Love Untouched (Unexpected)

by Anne Leigh

  “Was there anything more between you and Sedona?” My curiosity got the better of me.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, removing his eyes from the road for a second to look at me, his hand squeezing mine gently.

  “Well, you know, most of the greatest love stories are of best friends finding love with each other, and that plotline is one of the biggest blockbusters in movies …,” I joked lightly. “I mean Sedona’s so beautiful. I can’t help but wonder if there was anything between the two of you before.”

  “Maybe in books and movies Brynn. In real life, best friends can actually be just ‘best friends.’ You see the way Ace is with Zander?” Without waiting for my answer, he said in a reflective voice, “She’s not that way with me. Ever. I may have...” He paused and sighed. “Wanted something more with her in the past, but it just wasn’t in the cards for us. Ace is beautiful, yes, there’s no denying that, but she’s not meant for me, you know? There are just some things that are not meant to be...”

  I didn’t expect him to answer me so openly, so honestly. But, with Kieran, I was starting to see that while he didn’t say much, he thought about things, a lot. If you asked him a question, he’d either answer it straight up or completely evade it, depending on his mood.

  “Did Sedona know?” I asked. If Sedona knew then maybe she and Kieran would be with each other now.

  “Ace knew what?” he reiterated, his hand turning the wheel to the right. We were now at a four-way stop, and he waved to the driver on the left side of the street corner to go ahead. The driver, a female, waved her hand as she passed us by.

  “Did Sedona know that you wanted something more with her?”

  The top right corner of his mouth lifted, and his tone held a slight edge. “Brynn, it was a long time ago. We were kids back then. I doubt Ace would’ve taken me seriously if I professed my undying love for her at that age.”

  “Undying love, Kieran?” This was deeper than I thought. Kieran sounded like he was joking, but in every joke, bits and pieces of truth come out.

  “She’s my best friend. She’s annoying, moody, and very boring, but yes, I do love her.” He was stating the obvious, evading my question.

  I didn’t want to force him to tell me anything he didn’t want to share so I kept a lid on the subject. Silence passed between us, the conversation hitting a dead end. The sound of the light music playing and the occasional car horn honking outside invaded the unwelcome quiet in the car.

  “I want you to know that I really like you.” His voice was low as his hand lightly caressed mine that may have gotten cold from the A/C inside the car, or maybe from the awkward silence between us. “The way I feel when I’m with you, Brynn—well, I haven’t felt like this with any girl, in such a long time.”

  A surge of relief came over me. I was not the only one who felt that something was brewing between us, then. I was ecstatic it was not just me, not a one-sided deal, especially since I have come to really like him.

  His eyes were on the road but his serious voice was on me, commanding, asking me to listen. “You asked if Ace knew. No, she didn’t. I didn’t tell her, but I’m telling you because right now, I want you to know and I want to make it clear to you, for you to be assured, that what I have with you, what I’d like to start with you, will not be clouded over by what you might be thinking I felt for Ace before. It was a long time ago, ages ago. You could even say ancient.”

  I was about to explore his answer some more, but I got totally distracted when the car stopped in front of a majestic-looking mansion with a front gate pad where Kieran was punching in the security code.

  “Oh my god!” My voice could not hide the utter shock as I took in my surroundings. Lush greenery surrounded the property, the outside gardens looked well maintained, and the huge colorful flowers surrounding an architectural-looking fountain in the middle of the expansive entrance was exquisite.

  “What?” he asked, his brows atop his sunglasses arched in confusion.

  “You live here?” Sedona had said that Kieran came from an affluent family, but my goodness, if he lived in this sort of place; this was way beyond my thoughts of what affluence was. In fact, Kieran’s house almost looked as big as Ava’s Las Vegas mansion, from the outside.

  “I used to,” he said, his voice dissipating as he climbed out of the car and came around to open my door. “I now live in Arizona.” His face broke out into a smile.

  “Duh,” I sniggered. “Thanks, Mr. Obvious.” I stood in front of the house, unable to look away. Milo and I grew up in a four bedroom, middle class household. We were not rich but we were not poor either. When our parents died, we moved in with our aunt Margie. She had a smaller house but it was cozy. So, for me, houses like Ava’s and Kieran’s were fiction more than reality. For this reality to be right in front of my face was both enthralling and cold-water-dumped-over-my-head shocking in some ways.

