by S. Ann Cole
“I’ve never seen you happy.” His benevolent voice coming from above, gave that impressionistic portrayal of a deity endowing unwanted compassion.
“And what’s that to you? Who the hell do you think you are?” I asked, finally allowing my eyes to drift up his slightly bowed legs snug in faded blue jeans, and up to his firmly built torso with abs that were too proud to lay abased beneath his white T-shirt that was shoved up to his elbows, and then up to his sculptured lips where my eyes lingered a bit before gliding over his perfect straight nose and finally settling on his captivating blues.
“I’d like to make you happy,” he persisted. A thick fluff of cloud moved away from the sun, leaving it right over Nelly’s head, crowning him with a halo, darkening his face and forcing its glare down at me so that I had to squint my eyes. From my point of view, he was a deity…
But I was the seed of a curst Diablo. “The only thing I’d like you to do, Nelly, is: Leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone.”
He stooped down and seated himself next to me under the tree, his feet drawn up with his arms resting casually on his knees. “I’ve tried. I’ve failed.”
“Try harder,” I encouraged. The sudden nearness of him triggered that unexplainable curling in my stomach.
Leaning over, he whispered against my ear, “I don’t want to.”
Sweet Lord…his breath…against my skin…
My brow lifted in a curve. “I can find another spot, you know.”
Nelly shrugged. “I’ll just follow you.”
“And I’ll call the cops.”
He laughed. “They’re easy to charm.”
My mouth twisted in disgust. “You think you’re all that and a bag o’ chips, don’t you? Swaggering around here like Solomon in all his glory, thinking that you’re better than others.”
He suddenly looked affronted and I immediately wished to recant my aspersion, because it wasn’t the truth. Nelly was anything but hubris, even though he had every right to be. People who possessed all things desired almost never possess the great treasure of humility. But Nelly, surprisingly, did. This, to my view, proclaimed that he was raised by wisdom-bearing parents or guardians, with ethical principles, virtuousness and integrity.
“Is that what people think?” he despairingly asked. “That I think I’m better than them?” He brought his knees to his chest and began trailing his index finger around in the sand, drawing concentric circles.
Oh no. What have I done?
“No,” I tried to placate. “No one thinks that. I’m sorry I said that.”
“If it didn’t appear so, then you wouldn’t have said it,” he replied, now drawing a hypnotic coil. “You said it. That means you think it.”
“I’m sorry, Nelly. I didn’t mean it.” I placed my hand on his, stopping him from trailing that hypnotic coil in the sand. It was…disturbing. “I’m just having a bad day, okay? Disregard what I said.” I just hate that I have feelings for you. I was hoping I could turn these unwanted feelings into hate. I’m truly sorry.
Accepting my apology, he made a slight nod. Then asked, “Why were you crying?”
Quickly removing my hand from his, I resumed sketching. “No reason.”
“You can tell me. I’m good with secrets,” he coaxed. Well, that’s perceivable, seeing that no one knows jack shit about you.
“No. Leave me alone now.”
“Please, Sadie.”
Oh heavens he’s relentless! “Dad’s beating my mom to a pulp, I tried to stop him and he knocked me and sent me away,” I said in a rush. “There now. You’ve heard why. Goodbye.”
“He hit you?” Nelly exclaimed. “Holy hell, are you okay? You’re not hurting?” He turned to me and began making a fuss. His hands were feverish on my face, my shoulders, and my arms, checking for bruises. But all I could think about was how searing his touches were. My palm that I’d placed on his hand moments ago still stung with an inexplicable electric current.
Swatting his hands away, I assured him, “No, I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Now leave me alone. Please.”
“Does he hit you often? I want to help,” he said solicitously. “Let me.”
“Nelly, piss off! Take your nose outta my life now,” I half-shouted in exasperation.
“I won’t ‘piss off’ and I won’t ‘leave you alone’. But I also won’t harry you anymore, for I’ve perceived your mood’s in the bitters.”
Shifting sidewards, he removed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “I will sit here and keep your company, though. Because you don’t deserve to be alone.” He gave life to a cigarette and then puffed it as he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep quiet. I’m only a blivit when I want to be.”
Contempt twisted my face. “That’s disgusting. Out it.” So much for ethical principles.
Nelly shook his head. “It’ll keep me quiet. It’s either this, or talking your ears off trying to persuade you to be my girl.”
“There’s no such chance, because I loathe anyone who smokes. Out it.”
He winked as he took another draw and blew it in my direction. “Make me an exception.”
“Out it,” I insisted.
“No.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I set down my sketch pad then launched at his hand, snatched it from his fingers and tossed it away. Then sparing not a second, I grabbed the box and twisted it, crushing them all.
Gazing at me through wide blue eyes, rimmed with long, dark lashes, he said, “You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?” Then gripped me by the waist and pulled me onto his lap. “Be mine,” he solicited.
Oh my…
“No. Let me go.” I tried and failed at extricating myself from his firm grasp.
