[Reluctant Hearts 01.0] Caged in Winter

by Brighton Walsh

  I slouch down the wall a little more, forcing her closer between my legs. With one hand against the small of her back, I bring her forward until she has her hands on my chest and the rest of her pressed as close as she can get. “Well, yeah, one date at a time that will hopefully lead to months of many, many dates. And besides, you agreed to that one date at a time thing in the hallway…before.”

  “Before what?”

  I stare at her, my eyes dropping to take in her full lips. Thoughts of what those lips did last night…of what they could do if given the opportunity, assault me. Not able to resist anymore, I lean forward and press my mouth to hers. With her top lip between both of mine, I swipe my tongue softly against her but pull away before I get too worked up. If I don’t, I’m afraid I’ll have her spun around, sandwiched between me and the rough brick, pushing her boundaries more than she’s ready for. Lips still brushing against hers, I say, “Before I had you against the wall and then the door and then underneath me on the couch.”

  She shivers, her eyelids drooping, and I don’t wait another second before I have her lips between mine, my tongue in her mouth. Moaning, she presses closer, the hands at my chest gripping fistfuls of my shirt.

  I can’t get enough of her, this complicated girl who fell into my life. I want to know everything about her. Her quirks and her fears and her hopes and dreams, the tiny things that make her her. I want to know what she thinks about before she falls asleep at night and what she thinks about first thing in the morning. I want to know what she does on a Wednesday night when she doesn’t have class or work. I want to know what her favorite song is, what movie she could watch a hundred times and never get sick of. I want to know what her skin feels like under my fingers…under my tongue. I want to know the sounds she’ll make when I’m inside her.

  As she melts into me, going boneless once again, I just hope whatever whispered voice telling her this won’t work is quiet long enough for me to prove to her it will.

  I kiss her twice more, holding her face between my hands as I pull back. Her eyes are heavy, her lips swollen, and fuck, I want to do unspeakable things to this girl. She drives me fucking crazy.

  “About that date,” I say, my voice coarse.

  Her eyes focus sharply on me, and she reaches up to grip my forearm. “What date?”

  “The one of many you promised me.”

  “I said one at a time, not one of many.”

  I shrug, unconcerned. “Logistics. When’s your next night off?”

  “Sunday.”

  The weekends are usually when I’m able to catch up, not having bistro class or to serve in the restaurant, but I can still make it work. I’ll just have to juggle things around in the days leading up to it. And after the coaxing I had to do to get her to agree, I’m sure as hell not going to say no now. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Gripping her hips, I push her back slightly so I can stand upright, then lead her to the car I drove instead of my bike. I open the door for her, and once she’s settled in her seat, I lean down and say, “You’ll find out on Sunday.”

  Twelve

  winter

  I’ve never been this nervous in my life. My first day on the job at The Brewery, complete with my lack of uniform to hide behind, has nothing on me waiting for Cade to arrive for our date. And while, sure, he cooked me dinner and probably considered it a date, it didn’t feel official or real because I went into it with a totally different outlook.

  This feels real.

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans again, wearing a three-foot path on the floor of the only open space in my apartment. I already spent longer than I care to admit going through my clothes and deciding what to wear—not that I have a bursting closet to choose from. In the end, I settled on jeans and a soft sweater, figuring I couldn’t go wrong with either.

  If I can’t work up the nerve to actually go through with this, it won’t matter what I’m wearing. Staring at my phone, I contemplate for the fifth time calling him and canceling. Now that I actually have his number, it’s taunting me, and the little voice in my head is begging me to use it. The same voice that’s telling me this is a bad idea, that nothing good can ever come from it.

  Before I can hit send on my phone, there’s a knock at the door, startling me. With wide, panicked eyes, I glance over, knowing without looking exactly who’s on the other side. He’s ten minutes early, and I wonder if a part of him worried about me backing out. I’m frozen, my feet stuck to the floor, and I can’t make myself move.

  He knocks again, harder this time, and immediately after, my phone rings in my hand. I glance down at it, seeing Cade’s name flashing across the screen. From the other side of the door, he says, “I can hear the phone ringing, Winter. Just pick it up.”

  Chewing the inside of my cheek, I press the talk button and hold the phone to my ear.

  “Hey,” he says, like this is perfectly normal first date behavior. “A little nervous?”

  I blow out a harsh breath. “Yeah. Am I that transparent?”

  He chuckles softly, and it’s like a caress in my ear. “On most things, no. But on this? Yeah. You worried I’m going to take you to, like, a deserted warehouse or something?”

  “Well, I wasn’t until now.”

  “Open the door, Winter.” His words are soft and soothing, just the right amount of intensity behind them to make me comply. And the way my name rolls off his tongue… I love how he says it. How he makes the one thing I’ve always hated, the one thing she gave me that I could never get rid of, sound beautiful. It’s like he caresses it every time it leaves his lips, and I want to listen to it on repeat.

  Somehow, I find myself in front of the door, the knob turning under my hand until he’s standing in front of me, phone up to his ear. His mouth is lifted at the corner, his eyes doing a quick sweep down my body, and I can’t help but return the favor. He’s dressed casually like I am, jeans and an untucked button-up shirt under his opened coat.

