I stole a quick glance at Sydney, and saw so much love and pride on her face that I smiled. The two of them really came full circle in their lives. Both had survived horrifying things, suffered through their post-traumatic stress, and somehow came out the other side happy and enjoying life. I was so proud of them.
They played song after song, some new like Gary Clark, Jr., others were old blues standards by Muddy Waters and Albert King. All of them sounded fantastic. By the end of their last set, Jensen looked tired, but genuinely happy. Everybody got up from our table to leave, but I decided to loiter around and keep Sydney company while the band tore down the equipment.
"He sounded great Syd," I told her with a smile as I moved to the seat across from her.
"I'm so proud of him, David," she said with a gentle smile. "Can you believe how far he's come?"
"I can." I nodded. It was amazing how much progress he had made in just a few months. He and I spent hours together during his therapy sessions. We still met every Wednesday to talk, but somewhere along the line the therapy had morphed into just hanging out as friends. Not that we still didn't talk about things that were bothering him, but now I was just as likely to talk about my own problems when we were together. "He's worked really hard to get to this point."
"I love seeing him happy." She looked over at her husband, her eyes soft and filled with affection. Her eyes suddenly came back to look at me with a thoughtful expression. "Are you happy, David?"
The question caught me off guard, and I didn't know how to answer her, which was ridiculous for such a simple question. Was I happy? I used to think so not that long ago, but now I really didn't know. I think I was content with my life, and I guess that would have to be close enough. "Sure I am, Sydney," I answered her automatically, realizing with a guilty jolt that I had been lying to the people I cared about all day today.
"It took you an awfully long to time to answer that question, don't you think?" she asked with a concerned furrow of her brow.
I shrugged in response. "My life is pretty complicated right now."
"No," she elaborated, "your life is lonely."
"I'm not lonely," I denied immediately, even though I knew I was digging a hole here. "I have plenty of friends and my family. Why would I be lonely?"
She stared back at me in disbelief. "Deluded much?" she asked sarcastically.
"Look Syd," I said as I leaned toward her, "is my life what I thought it was going to be? No. However, it is what it is. I don't have the luxury of dwelling on the past and wondering what could have been anymore. I've let it go and moved on the only way I know how."
"Bullshit," she said, calling me out. "You haven't moved on from squat. You know it, and I know it. Fucking every woman you can, and refusing even to try to have a relationship with any of them isn't moving on, it's giving up."
I stared back at her annoyed expression for a moment, unsure what to say after that. I know I had given up, but she didn't know my secret either. She didn't know the pain I had gone through or the utter betrayal of trust I had experienced. There was no going back to the man I used to be. The one who trusted and placed their faith in someone who, in hindsight, never felt the same way I did. A deep weary sadness came over me, and I had to pull my eyes away from Sydney's concerned face.
"Jensen told me about the girl you saw today."
I met her eyes again, starting to feel annoyed myself now. "What about it?"
"He said you seemed to have an instant connection with her." She cocked her head as she looked at me. "Why didn't you get her name or her number? Why won't you give someone a chance to be close to you?"
"I...I just can't. Alright?" I asked in exasperation. "Can we just drop this?"
"Do you want to be alone for the rest of your life?"
"What would you say if I said yes?"
"I'd call you a liar," she answered immediately. "You need to get past this, or you'll never be happy."
I didn't know what else to say, so I just sat there and watched Jensen finish putting his equipment away. I didn't think getting past this was even possible, and talking about it was pointless and depressing. I liked my delusions better. Pretending I was happy was better than letting someone destroy my heart again.
When Jensen came up to us to leave, I was grateful that Sydney hadn't pushed me about it anymore. I gave him a congratulatory hug and said good-bye, ignoring the look on Syd's face that said she wasn't done with this subject by a long shot. Jensen noticed the tension between us, but said nothing as he looked back and forth between us with a worried expression. I'm sure he'd get an earful about it in the car on the way home. I hugged Syd stiffly and left without another word.