“Why not?”
“Apart from you being unacceptably ugly with crossed eyes, a humongous black wart on your nose and hairs growing from your ears?”
He laughed out. “Yeah, apart from that.”
“Well, for one, you’re too old.”
“I’m twenty-one,” he stated simply, unperturbed.
“And I’m seventeen. I’m too young for you.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just perfect for me, Sadie.” He flexed his fingers on my hips and I started to protest again but he talked over me. “Age is but a number. Stop seeking impediments. We’ll have a platonic relationship until you’re ready. Patience is my best friend. I just…I just want you to be mine.”
“I’m nobody’s,” I whispered, even though the words, “Yes, I want to be yours” danced on my tongue. He was laboring at selling himself to me. And it made me feel special for once in my miserable life.
“Mine,” he insisted.
Oh God, I’m losing hold. “You have all those girls out there primped for you, and more than willing to give it up. They’re old enough. Go chivvy them and leave me alone.” I tried to wring free of his grasp again but he was much too strong.
“Banal. Not interested. A more mature and entertaining conversation is what I have with you than I do with any of them. Even when you’re shooing me,” he chuckled. “All they talk about is me taking them to bed. Hoping to ensnare me with some future pregnancy even if I’d donned ten condoms. I won’t be the one. Oh no, Sadie. I’ll only play into your hands. Let me.”
Pointing my finger at his nose, I said smoothly, “That’s not a very nice thing for you to say about the women of my neighborhood. I’ll tell them what you said.”
“It’s the truth.” He shrugged, unfazed. “Take me. Play me. Do whatever you want with me, Sadie. As long as you give yourself only to me, I’m yours.”
“And what about Tanya, Mrs. Forrest’s daughter? The rumors, are they true?”
Nelly rolled his eyes. “Falsity. We’re not together. I’m here with you. I want you.”
With my face inches away from his, I whispered, “The cover is alluring. The beginning may be enthralling. But there’s no culmination and no happy ending. So I sagely advise you to stop chaptering. I’m badly written.”
His nose met m
ine. “Give me the rights, and I’ll edit and rewrite. Polish you to perfection. But you won’t make best sellers, for you’ll never be published. You will be on my shelf only.”
Oh, don’t make me melt…
I allowed my finger to slide down his perfect straight nose, his lips, his chin to his neck, before grasping the ends of his pigtailed braids and twisting them in opposite directions around his throat. “If you don’t release your hold on me, I’ll choke you to death,” I threatened.
Nelly’s eyes widened momentarily at the sudden attack, then he smiled. “Oh god, I want you so bad.”
When I tightened the braids around his throat, he gasped. “This is the perfect way to die. By your hands, the only girl I yearn for.” He stubbornly refused to loosen his hold on me, instead he gripped me tighter.
“You don’t think I’ll do it?” I tested.
“I trust you,” he breathed.
“That’s not a clever thing to do, Nelly.” Leaning forward, I pressed a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and released the braids.
Grinning helplessly at me, he said, “I need to be more vigilant around you. You’re far too agile.”
Nelly shifted my legs so that I was straddling him, and I inhaled his woodsy scent. He was so…male. “So, you little cognac-eyed imp, will you be mine?”
No reply came from me. I just stared at him, at his beautiful face, his sinful blue eyes, his too-pink sculptured lips.
Yes, I wanted to be his. I liked him that much. The first person I’ve ever liked. Ever wanted.
The answer to his question must have been present in mine eyes, because he grasped my face between his palms and brought his lips to mine…
I jolted upright from my sleep. It was morning. The sun was bright in the sky, lighting up the room with its penetrative glares. My eyes darted around the room assessing who and where.
As my mind adjusted, I remembered that I was at Natalio’s loft and in his immense bed. A yawn tore my mouth open, and I spotted Natalio out on the balcony in deep conversation on his phone. He looked up and saw me, smiled, then frowned. Replying with a shy smile, I rested my palm on my forehead at the emergent headache and flopped back onto the bed. Flashes of what I’d just dreamt blinked before my eyes, they were there, and then they were gone.
I tried for shit to remember what my dream was about, but all I could come up with were obscured snaps of my mom, my dad and the community I’d grown up in.
My headache grew more severe and my heart triggered into ponderous beats. And soon my eyes closed and I was asleep again.
Chapter Eleven
My eyes flickered open, and I found myself gazing into warm blue irises. Natalio was sitting in a relaxed pose at the edge of the bed, in black T-shirt and slacks, watching me.
“I thought you’d never wake up,” he said quietly.
I rubbed my eyes and stretched. “What time is it?”
“Nigh noon,” he answered. “If I hadn’t seen you when you were briefly awake at seven this morning, I would’ve thought you were comatose. You’ve slept for fourteen hours.”
“I don’t know why, but when I woke this morning, I’d felt so darn tired as if I’d never slept at all. That dream felt so real…” I trailed off.