  “Think we can put away the phones now?” His voice echoes in my ear as I hear him say it in front of me, and I nod. He slips his phone in his back pocket, then steps through the threshold. “You need to grab your purse? And you should probably get a jacket.”

  “Right,” I say, snapping myself out of my daze as I dart around and grab both, my stomach a chaos of nerves. God, I feel like I’m fifteen.

  When I have everything, I meet him back at the door. “Do I need gloves for the ride?”

  “Nope, got the car. Tessa and Haley are already home for the night.” He smiles and pulls the door shut behind me, double-checking to make sure it’s locked.

  As I start walking down the hall, he grabs my wrist before I can get too far, tugging me to a stop and pulling me around to face him. He doesn’t quit until I’m directly in front of him, the tips of our shoes nearly touching.

  “Hey.” He brushes an errant strand of hair away from my face with his thumb, tracing along the curve of my jaw until he tugs at the corner of my mouth. The inside of my cheek is raw from biting it, my nerves getting the better of me all day. Like he read my mind, he says, “You don’t need to be nervous. Technically this is our second date, so you’re a pro at this whole dating thing.”

  I blow out a breathless laugh, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, feels like it.”

  “I wouldn’t be much of a date if I didn’t take your mind off it.” Even as he’s saying the words, he’s moving, pressing his back against the wall as he pulls me between his legs. His hands are on me, one cradling my head as the other settles on my hip, holding me to him.

  “This is all for me, then, huh?” I ask when I’m close enough to see the flecks of gold mixing with green in his hazel eyes.

  “Definitely. I don’t even want to kiss you, really. Do you see the sacrifices I’m making just for your comfort?” He speaks the last words against my lips, and then he’s kissing me, his mouth barely a whisper against mine, but I melt into him all the same.
His hands tighten on me, a soft groan rumbling from his throat as his tongue sweeps against my bottom lip. My hands settle against his chest, the crisp cotton of his shirt clenched between my fists as the nerves that were holding me captive all day fade away.

  When we’re both breathless, he pulls back, hunger in his eyes. “We need to go if I plan on showing you anything other than the hallway of your building.”

  At this point, I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing, but I still nod and follow him out to the car. When he’s settled in the seat next to me, I try to get him to tell me where we’re going again, but he won’t divulge.

  “You’re going to see for yourself in, like, five minutes.”

  “Exactly, so why can’t you just tell me?”

  “Well, at first, because I wanted it to be a surprise. But now it’s kind of fun to taunt you.”

  “Jerk.” I laugh, looking out the window. Nothing and everything looks familiar, this neighborhood like a hundred others in the city. He could be taking me to a million different places, and when he pulls up in front of a hole-in-the-wall restaurant I’ve never been to, it catches me off guard. All day I wondered where he was planning to take me, and I was anticipating something big, over the top, considering the dinner he made for me last week. That was where part of my nerves came in.

  He comes over to my side of the car and opens the door for me, offering me a hand to help me out. “What’s that surprised look for?”

  I snap my eyes to his, hating that my thoughts are displayed so plainly for him to see. “I was just expecting something…different.”

  “Well,” he says as he opens the door to the restaurant for me, “you said you’d never been on a date before. So tonight, it’s cheesy first date activities. Dinner and a movie, followed by ice cream.”

  Stopping just inside the door, I stare at him, struck by the kindness he’s showing me. I realize now I’m not just a chase for him. He listened to every pointless and inconsequential word I spoke to him, cataloged it all away as he got to know me in ten- and fifteen-minute increments.

  He mistakes my silence for disapproval. “Don’t tell me you hate movies. Or you’re allergic to ice cream.”

  Shaking my head, I squeeze his hand. “No, neither. It sounds good.”

  Perfect, I amend in my head as the waitress leads us to a table. It sounds perfect.

  cade

  “It’s probably too cold for ice cream, but there aren’t a lot of choices for dessert this late.”

  She shakes her head, following me into the small ice cream shoppe. “It’s never too cold for ice cream. I can’t remember the last time I had some.”

  “Really? Tessa lives on the shit, I swear. If I go to the store and don’t get a pint of her favorite, it’s like World War Three at our house. She’s ruthless.”

  After selecting our flavors, we settle into a corner table in the back, away from the few people inside.

  Around a bite of ice cream, she asks, “Have you and your sister always been close?”

  I shrug, scooping a spoonful of chocolate. “Sort of. I mean, she was always that pain-in-the-ass younger sister. Even after my dad died, it was like that. But then when my mom got sick, things just…changed. The shit we used to fight about seemed pretty fucking pointless, you know?”

  She nods, looking down at the table.

  “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Ah, no. Only child.”

  “I used to wish for that when I was younger. When Tessa did something to piss me off, I’d tell her I was going to sell her to the circus and use the money to redo her room into an arcade.” I laugh, remembering her rage. “That was probably my favorite thing to torment her with. But yeah, I used to wish it was just me.”

