by Potter, LR
“Don’t! Just don’t,” she muttered looking away from him, infuriated at herself for discussing any of this.
Quietly, he set his utensils down. “Tate, you should be proud of what you’ve accomplished. You were focused, worked hard, and it paid off. But I do feel sad when I think of the little blonde girl sitting at her desk toiling away while everyone around her was out having a good time. You must have been very lonely.”
She swallowed and looked away from the intensity of his blue eyes. “I preferred it that way.”
“I can see that,” he said, eyeing her thoughtfully. “Whew! How’d we get so serious? This isn’t light dinner conversation. Let’s talk about something else… how about those Gators?” he said with a grin.
For the rest of the dinner, Jace set out to be funny and amusing; which he was. He told her story after story about growing up with a brother and a sister; about his shenanigans in high school; about singing in a rock band; and finally continuing on to his time in college and medical school.
As he talked, Tate wished she’d have brought her camera with her so she could have captured him as he spoke. He became animated and frequently used his hands. She could have watched him for hours. He continuously flashed his gleaming teeth and crinkled the lines at his eyes when he smiled. She was so fascinated by him.
Once dinner was over, they began to walk around the downtown area. As they rounded a corner which led them into the middle of the square, a cyclist sped by too close to the sidewalk. Jace reached out a hand and took hers, pulling her tight against his side. Even after the danger had passed, he continued to hold her hand as they walked. The warmth from his touch seemed to heat her blood straight up to her heart.
They eventually ended up at one of Tate’s favorite sites in the city. It was a park with a huge lighted fountain in the center. The water in the middle of the fountain seemed to shoot up far into the heavens before falling gracefully back down. She was surprised and delighted to see two swans swimming in the fountain. Their majesty seemed to add to the fantasy of the night. It was perfect.
As they sat together on a bench facing the fountain, Jace said, “Did you know swans mate for life?”
“No, I didn’t,” she answered.
“You see that a lot in the animal kingdom, but not so much in humans. My parents have been married for thirty-two years. I don’t think they’ve ever spent the night apart. That’s what I want eventually – a mate for life. ”
The glow of the night seemed to fade a little at his words. Down in the dark recesses of her mind, she would like that also, but knew it wasn’t destined for her. With a little shake of her head, she pushed the dark thoughts away. She was enjoying right now, this moment, which was something she’d never experienced before. She liked being out with Jace. He made her feel less alone… almost like she was normal, and not a freak.
By eleven o’clock, Jace was walking her up the stairs to her apartment. Her hands began to sweat. Having limited experience in the world of normal dating, she wasn’t sure how it was supposed to end. She hoped he wasn’t expecting more than she could give. She closed her eyes as visions of Bradley Rivers’s pool table flashed in her mind and then her father’s words. Nothing in life is free, Patanga. The feel of hands holding her shoulders down felt almost real.
When they stepped onto the landing, she turned to face him, her stomach in knots. He reached down and intertwined the fingers of their hands.
“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” he quoted from Shakespeare.
“That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow,” she said, reciting the next line.
He flashed a quick smile at her continuance of the quote. “Please tell me you thought Romeo and Juliet was a bit lame,” he pleaded.
“Foolish maybe, but not lame.”
He flashed a sexy grin, which showcased his dimples, and she nearly stopped breathing. Slowly he pulled her to him before dropping her hands to touch her lightly on her hips. He pressed his lips against her ear, and lowering his voice to an almost husky whisper, he said, “Well, I prefer this sonnet. If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me?” As he sang the words from an old Bellamy Brothers song, he slowly moved them in a small circle.
She laughed at his antics. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a sonnet.”
“Oh, you laugh now, Tate Morgan, but before long, you’ll be begging me to hold my body against yours.”
Her lips twitched at his outrageous statement, as he’d intended. “Is that right?”
“I’m insulted, you sound doubtful,” he said with mock censure.
She grinned. “Begging, uh?”
As he leaned her against the door, he placed his hands on either side of her upturned face, palms flat on the door behind her. “Begging,” he whispered against her lips.
He pressed his lips softly and sensuously against hers. She inhaled deeply at the contact. He flicked the tip of his tongue delicately against her lips until she parted them. In a way that made her toes curl, he licked into her mouth and deepened the kiss. Her heart began to pound and she placed her hands on his hips to press closer into the kiss. With suppressed need, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his body against hers, leaving no available space between them.
With a groan, he pulled back his head, leaned his forehead against hers, and panted, “You won’t have to beg. I’ll beg.”
He took her keys, and unlocked the door for her.
Nervously and a little breathless, she asked, “Do you want to come in?”
Brushing the hair from her face, he said, “No, not tonight. I’m sorry but I’m bushed. It’s been a long weekend. I’m not used to the late nights anymore.”
A battle seemed to be warring within her. While she didn’t want to have sex with him on their first date, she wanted to be the one to say no. But he was the one calling a halt to it. What did that mean? Did he find her lacking on their date? All her insecurities rose up within her. She put a mask over her features. She did not want him knowing how much his approval of her meant.
