by Melody Anne
The days passed quickly, March turning into April, then May, and suddenly it was June. I loved summer on the coast. I had a wonderful job at a fish house restaurant with other kids from school I’d become close to.
I earned tips every night and all I had to do was clean tables and take customers their drinks. Life couldn’t get any better than that. I found myself eagerly anticipating the last day of school, counting down the minutes. I was already working weekends, but that wasn’t enough. I wanted to work more hours, getting excited when my check was several hundred dollars.
For an incredibly poor kid, any number followed by zeroes was beyond exciting. In the summer I always seemed to have money. If I wanted a new shirt, I could buy it. There was freedom in a paycheck.
I was spending more time with Mason, not an overwhelming amount of time, but enough that I started to miss him when I didn’t see him for a few days. I found myself wanting to be with him, looking for excuses to call him, or walk up to him in school.
What was even better was my friends loved him, too. They though he was funny and sweet, and he had a car, which was perfect. Only a couple of the kids we hung out with had vehicles, so Mason’s car gave us a freedom we didn’t have before.
We all piled in his sports car and went to the beach, or the movies, or for a long drive. We sang and laughed, and had a great time together. Looking back, those moments were some of the happiest in my life.
I had friends, a boy I was starting to like, money, and I felt like I was holding the world in the palm of my hand. Could it really get any better than that? No. No, it couldn’t.
School ended for the year without a lot of fanfare, and I started my full-time schedule at work, but so did my friends. Mason showed up often, always making sure he was there when I got off work to see that I got home. I was falling for him without realizing it.
Our second week of summer, June nineteenth to be exact, he picked me up from work. It was dark and overcast, but warm. He drove to the lake and parked the car. I didn’t see anything unusual about this as we’d come to the lake often. It wasn’t like there were a lot of hang-out spots in our town.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to do this for a long time,” Mason said. I looked at him quizzically. What was he trying to figure out?
“Is everything okay?” I finally asked when he kept silent.
He stepped out of the car and quickly jogged around to my side. He helped me out, but instead of releasing me, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling my body tightly against his.
One thing I’d noticed about Mason in the months I’d known him was how powerful he was. His muscles bunched behind my back while he held me tight. I knew if there was a struggle, there would be no way I could get away from him. For some reason this made me feel secure, not frightened.
“I love you, Miranda. I can’t go a single minute without thinking about you. You come to me in my dreams, day and night. I find myself making up excuses to seek you out. Please say you’ll be mine,” he said while looking in my eyes.
Suddenly, the clouds broke, and the moon shone down on us, lighting his face for me to see the look of adoration in his eyes. His blue eyes were shining with confidence as he gazed at me, his mouth only inches from my own.
Was there any doubt I’d say anything other than yes? No. No doubt whatsoever.
“Yes,” I whispered, the words barely audible with how tight my throat was.
As if shocked I’d actually said yes, his mouth suddenly turned up in a brilliant smile, the power of his approval taking my breath away. I found, in that moment, I’d do anything to please him, anything he asked of me. He owned me, body and soul.
“I’ll never let you go,” he vowed, the words sounding romantic to my young ears, though I should have taken the words as a threat, as a noose. We were too young to make those decisions, too young to decide on a lifetime.
He lifted me off the ground and spun me around, my hair flying out behind me. I was in heaven and I needed the moment to never end. Finally, he set me back on my feet and only then did he bend his head forward, finally his lips touching mine.
Butterflies exploded in my stomach as our mouths pressed together. It was the perfect first kiss, the kind of moment I’d watched a million times in my favorite romantic movies. His tongue brushed against my bottom lip, and I willingly opened to him, though I didn’t know what I was doing. Instinct took over.
My hands lifted, my fingers gliding into his hair, pulling him closer. My stomach was burning, shooting sensations flowing from my core throughout my young body. I couldn’t explain what was happening to me, but it was good, so very good, and I knew I didn’t want it to stop.
I don’t know how long the two of us stood by that rock wall overlooking the serene lake, wrapped in each other’s arms, but it didn’t matter. Time ceased to exist, and all I knew was I loved him. I’d follow him anywhere.
He was mine and I was his, and nothing else mattered in my young mind. I didn’t think anything could ever change how I felt about him. I didn’t think any moment could become more perfect than that one.
I was wrong.
Chapter Seven
Now
I have no doubt who the man is who steps into the elevator with me. I remember him. It had only been one time, but it was a moment I’ve never been able to forget no matter how much I want to.
Even if I’d never seen him before, I’d know exactly who he is. It’s the raw power radiating off from him. It’s the way the air seems to be sucked straight out of the elevator the second he steps inside and the two metal doors close.
This is the boss. This is Mr. Alexander.
The very air heats as the elevator begins making its descent to the lobby. I feel as if I can’t breathe. I will swear under oath that steam rises from my damp clothes. I fidget as I withdraw into the back corner of the elevator. He’s facing forward, but then he turns.
I don’t want to look at him, but I find I don’t have a choice. Though no words are spoken, it’s almost as if a command has been issued. He’s silently telling me to look at him. My chin slowly rises as my eyes walk their way up his masculine body.