“What was your dream about?” He frowned. “You did have a troubled expression when you woke.”
“That’s the thing, I can’t remember it for shit. But my mind won’t let it go.”
He took my hand in his, then directed his gaze towards the balcony, but didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular. “Who’s Nelly?”
“What?”
“You kept murmuring the name ‘Nelly’ while you slept. Someone I don’t know about?” His gaze remained towards the balcony, his expression distraught.
“Someone I don’t know about. I was frickin’ dreaming, Natalio. And I told you, I don’t remember what about.”
Silence ensued as he circled his thumb in my lifeline. Abruptly, I sat up for I felt as if I’d been hit in the head with a brick. An acute headache pounced on me.
“Are you okay?” Natalio’s voice was etched with worry.
“Headache.”
“You need food,” he affirmed. “I had made you breakfast, but you just slept on.”
“I’m not hungry. I’ve been getting these headaches quite frequently since I’ve met you.”
“A cup of coffee?” he suggested, ignoring the latter part of my statement.
Only because I knew he’d be insistent, I countered, “Hot chocolate.”
He kissed my knuckles, and I noticed a platinum band with a solid gold line around the middle on his index finger. With a tilt of my head, I stared at it in scrutiny. It looked oddly familiar. Natalio took note of my sudden interest in his ring, but said nothing. Merely looked at me intently.
Maybe I’d seen it in a jewelry store or magazine or something, I shrugged.
Natalio sighed loudly as he rose to his feet, more like a sigh of frustration. “I’ll get your hot chocolate.”
I nodded in acknowledgment and leaned back on the headboard. What’s up with these pounding headaches every damn minute?
Natalio soon returned with a tray bearing blueberry muffins, a small bowl of fruits and a big black mug of hot chocolate. He made a beeline for the balcony, setting the tray down on a round cornice table that provided seating for four with rotund, black and white-designed chairs that oozed comfort. Their cozy appearance gave me the desire to curl myself up into one of them and sleep, crawling right back into my dreams.
Once he was back by the bedside, he held out his hand to me. “Up.”
Flinging the covers back, I climbed out of bed and took his hand. For several heartbeats, he just gazed at me passionately, though something poignant glinted in the depth of his eyes. He brushed his thumb across my lower lip and my breath hitched. My headache virtually forgotten.
Led by Natalio to the balcony, I was told to sit.
“I told you I wasn’t hungry,” I said, gesturing to the tray.
“You need aspirins for your headache. And I won’t permit you any pills on an empty stomach. So eat something.”
“You’re so commanding sometimes,” I complained. At times, he was controlling and other times, though rare, he was sycophantic. His personality was incomprehensible.
Natalio snorted. “I’m a wimp when it comes to you, Sadie. But I’ve learned to hold my grounds around you. You’re so swift and mischievous—” He stopped abruptly and a fleeting expression crossed his face. Unconsciously, he began twisting the ring around his finger. Something’s troubling him and I couldn’t tell what it was. And what was it about that ring?
“Eat,” he ordered softly, as he opened his laptop and began typing.
With a nod, I obeyed and opted for a blueberry muffin. After swallowing the first bite, I realized that I was indeed hungry. In record time, I’d eaten both muffins and all the fruits in the bowl, leaving behind the pineapple slices. I hated pineapples.
Natalio flashed me a wry grin. “I sure wouldn’t like see when you are hungry.”
He received an apologetic smile from me.
He stood up and disappeared into the room, returning shortly with a glass of water and two aspirins. “Now, you can take these.”
And that I did. It was amazing how smoothly things could go when you relax and allow the man to take charge.
Stuffed to the capacity, I leaned back in the most comfortable chair I’ve ever been in; looking out at the picturesque view granted from a balcony twenty-seven storeys high. It felt normal and right being around him, as if he’d always been a part of my life. His presence brought me comfort, and, for some reason, made me smile—about nothing in particular. Natalio closed down his laptop, came to stand behind me and began massaging my temples.
Boy, does he know how to make a woman relax. His long fingers massaged my forehead briefly, and then back to my temples. This was so relaxing and sleep-inducing, that I wondered idly if he’d been to a massage sch
ool or something. The way he did most things was so calculated and measured, composed, and carefully thought out. Such grants the understanding that whenever his anger surfaces, it was mainly because things were out of his control.
“Spend the day with me,” he suggested. “The night, too.”
“I planned on visiting my mother today,” I replied in all serenity. Though I wasn’t sure I’d want to leave these pampering arms.
“I thought you only visited her on Thursdays?”
My eyes flew open. “How do you know—” I stopped myself, knowing darn well that it would be a silly question, seeing that he’d already made me aware that he knew everything about me. Neither was I in the mood to rehash such conversation or trigger his perplexing side. “I spent all day Thursday out on the sea with a host of pompous moneybags, and on Friday and Saturday my mood was morose. So I never went to see her. I stayed at home all day and sewed.”