**********
I dreamed of gorgeous green eyes, and light brown hair fanned out across my pillow. I dreamed of long toned legs wrapped around my waist, and my teeth sinking into the soft flesh of one perfect breast with just enough pressure to leave my mark on her flawless skin. I dreamed of my cock sliding into warm velvet perfection, the tightness making me gasp from the unexpected pleasure.
So when I woke up at five o'clock in the morning, I was left with blue balls and annoyance. There was only one way to banish my irritation and out of control libido. I needed a good long run, even if I was still stiff and sore from the race yesterday. Ordinarily, I would take a few days off to rest, but I was so annoyed with myself that I didn't care. It would be a great distraction from my apparent obsession with this Natalie that I had only seen for a moment and would never see again.
This wasn't like me. I didn't obsess over anything. I didn't have sex dreams about a woman I couldn't have. I was about control. I always kept my distance from any emotional connection with a woman, but somehow she had wormed her way into my head. I had to exercise this damn demon. Now.
I climbed out of bed and threw on a long-sleeve athletic shirt and pants, then pulled on a reflective jacket, so I wouldn't get hit by a car in the streets this early in the morning. I slipped out the front door of my 1920s craftsman bungalow and hurried down the sidewalk out into the darkness. It was pretty chilly out, and I could see my breath, but I knew I'd warm up quickly once I started running. I took off down the empty street at an easy pace, not wanting to go too crazy after yesterday. It didn't take long for my brain to shut off, and the peace I always got from running came over me. It was just what I needed, and by the time I got back home, I had gotten a good five miles in and felt relaxed and centered.
I finished stretching and was just walking into my bedroom, peeling my sweaty clothes off to shower, when my phone rang. I glance over to see that work was calling and answered immediately.
"This is David."
"Hi, David," a female voice spoke. "I'm sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I'm kind of in a jam." It was my supervisor, Melinda.
"What do you need?" I asked. Melinda was a great boss and only called if she was desperate.
"Could you work today?" Her voice was apologetic. "Lyndsey called in sick, and I need the coverage desperately."
"That's not a problem," I answered immediately. "Give me an hour and I'll be there." What better distraction after my run then going to work? I needed something to throw myself into so my head wouldn't conjure up more fantasies about that woman.
"Thanks, David," she said. "You've really helped me out of a tight spot."
"It's no problem," I assured her. "I didn't have any plans anyway. I'll be there as soon as I can." She thanked me again before we ended the call. I showered quickly, anxious to get to work. I loved my job. Being a psych nurse was a passion for me. It had been ever since my first psych rotation in nursing school. I'd always felt like it was what I was meant to do with my life.
I was out of the shower, dressed, and out the door by six thirty. I got to the hospital and clocked in just before seven. The morning was uneventful for a change. All the patients were doing well. I passed out meds and checked on all my patients. Everyone was calm, and no one needed restrained, which I hated to have to do, and I
went to lunch early at eleven or so. I made my way down to the cafeteria with my latest fantasy novel. I got a burger and fries then found a table out of the way, so I could be alone. I finished my food quickly, and had a good twenty minutes to get some quality reading time in before heading back up to the psych unit.
I was well and truly immersed in my book when I heard a sweet female voice say "Excuse me." I looked up from my book with a smile, expecting to decline politely whatever it was they wanted. My smile slipped from my lips as shock came over me. Natalie, the woman from the race yesterday, was standing next to my chair with uncertainty in her gorgeous green eyes and a smile on her face. She looked just as beautiful as I remembered.
"Hi," she said. "Remember me?"
Chapter Three
Natalie
"This is completely unacceptable," my mother ranted as she paced in the surgery waiting room. "I can't believe he wasn't taken back until almost ten. His scheduled time was at nine."
"Mom," I pleaded, "please sit down. Ford is not the only patient here, you know. Sometimes things run late. It's not that big of a deal."