Never in my life have I reacted like this to another man. I’m married! Of course I’ve noticed good-looking men before. I’m human. To say a married person doesn’t notice the beauty in other people the second they say I do, is ridiculous. But this is so much more than that.
This is unexplainable.
My eyes meet his. I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he boldly gazes at me — just as he’d done once before. His eyes meet mine, wanting me to know he sees me. Then they slowly travel down my body. It’s as if his hands are touching me instead of his eyes. He pointedly takes a moment to glance at my bare ring finger. I haven’t worn my wedding band in years. I don’t like jewelry. Still, I rub my thumb over the underside of my finger as if searching for it, as if needing that protection.
I know this man is powerful, know I shouldn’t be alone with him. It’s as if time has stopped. Why is this ride taking so long? I want to run more than I did when I stepped into that luxurious lobby. Looking at this man is a dangerous path I have no right walking.
His eyes travel up my body and I shiver. My stomach quivers, my core heats. My breasts are suddenly tight and my nipples feel as if they’re on fire. Why can’t I feel that when Mason looks at me? Maybe because he doesn’t look at me anymore. Not the way this man is.
I try to form words, try to break this awful tension, try to do anything other than tremble as he mentally undresses me. My breathing deepens, more air is sucked out of the small space that seems to be shrinking by the second.
The lights flicker and the music stops. Then the elevator halts. A red light goes on, making the area even more intimate. I suck in a breath that doesn’t come back out. Mr. Alexander doesn’t so much as twitch at our predicament.
Not
hing is said for several agonizing moments. Then he finally moves. Part of me is almost disappointed when he turns away and goes to a panel, opening it. He picks up a phone.
He speaks a few soft words. The command in his voice is so damn delicious. Another shudder wracks my body. I visibly shake as I hold tightly to the bars on the wall of the elevator. I pray the car will start moving again. I can barely stand being in this place with him without him being mine. I hate that thought as soon as I have it.
“The power went out,” Mr. Alexander says. I want to tell him that’s more than obvious but I don’t think he’ll appreciate my nervous sarcasm. Besides, I’m not sure I can even find my voice. I murmur something that isn’t intelligible. I feel like such a fool. I clear my throat.
“Do they have any idea how long?” I finally ask. My voice is shaky, but at least the words come out. I don’t feel quite so foolish.
He smiles. He puts the phone back, and his attention is once again focused solely on me. He takes a step in my direction and then another. I need to stop this. I need to tell him I’m married; we aren’t going to have some lucid tryst in an elevator.
Isn’t that the fantasy of many women? Isn’t it a dream we’ve all had? Some sexy stranger gets stranded in an elevator with you and rips off your clothes, unable to stop himself from ravishing your body. It sounds like pure heaven.
He stops, our bodies only inches apart. I can’t look him in the eyes any longer. My chin goes down. I breathe so heavy it’s the only sound in the small space. I need to get out of there, and fast, before I do something foolish like launch myself into his strong arms.
His fingers are suddenly on my chin, and he’s raising it, forcing me to look at him. This is wrong, so very wrong. And yet I do nothing to stop it.
“I was wondering . . .” he whispers and my entire body shakes. I can’t say a word for several long heartbeats.
“Wondering?” I finally ask. I didn’t try to add more words. It wouldn’t have done me any good. My throat feels as if it has been stuffed with cotton balls.
“If our first meeting was a fluke,” he tells me. “Or if I’d imagined it.”
I gulp. I don’t know how to respond to him so I say nothing. I’d wondered the same thing, wondered why I’ve reacted to him the way I have.
“It’s good to see you again, Miranda,” he says, the words purring out, causing my legs to clench together. He knows my name, remembers me as I remember him. I’m shocked by this; I don’t know what to say or how to respond. “I’m Kaden,” he finishes.
I want to tell him it’s nice to see him again, or give some flippant hello and laugh at our situation. There’s nothing inside of me that wants to laugh though. I’m burning up. I’m in a state of shock. I’m in a situation I’ve never imagined myself in.
“Nothing to say?” he asks. His fingers still hold my chin, but he reaches one sexy finger up to my cheek and caresses it. Moisture beads on my forehead. I thought I had overheated in the gym. That’s nothing compared to what I feel in this moment.
My clothes are too tight. I want to rip them away. That’s an odd thought. But I can’t breathe. He takes all the oxygen in the room. He moves a tiny bit closer, his body brushing against mine. My heart thunders.
“I noticed you in the gym,” he tells me. He looks down my body though there isn’t much space between us. He can practically see through my clothes, can envision every inch of me. It’s an oddly appealing thought. “You chose an interesting outfit to work out in.”
“I . . . uh . . . I thought I was alone,” I say. I don’t know what else to say. I shake my head, which is hard to do with his fingers still holding my chin. But it helps to clear the fog. “I didn’t realize there was a gym until I got to work today, and I wanted to get some cardio,” I finally finish.
He doesn’t tell me where he was when he saw me, and I don’t press him to say more. I have a feeling a person doesn’t press this man. I know nothing about him, but one word comes to mind as our bodies are practically entwined . . . power. This man has it in spades. This man can have whatever he wants.
