The bedroom door opened. Nicole peeked out, and began holding the wall to walk down the hall. He recognized the sweater. She wore that on our first date.
“Why didn’t you tell me I looked so bad.”
You never look bad. “Justin is an idiot. Don’t pay attention to anything he says.” It was the first time they had spoken in days.
“It is true you know. It may help me remember. Maybe if I saw you on stage…I went to the bar. I didn’t remember anything, but maybe…maybe if I heard you play together…I remembered that song you sang to me, and I was in a coma. I hate to ask you anything but please, please do it. It may help me.”
“It’s not a part of my world anymore.”
“But why? Don’t you love it? Please, Dylan. I really want to remember.”
I just want to forget. “Fine. Just one night. One night.” He walked down the hall and closed the door to his room leaning up against it. I just want to forget.
Chapter 45
*Dylan*
Brad called. He had to work late, so Dylan decided to take Nicole out for a quick bite.
Dylan knew Brad had talked to Nicole about the pretend engagement, but neither Dylan nor Nicole had acknowledged it to one another. Dylan still felt awkward about the whole situation. He had to pretend to be engaged to the woman he had to pretend he wasn’t in love with. He didn’t want to send any mixed signals so he tried to be as distant as he could, but he knew she hadn’t eaten.
“This is not a date, so don’t read anything into it. I heard they have good music and I thought we could check them out. I’m going to grab a few drinks and a bite to eat and thought maybe you would like to get out of the house. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”
“You mean you’re not going to propose?” she joked.
“You understand that’s just to help get the money to find Jess and hunt Steve, right? It’s just while we’re with my folks.”
“I know, Brad told me. I was just playing around. Don’t worry. I don’t want to marry you either. You’re kind of an ass, but I am starving.”
“I’m sorry about that Nicole, I know I screwed up. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Yeah, I never wanted to speak to you again, but apparently I don’t have any choice. We’re getting married, right? Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen. Let’s pretend none of it happened. Pretend I never ran away, pretend you didn’t humiliate me, pretend I still don’t hate you and you don’t find me repulsive. When we find my Jess, we can go our separate ways and never see each other again.”
At the restaurant, the lights were low. The music played loud as they entered—a Spanish ballad, with a distinct beat. The smell of Hispanic food filled the air. The grilled onions, the Asada, and the fresh cilantro, smelled so good. The bright orange and bold colors were spread in patterns everywhere and live plants gave the place a tropical feel.
Nicole’s attention drifted to a couple dancing. Dylan turned to see what she focused on. The couple danced with passion, and feeling. Nicole stared for a moment.
“Dylan, can we sit by the dance floor? I want to watch.”
“Sure, how about here?” Dylan loved to see her excitement. Even before her trauma Nicole had this freshness about her, this thirst for life. She appreciated the little things. She wasn’t stale and stuffy like most girls who were as beautiful as her. And now, she was experiencing life again. The quality he loved about her was amplified. He held back his smile, still trying to seem cold.
“What kind of dance is that?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.
“I’m not sure. I know it’s not Salsa or Merengue. It’s definitely not Samba. I have no idea.”
The couple got off the dance floor, and as they passed Nicole’s table, she called them over.
“Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you that was beautiful! What kind of dance is that?”
“It’s called the Bachata. It’s from the Dominican Republic. We’re teaching a class at nine. You should join us. It’s half price if you have a meal here.”
“I would love to, but because of an accident, my legs don’t work too well.”
“That’s okay. He looks strong. Just lean on him. He’ll hold you up.” The woman nodded
to Dylan. “You’ll hold her up right? We change partners, but I’ll keep you together so you will feel more comfortable.”
“Really? You think I could do it?”
“Oh yeah, you’ll have fun!”
“Dylan?”
“I don’t know. I just came in for a few drinks. Besides you hate me, right?”
“Dylan, you were always the one encouraging me to try to overcome this handicap. Let me try. I don’t want to dance with you either, but I’d rather not have to dance with a stranger- – especially since I can’t walk. You owe me one. I won’t hate you anymore.” Her eyes lit up. God she was so hard to say no to.
“Yeah, let her try. It’ll be only twenty dollars, and you’ll have fun.”
When the waitress brought the food, she revealed that the couple on the floor was famous and had taught all over the world. “That is Gringito and Gata, from the Bachata Congress in DC. You should definitely take the class.”
After dinner, Dylan took Nicole’s hand and led her to the dance floor, trying to help camouflage that she had trouble walking.
“The Bachata is a dance of romance, a dance of passion,” Gringito, the instructor began. “Gentlemen, pull your partner in close and gently slide your hand down her face, getting lost in her eyes.”
Dylan looked around. The other students were actually doing it as if building the attitude they needed to look authentic on the dance floor. He brought Nicole to him.
“Good, that is great. Now slowly slide your leg in between hers, bringing her legs into a lunge around yours.”
Dylan shook his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Let’s just watch.” He took Nicole’s hand and began to lead her off the dance floor.