  “Gets lonely,” she mumbles around her last bite of ice cream. Before I can ask her any more about her family, she turns and stands up. “Gonna throw this away and use the bathroom.”

  I nod as she walks away, watching her go. Our conversation wasn’t stilted at all the whole night, but any time I asked a question too personal, she deflected, bringing it back to me or avoiding it altogether. It feels like I know a lot about Winter now, but I don’t know anything about what made her into the person she is. I don’t know anything about her time before The Brewery or school.

  And I can’t shake the feeling she doesn’t want me to.

  She walks back after I’ve already tossed my garbage, and she smiles tightly when she gets to the table.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  Nodding, she allows me to grab her hand as I lead her out and to the car. When she’s settled in her seat, I walk around to my side and start the car before pulling into the traffic. The ride is short, and Winter is quiet the whole time, staring out the window. I want to know what’s going through her head, what caused the sudden shift again. But if I’ve learned anything from the now Winter, it’s that she doesn’t like to be pushed.

  Once we’re parked in front of her building, I shut off the car and turn to her. “So how was your first date? I do okay?”

  She twists to look at me and smiles, and this time it’s genuine. “It was nice. Thank you for this.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got one more first date milestone.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Mhmm,” I murmur as I lean across the center console. She meets me halfway, her lips pressed softly against mine. And even though I’ve kissed her harder, longer, I keep this soft and sweet, exactly what she’d normally experience on a first date, had she ever had one.

  When I pull back, she keeps her eyes closed, her lips parted, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to throw my chivalry out the fucking window and kiss her like I want to, pull her into my lap or push her against the door and feel her tongue slide against mine, feel her hands under my shirt or mine under hers. Feel everything until there’s nothing separating us but air and I’m between her thighs, pressing into her.

  And then she opens her eyes, stares right at me, and I’m done. I will do anything…let her set the pace completely, just to see that look in her eyes when she’s with me.

  I walk her inside, going past the broken lock on the front door, the busted intercom system, and I hate that she lives in such a shithole. Once her door is open and she’s braced on the doorframe, leaning to the side, I kiss her again, as softly as I did in the car, offer a quiet good-bye, and walk backward away from her.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  She shakes her head, but there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips, and she doesn’t voice the rebuttal I know is perched on the tip of her tongue, the one telling me she doesn’t need a ride home from work. Probably because she knows I won’t listen.

  In the short weeks we’ve known each other, she’s already getting to know small details about me, uncovering bits of me here and there, though I’ve never pretended to be a closed book. I’ll tell her anything she wants to know.

  With her, it’s completely different. If I think I’m getting to know her better, I’m just fooling myself. Because the more I uncover about her, the more I want to discover. But I don’t want to dig out the answers, chisel away until she crumbles.

  I want her to trust me enough to tell me on her own.

  Thirteen

  winter

  It’s getting warmer now, my walk across campus as I hustle to my next class not as chilly as it was even a week ago. I wonder what it will be like to ride on the back of Cade’s motorcycle when I don’t have the ever-present chill nipping at my exposed skin. And a part of me—a part I’ve tried to keep locked up tight, but has slipped out anyway—can’t wait to find out.

  I dodge groups of students scattered around on my way into the building. This is, by far, my most exhausting day of the week. With a full schedule of classes until three thirty, then work from four until midnight, I have no break. When I squeeze in time for studying and homework, I’m a walking zombie by Wednesday.

  As if all that wasn’t enough, now there�
��s a maybe… What? Boyfriend? Can I even call him that? A week ago, I would’ve said hell no. A fresh wave of hives would’ve popped up all over my skin at the mere idea, but now… Now it doesn’t send me running in a panicked frenzy like it might have only a few days ago. Rather than troublesome, his presence in my life is comforting. And after twenty-two years of nothing and no one, of doing it all on my own, it feels damn good to be comforted…wanted.

  My phone buzzes in my jeans pocket, and I wait until I’m inside the building before I pull it out, fighting the smile that wants to spread across my lips when I see Cade’s name on the screen.

  When’s your next break? Can I see you?

  A week or two ago, I might’ve tried to find excuses not to go out, not to interact, but now I find myself wishing I actually had a break in the day, if only to sneak off for five minutes just to say hi.

  Frowning, I type out my reply.

  Class all day. No time to meet.

  I put my phone back in my pocket and climb the steps to the third floor, making my way down the hallway and into the classroom. Several people are inside already, scattered all over the room, a couple offering me waves, which I return. When I’m seated at my desk, I check my phone again to see if he replied.

  Tonight?

  I glance at the clock, seeing I still have a couple minutes before class starts and type out a response.

  Work

  Be there at 12:30

  It’s ok. Bus.

  I know my reply will fall on deaf ears, but the prideful part of me still feels like I need to say it, just to prove—to myself more than anything—that I don’t need him. I stare at my phone, waiting a minute for a reply. Before anything comes through, my professor arrives and gets started with class. My phone is forgotten in my bag, my books and notes spread out in front of me, but I can’t focus on anything the man at the front of the classroom is droning on about.