“There are many ways to get cardio,” he says with a small smirk that makes him that much more intriguing. “And with a lot more appropriate clothing.”
I’m not sure what that means. I have a good idea, but I fight this attraction between us. I need to tell him to back up, to let go of me. But his finger again traces my cheek and another shudder passes through me; I can’t form words.
He’s leaning forward. He’s going to kiss me. I know I should stop him. He doesn’t know me, doesn’t know I can’t kiss him, can’t do anything with him. I need to tell him I’m not available. But I can’t stop him.
As the heat of his breath sears my slightly parted lips, the elevator jerks, the lights flash on, and then we are moving.
His eyes narrow the tiniest bit as if he doesn’t appreciate the interruption. A slow shiver travels up my spine. I wouldn’t want to be a person who disappoints this man. That wouldn’t be a good idea on the best of days.
“Have a drink with me,” he says. It isn’t a question. It’s a demand.
He steps away from me as we reach the bottom floor. The doors open. Several people are in the lobby, looking worried as one of the security guards holds the doors so they won’t shut again.
“We’re very sorry, Mr. Alexander. It took a moment for the generator to kick on and get the elevator moving.”
Mr. Alexander turns to the man and the spell between us is broken. Now is the time to run. I don’t hesitate as I slip behind him, sneaking into the night before he knows I’m gone.
If I see him again, I’ll calmly explain I won’t be getting drinks with him. I’ll also make sure I don’t get stuck in elevators with him. That means no more after-hour workouts. If I want to get one in, I’ll have to do it on my lunch break or before my shift begins. I won’t put myself that close to temptation again.
This is the first time I’ve been tempted to cheat, to fall into the arms of another man. He’s dangerous. I have no doubt about it. If my marriage was stronger I still would’ve felt some attraction to this man. But I’d have put him in his place, told him he was acting inappropriately. The thing is, though, my marriage is far from secure. I should quit my job right this minute.
But I don’t. This may be my biggest mistake yet.
Chapter Eight
Then and Now
Kaden Alexander doesn’t follow me from the building as I rush through the rain. The fates are with me as the final people at a bus stop step inside. I jump on before the doors can close, not looking back at the offices. I’m too afraid I’ll see him standing there, too afraid I’ll jump off the bus and run back to him. Instead, I sit and think about Mason . . .
After the night Mason and I officially became a couple, we were inseparable. He was at my door daily, picking me up and taking me around town. We hung out with my friends, but slowly, it became less and less. In time, it became just the two of us in our own little world.
I went to work and he was there at the end of my shift. On my days off he took me on fun adventures. It was Mason and me all summer. I was falling in love with him, irrevocably in love. I hadn’t planned it, didn’t want. But wasn’t that the way love happened? It snuck up on a person like a silent wrecking ball and by the time it hit, the damage was too great to fight against it.
Maybe part of his appeal was how he anticipated my needs. Whatever I wanted he was more than willing to give. So was I falling in love with him, or was I falling in love with what he did for me? Could a sixteen year old even fall in love? At that age I would’ve emphatically said yes. It might not be a mature love, though. We didn’t have enough life experiences at that age to know what we truly needed and wanted.
At what age did we know? Who could answer that? We’re all different. I thought it was probably not the same from one person to another.
I knew for sure I was hooked, and there was no chance I wanted to be cast back to the sea. I belonged to Mason, and I thought that was because I knew he belonged to me.
He was opposite of me in every way, and somehow that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. The world revolved around us and our epic love affair. It had to last forever, didn’t it? Of course it did. We were no different than Romeo and Juliet. If we couldn’t be together, life would be over.
Ah, the tragedies of the young. I wish I was sixteen again. I wish I could feel what I felt in those early days. I wish I could take back my innocence, my bravery, myself. I’ve made so many mistakes. Will I be forgiven? I don’t know.
The bus arrives a block from my home and I hop off. I walk slowly even though the rain hasn’t let up. I’m not ready to go inside my house, to face the domestic world I’m not sure I want anymore.
Tears burn in my eyes as I approach the perfectly suitable grey house. It’s adorable. I was so excited to own my first home. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Mason.
But the motivation he had as a teenager hasn’t carried into adulthood. He’s much more relaxed now, never easily excited. He lives day by day, mellow . . . boring.
Is it truly him who has changed, or is it me? I don’t know. I’m unsure. Maybe we both changed, and maybe neither of us want to admit it. The front door is unlocked. I have little choice but to turn the knob and step inside.
I’ve wanted to do a lot of running today. The desire is still inside me, making me jumpy, achy, and unbearably lonely. I don’t know what I want. Should I flee? Should I give up the life I thought I’d always want? Will I have regrets if I do?
Where will I go?
As much as I don’t want the next thought to come to mind, that’s exactly what it does: I’ll run back to Kaden and take him up on that drink . . . and that look in his eyes.
Instead of doing that, I hang my head and open my door. I’m responsible. I’ll do what I have to do. The house is much darker when I step inside. The music in Mason’s art studio blares louder than normal.