  I heard Kieran’s light chuckle as he unloaded our bags from the car. He pulled on the handle of my luggage and carried my bulky, toiletry filled, shoulder bag across his right shoulder. Kieran was not ashamed to carry any of my bags. It was as if he knew that carrying women’s purses didn’t diminish any vital parts of his manhood. And it didn’t. Truth be told, nothing could diminish the in-born confidence he exuded. Coupled with the mysterious depths in those deep dark eyes, Kieran was hands-down, all man.

  He pulled my whole body next to his and hung his left arm around my waist, as he led me to the massive glass, French-inspired entry door, and turned the knob.

  “Don’t you lock the doors?” I was on fire with all the questions today. After I agreed to a weekend with him, Kieran was tight-lipped about the details. He just said that his parents were on vacation in Ireland, and his brothers were out-of-town so no one would be here, and that he wanted me to see where he grew up.

  “At night, we do.” He walked into the classically decorated living room. “But during the day, Talia works around the house with her husband, Matias, so there’s no need to lock the doors.” Sensing my next question, he added, “Talia and Matias hold the fort when my parents and brothers are not here.”

  My eyes fell on the view around me. It was intimidating and captivating at the same time. The floor-to-ceiling windows and doors were a backdrop to the amazing view of the garden that I caught a glimpse of on the drive. The foyer led to a stunning staircase that seemed to be endless from where I was standing. Kieran set our luggage down to the side and showed me the rest of the house. He pointed out the spectacular formal living room, a formal dining room, a family room, a wine room, and a kitchen with a breakfast area. The kitchen was any gourmet chef’s dream. It was well equipped with a Viking range and hood, French oak floors, and massive kitchen counters made with marble and dark-grey stone.

  “I could live in this kitchen,” I exclaimed breathlessly. If I had an orgasm, I was sure this was how it would feel like. Out of all the things in his parents’ house, what with the expensive-looking paintings on the walls and intricate Asian-inspired vases, this kitchen was one that I had not even conjured in my dreams, but would now become a fantasy.

  I felt his arms around my waist, and as I inhaled his scent, he said in an amused tone, “I grew up in this place, Brynn. But this wasn’t home... Not for a long time. What you see right now is all the polished silver, dusted paintings, and pristine furniture.”

  I turned my body to face him and met his wary gaze. I reached my hand to his dark-blonde, windblown hair. At 6’2”, Kieran was taller than I was, but my height enabled me to look up into his face without any forced neck twisting. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll show you where my home is.” He tucked my hand to his side and we walked down a hallway, and then passed through a glass door. After a short turn to the right, then a quick left, he stopped by an Olympic-sized pool. I was familiar with an Olympic-sized pool. I may not have accompanied my brother during all of his swim meets, but I have been to some, and this was a gigantic pool in a gigantic house.
The clear blue water was so inviting. I lowered my body and touched my fingertips to the water. It was cool to the touch, so welcoming after a long drive.

  I was about to stand up when I heard a splash at the far end of the pool and just caught the sight of Kieran’s Olympic swimmer body hit the water. He must have removed his shirt, jeans, and shoes in a short span of time because his CK blues were his only cover.

  “Come on, Brynn. Get in the water,” he urged, “Just do a quick lap or two.” His hair was now completely soaked. He looked like a kid who had never been inside a pool before. He looked so happy that it was almost a struggle for me to let him down.

  “I can’t.” My breath dragged through my words. I turned to walk towards the inside of the house, not knowing where I was going. I had to get out of here. I needed to breathe. Being in this massive mansion, seeing Kieran’s hands outstretched on top of the water, his voice eager for me to join him, was my reality check. I could not do this. Not with him. Not with someone as perfect as him. He deserved someone who looked like Sedona. All perfect like her.

  A big hand clamped around my right arm. “Brynn, stop.” A quiet command, a command nonetheless.

  “I want to go back home, Kieran,” I said, not looking at him. He slowly maneuvered me so I was facing him. He was in his boxers, all soaked, and water was dripping on the marble floors.

  “Why?” he asked, cupping my chin with his hand.