Straightening, she said, “Well, thanks for a great night. I’ll see you around.”
She turned and walked into the house. As she stepped into the kitchen, he came up behind her and spun her around to face him. He caught her face within his palms and pressed his lips against hers, softly at first, then growing steadily more aggressive as he gently coaxed her lips open and began to slide his tongue against her own.
“God, I want you. Please don’t wait too long to beg me. Okay?” he said against her mouth.
“Okay,” she whispered.
With one last hard kiss, he dropped his hands, and turned to go. He stopped abruptly.
“I’m gonna need your phone number, if you don’t mind.”
She laughed, turned, grabbed a Post-It, and scribbled her number down. He did the same in turn. Baby, don’t lose my number, he sang as he bounded down the stairs.
Locking the apartment door, Tate leaned back against the door, folded her hands together, and pressed them against her chest. Her happiness was edged in fear – the fear of losing her happiness. It was a vicious cycle. He’d taken her number and he was going to call her. Yay! As she’d done on her bike, she punched the air with her fists. Yes!
Chapter 3
The next couple weeks were a new experience for Tate. She’d never been involved in a dating relationship with anyone. Not that she saw Jace all that much. His schedule certainly did not match up with hers very well. He slept or worked while she was at school, then she slept or worked when he was off. They did manage to spot each other over the dance floor at Zeal’s as she waited tables and he played and sang in the band. She was happy she’d not seen Blondie or his friends since the night they’d accosted her.
Because she was happy, she’d not wanted to jinx it by returning to the psychiatrist, so she cancelled her appointment. She was afraid Dr. Randall would tell her to stop whatever was going on with her gorgeous doctor – and that wasn’t happening
.
Tate tried to not let it bother her that every woman in the club wanted her man, if indeed, that was what he was. She watched night after night, as screaming women swamped the stage and sent drink after drink to him.
She and Jace managed to be together for a short while on Saturday and Sunday nights once the bar closed. But he always worked the next day, so he never was able to stay long. The more time she spent with him, the more time she wanted to spend. She finally did understand Juliet’s sorrow in parting. His good column rose higher than his bad column, and slowly, she let the window of her trust creep open, little by little.
While there’d been serious groping and toe-tingling kisses, he’d not pressed her about sex, but she didn’t know how much longer he would want to wait – or if indeed she wanted him to. But she was afraid of taking that final leap. A small part of her was afraid sex with him wouldn’t be any different than with any of the others. She’d broken that cycle a long time ago and was scared of restarting it. And deep down, she didn’t really trust his supposed attraction to her. Why would he want her, when he could have anyone?
It was now Friday night, and running around slinging drinks and policing her tables seemed to encompass her entire attention. She thought there must have been something in the air as she fought off hands on her butt and suggestive requests all night long. She felt almost dirty from all the advances she was forced to maneuver out of graciously.
Her world was made better, however, when halfway through her shift, Jace drew up behind her as she stood at the bar, cutting fruit into wedges. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her neck and whispered huskily, “Dance with me.”
“I can’t,” she murmured, as her heart leapt into her throat.
“Why?” he asked as he nipped playfully at her earlobe.
“Two reasons. One, Zek would fire me; and the second is, I don’t know how to dance.”
“Both good and valid points. But I’ve cleared it with Zek and I’ll show you how to dance. It’ll be a slow dance. Come on, Tate, please,” he begged.
She hesitated only briefly before wiping her lime juice-covered hands on a dish towel and turned to him. “Lead the way, Fred Astaire.”
He grinned and pressed his lips to her forehead before tugging her behind him to the dance floor. He was right; the next song was a slow song. He positioned them in the middle of the crowd on the dance floor and tugged her closer to him by placing his hands on her hips. He wrapped her arms around his neck and slid his around her waist.
“Now, just follow me, okay?” he whispered next to her ear.
He moved them in slow circles in time to the beat of the song. Loud enough for only her to hear him, he sang along with the soloist. Could life get any better than this? Here she was, Tate Morgan, slow dancing with this magnificent man, who was just so damned sexy it hurt her heart just to look at him. She curled her fingers into his silky black hair and pressed herself tightly against him as they swayed. She listened as he sang against her ear the words of a Bruno Mars song, It Will Rain.
“Cause there’ll be no sunlight if I lose you, baby; there’ll be no clear skies if I lose you, baby. Just like the clouds, my eyes will do the same if you walk away, everyday it will rain, rain, rain…” He stopped singing and pulled back slightly. She lifted her face up to stare into his exquisite blue eyes. Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly. He slid his hands up her body until his hands captured her face and he deepened the kiss. She couldn’t tell if they were still dancing or not… and she didn’t care. All she cared about was being with this man right now, with his lips devouring hers with soft, sensual licks of his tongue. She was breathless and panting when he pulled away. Staring up into the fathomless depths of his eyes, she knew she was falling in love with him. How could she not? The song ended all too soon.
“Thanks for the dance,” he murmured, lightly pressing his lips against hers once more, making her feel desired and wanted.