"Not that big of a deal?" she asked, her voice rising higher. "Your father has been donating to this hospital for years. You'd think that would at least get his son some courtesy!"
The other people in the waiting room were staring at us now. I had a sudden urge to crawl under the uncomfortable chair I was sitting in. I was almost wishing that I was the one having surgery instead of Ford, just so I wouldn't have to deal with Mom.
"Mom," I whispered. "Could you please sit down? You're making a scene." She glanced around like she had just realized we weren't the only people here. The only thing Victoria Spencer cared about more than our family being treated the way she thought we deserved was appearances. She finally sat down next to me with a huff.
Once again, she was immaculately dressed in a green cashmere sweater and gray slacks. I was wearing jeans and a casual v-neck red sweater with my tall brown boots. I noticed Mom's disapproving looks, but she said nothing. She knew better than to harass me about my wardrobe choices anymore. This was one of the few times I took after my father and brother. I wore what I wanted, and didn't care what Mom thought. She had learned years ago to stop bothering me about it, when I told her repeatedly that I didn't care what she thought about my clothes. I'd wear whatever the hell I wanted. She always seemed surprised when my stubborn side emerged occasionally. When I was serious about something that I believed in, she usually dropped it and let me do what I wanted.
"How much longer is this going to take?" Mom asked quietly. "It's been almost an hour now. Shouldn't we have heard something by now?"
"This isn't a fast-food restaurant, Mom," I blurted out in irritation. "You can't expect them to fix a broken foot that fast. It will take how long it takes."
"Natalie," she said with disapproval and a hint of hurt in her eyes. "There is no reason for you to talk to me that way. I'm just worried about your brother."
"I'm sorry, Mom," I apologized. "I'm worried too." No matter the reason, surgery was always a big deal. Anything could happen, and people had died having minor surgery before. Of course, Ford was a strong healthy man, and the chances were slim, but it was hard not to worry.
Mom looked mollified, and she was quiet for a few minutes. I was beginning to think that she was done complaining until she started in again about how cold it was in here.
"I'm going to get some coffee," I interrupted her and stood. "Do you want any?" I didn't even give her the option of coming with me. I needed a break from her.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to leave?" she asked. "What if something happens?"
"I have my phone, Mom," I told her, trying to keep my exasperation out of my voice. "You can call me if you need to. I need to move around and get some caffeine in me."
"Alright," she said with a look of disapproval. "Do whatever you want." I guess I was getting a side dish of guilt to go with my coffee. I wondered if there was a liquor store down there because I was thinking I needed something stronger to get through this now.
"I'll be back, Mom." I walked out, and waited to sigh until I was out of earshot of my mother. Don't get me wrong. I loved my mother and she had always been there for me, but she was a nightmare to be around in a stressful situation. I needed to get away for a little while, before I said something that I would really regret.
I got in the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. The elevator car was empty for a change, and I tried to enjoy the solitude while I had it. I was a lot calmer by the time the doors opened, and I stepped out. I found the cafeteria, and got some coffee. I got a piece of apple pie too, since I realized I was starving and in need of a reward for putting up with Mom all morning.
I took my coffee and pie to a nearby table, and sat down. The coffee was decent, and the pie was amazingly good. I was just taking the last bite of the pie when I noticed a familiar face near a back corner of the room. I froze with the bite halfway to my mouth, my fork hovering in midair in front of me. He was sitting in profile, his face tilted down toward the book sitting open on the table in front of him. Those same short dark curls on his head made me want to touch them. I could see his strong nose and furrowed brow as he concentrated on his book. He was just as gorgeous as I remembered from yesterday. I was up out of my chair and crossing the room before I realized it. I stopped next to his chair, wondering what the hell I was doing, but unable to stop myself.
"Excuse me," I said and he looked up at me with a smile that slipped away into shock as he looked at me. "Hi." I wondered if I had made a mistake coming over here. "Remember me?"