  “I can’t do this with you.” My decision became more resolute as I said the words aloud. He was a man who should have a perfect woman by his side. Not one like me. I had no problems with my self-esteem. I was my own woman, but now I was second-guessing myself. I had a healthy self-confidence. Before Kieran.

  “Can you just take a minute to think this through?” He hugged me, and since his body was dripping wet, my top and jeans got wet, too. Did he do that on purpose? Now I had no choice but to stay long enough to change my clothes.

  I battled with the need to run away from this place, call a cab, and get dropped off at the nearest airport. I was ready to tell him my plans when I saw him. My eyes catching his image in my retina, sending the synapses to my brain, and finally connecting the message with some unnamed emotion. I clearly saw him.

  His soaked boxers were all that covered his nakedness. However, what really made me pause was when I looked into his deep, brown eyes, and saw they no longer held the eagerness and untamed joy that they had earlier. His expression was lost, forlorn.

  Seconds, minutes passed.

  Finally, he spoke. “Please... stay,” he said, his voice threadbare, the message amplified by the raw honesty in his eyes. He added, “For me.”

  The way he said it unhinged me. He sounded like he had never asked anyone to stay, for him.

  The war I waged within myself was lost. Now, we had reached another dimension, another level in this unlabeled relationship we shared. For weeks, he had been there for me, and followed me home after work every night. Inviting him for breakfast was the start of another level. During the drive here, he shared a lot of himself with me, maybe even some secrets and truths he’d never shared with anyone else. If I had to describe this in a game, we were past the easy level, now we were on to another track.

  You’ve lived your life this way, Brynn. No regrets. Now, take the plunge. Literally.

  I moved away from his hug and traced our steps back to the pool, as best as I could. His stride followed mine closely. No words were exchanged between us. Once we reached the pool, I unbuttoned my top, slid it over and off my arms, kicked my wedge sandals to the side, and stepped out of my jeans.

  Standing at the edge of the pool, in my mismatched light-blue bra and boy shorts, I whispered, “Teach me how to swim.”

  “Excuse me?” I gulped. The sight of her body, even from the back, made it hard for me to form coherent speech. “Did you just ask me to teach you how to swim?”

  Brynn jumped in the water but stayed in the 4-feet deep side of the pool. The ends of her golden hair were submerged, her bra was wet, her nipples clearly showing, and her trim waist was below the water. She remained standing, unmoving. Brynn with clothes on was sexy. Brynn in scrubs was hot. Brynn in underwear? Nuclear. I didn’t predict that she would just undress in front of me. If I had known a pool was what it took for her to do that, I would have planted one in front of the hospital. Okay, I might have brought her to the training facility. Oh, that would not have worked because her brother was there. A brother who had no clue that Brynn was here with me. And that part I was starting to really hate.

  “Yes,” she repeated, “teach me how to swim.”

  I jumped in the water, gauging myself correctly, and I landed on my feet right in front of her.

  “You don’t know how to swim?” Swimming was a natural state for me. As essential as breathing. Some people took caffeine first thing in the morning. Some took a shower. I swam. “Your brother is a swimmer.” As much as I despised mentioning him, I had to say it. “One of the best swimmers in the country, second only to me.” Well, I was the best so there was no arguing that fact.

  “And?” Her light blonde eyebrows rose. Her eyelashes had gotten wet, and the effect of her wet look was sultry. “Just because he’s a swimmer doesn’t mean I’m a swimmer, too.”

  “Well, yes. But the least he could have done is teach you.”

  She stroked her fingertips through her hair. Her eyes, made bluer by the reflection of the water, looked up at me, and she lightly replied, “I wasn’t really a water-loving child. I loved being in the kitchen more than anything else. My parents enrolled me in swimming lessons but I never really learned. Then one day, Ava and I were at the beach with her family. She’s a good swimmer and all of a sudden, I wanted to learn how to swim. I asked my brother to teach me…but it was too late. He tried but he couldn’t.”

  “Couldn’t?” I was full of repetitive questions but there was no other way for me to satisfy my curiosity. My body was as close to her as I could get without making her feel like I was crowding her. The sound of someone mowing the lawn was faint in the background, the sun was slowly setting in the West, and it was just the two of us. So much has happened within the space of eight and a half hours. The long drive from Arizona to here, with limited stops in between, the undeniable attraction between us was palpable, especially in the car. Me telling her about Ace, and her almost fleeing from me before finally agreeing to stay, this was a turning point, I realized. In swimming, it was coming off a turn, kicking back from the wall, and trying to get to the finish line.