“Where are you going? You promised the young lady. Don’t be shy. Come on.” The woman waited until Dylan and Nicole were in position to signal Gringito could continue. “Okay now, holding her tightly, passionately move your hips together, making a circle to the music.”
Dylan stopped again. “This is definitely not a good idea.”
“Shh,” Nicole whispered. “Pay attention.”
“Then slowly plié as you gently release her body into a back bend. Ladies, press your pelvis toward his, using his leg as an anchor. Drop back. Good, Good. Now gentlemen, bring her up ever so slowly, ever so passionately as you trace her body with your hand.”
As Dylan held Nicole the way the instructor suggested, he tried to act aloof but the pounding beat faster in his chest as her delicate frame pressed against him.
With his leg in between her legs, he could easily control her, turning her, dipping her, lifting her against his body. He could control her every move. Despite the loss of strength in her legs, her hips worked more than fine. They gyrated and grinded to the music the way the teachers instructed. Her sensuality unveiled.
“Now turn her around.”
He turned her body so her hips moved in front of him and he felt her tight bottom against his jeans. Could she feel his arousal? Shit, this is not good.
The instructor had him turn her back to face him. What did Nicole’s coy smile mean? Did she feel his erection? Did she like the way it felt to be in his arms in such a raw dance?
“Women, wrap your hands around the man’s neck, and continue to move your hips together like the ocean.”
Smooth, slow, passionate. This isn’t a dance. It’s more like dry sex on the dance floor. What if they had changed partners? He would kill someone if they touched Nicole like this.
The dance traveled forward, backward and to the sides
with a sensual beauty as their bodies moved together. The lesson ended, but he held her for a moment longer, just to feel her in his arms one last time. She felt as if she belonged there. He didn’t want to let her go.
Another Bachata played and their bodies began to move together. He closed his eyes, their cheeks brushing against each other as they danced. Finally the music changed, and they broke apart from each other. Her eyes sparkled and the smile on her face radiated throughout the room.
He took a deep breath in, wondering how he could fall asleep with her in the next room.
“I danced. You were right. I danced.”
“You did, Nicole, and I must say you were pretty amazing.”
“I feel like I can do anything! You make me feel like I can do anything,”
“You can, baby, I mean Nicole, you can do anything!” He gazed at her for a moment and quickly realized he had to do something to take his mind off dancing with her. “So you don’t hate me anymore?”
“I don’t know, maybe just a little bit.” Another Bachata played. She glanced up at him.
“No, no more dancing.” We gotta get out of here quick. He checked his watch. “I’ve got an idea, now that you feel invincible.”
Dylan pulled his car into the shooting range. She had never fired a gun before. “I think this will be a good one for you.” He felt the weight of the gun in his hand. They went into a small hall. Even with the headphones to muffle the sound, the explosions from the pistols and rifles echoed. They entered a room lined with windows, and at the end of each lane, a target.
She had been holding his arm for support as they walked through the hallway. She let go and held on to the window ledge.
“You’re going to have to let go of that and hold this.” Dylan smiled exhibiting the pistol.
“I won’t be able to stand by myself. My legs are tired.”
“You can lean on me.” He handed her the gun, then stood right behind her body so their bodies were almost one. He gently pulled her hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck. He wanted to taste it, but he remembered he had to stay focused. Slowly his hands slid down her arms enjoying each moment of contact. He guided her hands right in front of him.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
He never thought teaching someone to shoot a gun could be so stimulating. He knew he had to pretend he wasn’t still attracted to her but it was so hard.
“Aim, you want to look… yeah, just like that. You can move this lever to bring the target closer and push it further away. Steady. Now shoot.” He cupped his hands over hers, not only to help guide the bullet but also to absorb some of the kick until she got used to it.
“I did it, I hit the person.” After a few shots, he wrapped his arms around her waist and allowed her to take the shots by herself. It’ll be good if she can shoot a gun. She needs to be able to protect herself. He tried to convince himself she needed to learn for her protection, even though the feeling of having her in his arms gave him pleasure.
“Great job, look at you. You’re a pro!” The corners of his lips lifted. She was doing it to him again. Everything else blurred. All he knew was that she was in his arms and he never wanted to let her go. Then he realized what he was doing and quickly tried to get some composure.
“We’d better go. You did great, Nicole. A few more lessons and we will get you your own gun.”
When they got to the house, Brad still hadn’t gotten home from the bar. Wine? No! “Would you like some hot chocolate?” Dylan offered.
“That sounds perfect.”
Dylan realized he had to start talking about Brad. He didn’t want to get lost in her eyes.
“Brad is amazing isn’t he?” he began awkwardly.
“You both are. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He tapped his fingers on the mug. She did deserve someone like Brad, but it was hard to advocate for him when the truth was Dylan realized he was still not over her…at all.
“How did you meet him?”
“In high school. I never would have passed without him. He’s such a brain. I was getting kicked off the football team because of my grades. I don’t know how he did it, but I went from failing to being on the honor roll. That was a first. But by that time my folks had stopped looking at my report cards, so I think Brad was the only one who knew about it.” He laughed.