"Natalie," he said quietly as his eyes traveled up and down my body. I felt elation that he remembered my name. "W...what are you doing here?" His confusion was obvious.
"My brother is having surgery," I told him, feeling uncertain if my presence was even wanted right now. "Can I sit down?" I asked as I motioned toward the empty chair next to him.
"Yeah, sure," he answered as he stood abruptly. Damn, he looked gorgeous in his khaki slacks and a slim fitting navy button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I noticed his badge said David on it. I finally had a name to go with his handsome face, and I knew that he worked here.
"Just let me get my coffee." I hurried over to grab it. I returned and took the seat next to him as he sat back down. He watched me closely with what I could swear was a bit of fear in his gorgeous blue eyes.
"What kind of surgery is your brother having?" he finally asked me, his voice smooth and deep. I loved the way it sounded comforting and calming, yet somehow sensual.
"He's having a broken foot fixed," I answered him. "He wrecked his motorcycle yesterday."
"I take it that he's okay otherwise."
"Yeah, he has some road rash, but he'll be fine."
"Good." He nodded and smiled again. I could watch him smile all day. The way it lit up his face was mesmerizing. "I'm David, by the way." He reached his hand out to me, and I took it. An electric surge, identical to the one from yesterday, fired through me and made me very aware of his body's close proximity to mine. He pulled his hand away quickly as if it had affected him the same way. I met his eyes and saw them darken with arousal. I felt a throbbing between my legs in response.
"I know." I grinned as I pointed at his chest. "It's on your badge."
He snorted out a laugh as he glanced down at his badge. "So it is. I guess that means you know I work here too."
"Well, that will definitely make it easier when I stalk you," I said with a smirk. His smile widened, making him even hotter. "What do you do here?"
"I'm a psych nurse."
"Then I guess I should clarify that I was kidding about stalking you." I gave him a wry smile. "I wouldn't want to get committed for mental instability." I couldn't believe how comfortable I was talking to this guy.
"I guess that would depend on whether I minded you stalking me or not." His eyes lit up with amusement.
"Do you mind?"
I asked suggestively.
"I don't think I'd mind anything you did to me," he answered, his voice lowering and his eyes darkening with desire. Good God this man just kept getting hotter. I was glad I wasn't the only one feeling this strong attraction between us.
"What if I preferred that you did things to me?" I asked as I leaned closer to him. I couldn't believe how brazen I was being, but I wanted this man, wanted him badly, and I couldn't seem to help myself from flirting.
His eyes moved down my body again, then narrowed as they came back up to mine. "I think I might prefer that too," he answered as he ran a hand through his short beard.
"Then maybe you should take me out to dinner, and we can see where this goes. We could try both ways to help you decide," I said seductively as he leaned in closer. He gave me a look that said he wanted to eat me alive, and bit his lower lip. I wondered what it would be like if he bit me instead.
"What are you doing tonight?" he finally asked me, his voice heavy with desire now.
"Wow, you're in a hurry aren't you?"
"I am when I know what I want." He nodded his head toward me.
"And what exactly is it that you want?" I asked him as I cocked my head.
He leaned even closer, his mouth only a few inches from mine. "You," he growled as he stared at my mouth. The raw desire on his face was intense and irresistible. A hot rush of desire flooded my body, and I leaned toward him, bringing my lips closer to his. I watched his eyes dilate, and his breathing quickened as he spoke. "You haven't answered my question yet? Can I take you out tonight?"
"Yes," I answered breathlessly. "I'd like that."
"Can I pick you up at seven?" he asked as he leaned back into his chair, his eyes still dark and filled with lust.
"Yes." I was elated that I'd get to see him again. That, and I hadn't gotten laid in over a month. He seemed like he'd know his way around a woman's body, if his confidence was any indicator.
You Are My Air: Breathless Book 1 Page 5