  She reached for my hand and guided me towards her body. Her back was facing me when she had stripped off her clothes earlier. I was not able to fully appreciate what was in front of me until now. Her breasts were perfect, not too big, not too small. Most likely a 34C. I was acquainted with women’s bra cup sizes. I had three brothers. Two older, Zachariah and Jonas, both perverts, who used to order Victoria’s Secret catalogs under my father’s name when Zach was thirteen, and had a revolving subscription to Sports Illustrated, Playboy, or Maxim. My younger brother, Matthieu, was a jackass and a caricature of my older brothers. He was a typical football player, a jock and went after all the cheerleaders. I should send him to Zander so he could learn the right ways of being a pro football player. One who stuck with one girl and didn’t stray.

  Brynn opened both of my palms up and glided them from her neck down to the lower part of her ribcage. Her eyes didn’t stray from mine, as she asked, “Do you feel it?”

  Yes, I felt it. This stark, naked feeling of desire for a woman I was not supposed to have.

  “I feel it Brynn.” My eyes flared with unmitigated desire. I dipped my head down to reach for her mouth but she lowered her face to look at our entangled hands.

  “No Kieran,” she responded, determinedly. “Feel my skin.”

  I refocused on her words, and I felt them. One, two, three of them. She guided my right hand to rest a few inches below her heart, and I felt another one. They were of varied textures
- undulated, hardened, fibrous tissue against my skin.

  “Can I look?” I asked, wanting to verify what I had felt with my hands.

  Since we were standing in the shallow part of the pool, the tops of our bodies were above water. I sank down, almost to my knees, and lowered my head to look at what I had felt. The underwater swimming pool lights had switched on so I was able take in with my eyes what I had roughly felt with my hands.

  There they were. Sitting on the lower part of the right side of her stomach were white scars, hypo-pigmented against her fair skin. They were raised, about one or two inches in diameter, and situated closely together, forming an imperfect circle.

  “I couldn’t eat so they had to put a feeding tube through my stomach.” Her voice was calm as she explained what I was seeing. “I had them for months and when one of them got clogged and infected, they removed it and started another one... and another one.”

  “This?” I asked, still trying to make sense of what she was revealing to me. My hand was now below her heart. A long, scarred tissue marred her perfect skin.

  “They opened me up there because I had a bacteria that grew on my skin and it almost killed me. It was months before they could close this.” I could tell she was not sad. She was making me understand what the scars were from without even a hint of melancholy. “My body’s not perfect Kieran. I am all scarred up, but I am not ashamed. I can’t swim and not because I didn’t want to, I just couldn’t. I was too weak in the hospital to even stand on my own feet during chemotherapy. While my brother was winning swim meets, I was trying to win for him too. I was fighting for my life.” This time, tears pooled in her eyes and streamed down her face. I reached out to touch her, but she stopped me with her hand.

  Her voice didn’t waver as she continued, “Our parents died from a boating accident when I was eight. Milo had barely turned ten. We lived with our Aunt Margie, my mom’s only sister and our godmother. She had custody of us. Then, when I was ten, Aunt Margie almost went to jail and we were going to be taken by Children’s Services because she had to keep taking me to the ER, and I had all these bruises on my skin. Milo and I were loved by Aunt Margie. It was such a difficult time because we didn’t know what was happening with me. I had all these bruises, with no one ever laying a hand on me. Finally, a doctor figured it out and I was diagnosed with osteosarcoma. The bruising was part of my disease. My right leg kept swelling up and I was in a lot pain. A month after my diagnosis, I was lucky to be able to get into a research trial for a new chemotherapy drug. Because it was a research drug, Aunt Margie, the nurses, and the medical team kept me prepared to go into surgery, knowing if the drug didn’t work the cancer could spread into my bones and nerves. The drug worked, though, and after being in the hospital for over a year, the bone biopsy and scan showed that I was cancer-free. I’ve been in remission for years now. So, there you have it, Kieran. My body’s nothing compared to yours. I look at you, and you’re perfection. No scars.”