want to see her night after night.
But this changed everything, of course. As much as her response was to want to call Nat and share her joy, this news meant that something was going to have to change. And she didn’t know what. Her in New York, Nat in LA. Nat had said they’d cross the bridge when it came, but they were now barrelling along the highway at top speed, the bridge right around the corner. Her chest tightened. Not a call, she decided. She needed to do this in person.
She reversed out of the parking space and began driving towards Nat’s apartment wondering what she wanted. This job meant everything to her. Or it had done. Now it would mean giving up Nat, or potentially giving her up, and she found that she was unwilling to do so.
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