She went back to work on lighter feet, and she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.
After the nightclub closed and he walked her up to her apartment, he spun her lightly in his arms and held her close. “I have to work a double tomorrow, so I won’t be able to see you until Sunday. How about you come and spend the afternoon with me? It’ll just be you and me… for longer than an hour. Imagine the possibilities,” he said with a grin.
She swallowed at his words. Fear ran up her spine and her heart began to pound. She closed her eyes when he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her softly.
When he drew back, she said, “I don’t know. I have a big project due next week.”
He brushed his fingertips across her face before leaning in to press his lips against her forehead. “Please think about it, okay? I’m going to be catching up on some basketball games and you can do your project at my place. I won’t distract you, I promise.”
Her lips twitched at the thought that he wouldn’t distract her. “I’ll think about it. Call me tomorrow.”
“Okay,” he murmured as he pulled her close and kissed her thoroughly.
§§§
It was Sunday and she had just finished her self-defense class at G-Force, as well as a much-needed workout. Every look, every touch, every kiss, from Jace had left her sexually frustrated. She wanted him desperately but was still afraid. She now knew what an alcoholic felt like. While she knew she shouldn’t want him, she couldn’t stop the longing. He was like a drug in her blood. As she trudged up the wooden stairs to her apartment, her cellphone vibrated in her pocket. Lifting it, she saw it was Toby, her foster-mother.
“Hey, Toby,” she answered.
“Hey, yourself. Have you lost my number? I haven’t heard from you in weeks. What’s going on with you?” Toby asked.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. You know me, nothing but school and work.”
There was a pause on the line. “Thor told me you were dating someone,” Toby said quietly.
Tate cringed. “I guess you could say that.”
“Are you being careful?” Toby asked.
When most people asked that question, they were concerned with pregnancy or maybe sexual-transmitted diseases, but Tate understood the hidden context. Toby had lived through Tate’s last year in high school – specifically her sick need to debase herself with a string of nameless boys. But she’d put that behind her… hadn’t she? She’d not been with anyone since coming to the University of Florida – almost three-and-a-half years.
“Yes,” she murmured.
Toby cleared her throat. “Well, good. I was worried. You just pulled your life back together. I’d hate for you to slip back to…” she drifted off.
“How’s Markus?” Tate asked, striving to change the subject.
“Not as good as we’d like. He’s scheduled for surgery in the next month. I’ll let you know.” Toby paused for a beat before continuing. “Tate, Markus and I are always here for you. You know that, right?”
“Sure,” Tate answered by rout.
“Okay, well take care and I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.”
“Bye,” Tate replied.
Flashes of sweaty bodies pressing her down once more filled her mind. Resolutely, she forced them away. That was a long time ago. She was not that person anymore.
§§§
Jace’s apartment complex was situated about a block from Shand’s Hospital. It was a newer complex with rough-hued, red blocks on its façade, and gleaming glass in the front that, during the day, would allow the sun to stream in and light the entire lobby area.
It was the first time Tate had been to his apartment, and she was a little nervous. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if they’d never been alone together. But today felt… different.
The elevator dinged as the doors slid opened. He punched in the fifth floor and the smooth ascent had them there in no time. The halls to the apartments were painted an off-white, with scatterings of floral arrangements sitting around on shiny wo
oden tables. Sconces illuminated the hall, throwing light upward towards the ceiling.
Instead of using a key, he slipped a credit card-like card into a slot – almost like hotels used. His apartment was softly hued in sage greens and creams. Tate bet his mother or a woman had decorated it, as it had the definite touch of a woman. The huge living room had mammoth bookcases which lined one wall with a huge, black, plasma-screen TV in between. She cringed when she compared his place to her own apartment. Not that Jace ever made her feel bad about her poor college-life existence. But for her, and the life she’d led, this was yet another bucket of water to throw in their great divide. She wondered what he saw in her… and how much longer he would continue seeing it.
It was such a rarity for their schedules to align like this – and of course he’d expect her to spend it with him – so here they sat in Jace’s apartment –
together. While she wasn’t particularly interested in March Madness, apparently, Dr. Jace Staton couldn’t get enough of the basketball games which aired night after night. Supposedly working on her huge school project, here she sat with her papers scattered all around her on the floor. Jace sat nearby with his feet alternatively kicked up on the coffee table or slammed down on the floor, depending on whatever travesties happened in the game he’d recorded from earlier in the week. He had a basketball in between his hands that he spun or tossed up as the mood struck him. Tate liked watching the play of his muscles as they bunched and retracted. He was just so darned sexy! And she had to admit, she liked him like this; with his hair ruffled, screaming at the television – relaxed and passionate was an awesome combination.
She gradually found herself, more often than not, with her elbow on the end of the coffee table, head on her hand, as she watched him as he watched the game. He was in a pair of grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt which proclaimed: “I’m a man of the ‘C’”, which depicted a college student with a beer in one hand, and a fishing pole in the other with a ‘C’ snared on its line. Tate doubted Jace had ever received a ‘C’ in his life.