“He seems like a good friend.”
“Yeah, even with all the crap going on in his family, he never let me down. I let him down. I was an idiot. I don’t know why he believed in me.”
“What crap?”
“High school was a really hard time for him. His dad was killed in a car accident. It was really bad. And his mom, let’s just say he had to grow up way too young. His older sister had moved far away so he had to keep it all together. I remember when he got the life insurance settlement. Most kids graduating from school would have blown it in a year or two, but he bought the bar. It was a dive when he bought it. He really fixed it up nice. He wanted to make sure he could take care of his mom. Her nurses were crazy expensive.”
“I didn’t know it was his. I thought he was the manager.”
“Nope, that’s his baby. You know Brad. He doesn’t talk about himself much. He figured he could work nights while he went to college, but I kinda screwed that all up for him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was an idiot. I did something really stupid and he took the rap for me so I wouldn’t go to jail. He was a perfect kid and his mom was dying so he got probation, but it screwed up his scholarship. He never told anyone. He has never complained, but…I know I fucked up his life. He’s a good guy, Nicole. I know he’ll be good for you. I’m going to hunt this animal Steve. I have no idea how long it will take. I have no idea what is going to happen. I just know I won’t be around. Brad loves you. He really loves you. And I know he’ll make you happy.” His finger played with the rim of the empty mug. It was true, but it didn’t make it any easier.
“I better get to bed.” Dylan stood up from the table. He hated to think about it. “I almost forgot, Nicole. Brad and I have some really important things to do early in the day so you’ll be home alone for a little while. Remember that guy Steve is really dangerous, so don’t answer the door. I’m sure you’ll be fine, but if you feel like you are in danger, call 911, my cell. Promise you won’t go anywhere.”
“I promise. I learned my lesson.”
“You really did good tonight. I’m proud of you.” He watched Nicole struggling to get up. “Do you need some help?”
“I’ll be fine, thank you. Goodnight, Dylan.”
“Nicole, please don’t tell Brad I told you any of this. He hates talking about losing his folks and all.”
“I won’t. I won’t say anything.” She began walking to her room and her legs gave out. Dylan picked her up in his arms. She looked into his eyes. “Dylan, thank you for everything. I really had a wonderful time.”
He put her down next to her bed. “Me too, Nicole.” He quickly ducked out of the room.
Chapter 46
*Nicole*
I woke up. The house was silent. I lay in bed a few moments, feeling the covers wrapped around me—so warm, yet I decided I would begin my day. I shuffled my way to the kitchen. No one was home, but I could smell a fresh pot of coffee on. The sugar and an empty coffee mug sat on the counter ready for me to enjoy a warm cup. I took deliberate steps toward the refrigerator and poured in some milk. I stirred in the sugar, and brought the mug to the table to take a sip.
“Um, perfect.” On the table, I found a box of donuts and a note reminding me that Brad and Dylan would be home late afternoon and to call if I needed anything. As I sipped the coffee, I closed my eyes and smiled. I danced last night. I disappeared into the music. I danced. The music rang in my ears, and
I could feel his embrace. I wiggled in the chair as if reliving the moment. I actually danced!
I thought back to the time not long ago when I couldn’t even support myself for a minute. And only a little over month ago, I took my first steps with my two angels. They encouraged me every step in between them, like a child and her parents.
I wanted to thank them. I wanted somehow to let them know how much I appreciated every sacrifice they had made for me. I couldn’t imagine waking up in that hospital bed alone. I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to celebrate life, regaining strength and the power of friendship. I held the warm cup in my hand, but how?
I searched around. The pantry and fridge were full. There were onions. I knew I had used these before, and garlic. I grabbed them, putting them on the table. I pushed a chair over to the cabinet, climbed onto it, holding on to the closet for support, and grabbed a bottle of wine from the top shelf, holding on to the closet for support. Standing up on the chair had been difficult but getting down seemed impossible. My legs weren’t strong enough for me to bend them with all my weight and slowly lower myself down.
“God this was stupid. What was I thinking?” I stood on the chair for a few minutes and realized I either had to just make myself fall or hold on to the closet and lower myself down with my arms. I didn’t think I had the strength for that either. I had been doing pull ups, but Dylan did most of the work. I leaned forward, holding the shelf of the closet, praying it wouldn’t collapse on me. I held on tight and my biceps burned as I gently lowered myself to the floor. I made it! I was so proud of myself! I was getting stronger every day. I felt invincible!
I went to the refrigerator and pulled out the butter, cilantro, cream, grape tomatoes and cheeses and grabbed a bag of frozen shrimp from the freezer. I had no idea what I was doing but for some reason this concoction sounded good. I wanted to surprise Dylan and Bradley with a nice meal. I didn’t know if I could cook, but it seemed some kind of inspiration guided me.
Obsession and Sacrifice (Alaska #2) Page 17
