13. Natalie #2
I glanced out the window and saw that we still had a long way to go.
No matter if I took the train or caught a ride with someone, the trip from Manhattan to my apartment always felt like it took an eternity, and the conversation during this drive was making it feel even longer.
I stared out at the Brooklyn Bridge while I gathered my confidence to keep talking.
Since we were in full confessional mode, I decided to open up even more.
“No, if you look at my history it sort of makes sense.” I swallowed the emotions welling at the base of my throat and forced myself to keep talking.
“I’m a former foster kid. I don’t even remember my parents—they died when I was a baby.
My childhood was spent packing up all of my belongings in a Hefty bag and moving from house to house.
I didn’t even have a proper suitcase. It made me feel worthless, like I was trash. ”
James made a pained noise and reached out to take my hand again. I forced myself not to thread my fingers through his. He was offering me comfort, not intimacy.
“No one ever wanted me to stay.” My voice was a whisper as I admitted my deepest, darkest secret to him.
“All those foster homes, and there was only one person who I ever got close to—my foster sister Steph. We’re still best friends and roommates, and I love her more than anything…
but it does something to you, growing up knowing that there’s no adult you can turn to.
I was a confused, scared, unhappy kid just looking for someone to love her, but I kept getting tossed out the door, over and over.
To this day it makes me wonder if I’m not…
” I struggled to say it. “Not loveable.”
I cleared my throat to keep from succumbing to the tears welling in my eyes.
“Natalie.” James squeezed my hand. “Look at me.”
I didn’t want him to see the raw emotion I knew was written all over my face. I was embarrassed that I’d confided in him, because the man was my boss. There was no reason for him to get mixed up in my mess. I stared at my lap.
“Look at me,” he said a little more forcefully.
I finally composed myself enough to raise my eyes to meet his, and his expression was so tender that I almost didn’t recognize him.
“Unfortunately, you’ve spent your life mostly surrounded by people who didn’t appreciate your special magic.
But that’s on them, not you. I hate that you were hurt so badly, and so many times.
But the way they treated you shouldn’t define the way you feel about yourself.
I know there’s a part of you that’s still hurting, but I also know that you’re willing to fight for yourself.
You’re a warrior. You lead with your fists.
I know firsthand what you can do with a mop. ”
I managed a half-smile.
“Those hurts are in your past. I hope you feel like things are different now. You have a bright future, and people all around you who appreciate you and want to see you succeed.” He paused and placed his other hand on top of mine. “Like me.”
I sniffled, working hard to suppress my sadness. The fact that James was holding my hand barely registered, because I was too focused on not crying.
“The way people treat you is no indication of your worth,” he continued. “It’s a reflection of their shortcomings and hang-ups. Everyone at Branson thinks you’re so special. And I hope you understand that.”
“Everyone at work,” I said. “But that’s because I always give one hundred and ten percent.
I figured out when I was just a kid that if I worked harder than everyone else, I’d get approval from teachers, from my foster parents—from my bosses, eventually.
But being useful, being valuable…that’s not the same as being loved or being wanted for me, not just for what I can do. ”
“Natalie, I’ve not been honest enough with you,” James said in a low voice. “I said that your colleagues think the world of you, but what I meant is, I do. And not just because of your work. You’re always in my thoughts. Hell, you’re in my dreams. You’re a…a distraction.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer him because he almost sounded upset, like he was angry about the fact that I was in his head.
James turned to me, still clutching my hand. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stop thinking about you, wanting to—”
“Wanting to what?” I whispered.
“This.” He untangled his hand from mine and leaned towards me slowly, then placed his finger under my chin and drew me closer to him. He paused, his blue eyes scanning my face, giving me the opportunity to back away.
It was pointless because all I’d wanted to do since we sat down next to each other was throw myself at him. The drive had finished the process of revealing a completely different side of James the bosshole, the kinder side of him that his brother had hinted at, that I’d seen glimpses of before.
And I liked him. So much.
I leaned closer until our lips were centimeters apart. Everything would change if we kissed. Absolutely everything. The moment seemed endless while we both waited to see what would happen next.
“You’re killing me,” James finally whispered, placing his hand on the back of my head and gently drawing me to him.
I melted against him as our lips connected.
The kiss felt a little desperate, like we couldn’t get enough of the heat coursing through us.
I grabbed onto his shirt near the collar, crumpling the fabric in my hand.
I wanted to make sure that he couldn’t slip away from me, that he wouldn’t try to break off what we were finally doing.
We were at an awkward angle sitting side by side, and I started to move my leg over his so I could slide onto his lap. I wanted to grind against him, circle my arms around his neck and possess him. I wanted to feel his strong hands clutching my waist, and get lost in his arms.
This kiss, the way our mouths moved in tandem, was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I felt unhinged with desire, and all I could think was keep going.
And then the car lurched to a stop and the driver rapped on the divider.
We jumped apart in shock. How had we gotten to a low-rent, far-flung neighborhood in Brooklyn so damn quickly?
I touched my fingertips to my lips because they felt electrified and a little tender after just a few minutes of kissing. I wondered what my body would feel like if we’d had more time.
“Um…I guess we’re here,” I said, scrambling to grab my bag.
“Indeed.”
“Thanks for the ride.” I shut my eyes in embarrassment. Worst word choice ever. “I mean, thanks for getting me home safely.”
“Happy to. Can I walk you to your door?” James asked.
I pictured him escorting me up the stairs and then the awkward moment where we had to figure out a way to say goodbye even though we’d just been making out in the back of his Mercedes.
This man was my boss; it didn’t matter that he’d just kissed me like no one else ever.
Tomorrow, we were going to be forced to sit across a conference table and pretend that we were just normal colleagues and not two people who desperately wanted to fuck.
Did we, though?
Well, I only knew for a fact that that it was what I wanted, but based on the way James had kissed me, it was a safe bet he was more than willing to get naked with me.
“No, that’s okay!” I finally squeaked out. “It’s a safe neighborhood, I’ll be fine, thanks.”
I hopped out of the car and leaned over to say goodbye. James was staring at me in the half-light, looking hungry enough to pull me back inside to pick up where we’d left off.
And I wished he would.
“See you tomorrow,” I said, still pretending that everything was normal.
James let out a long sigh, as if he realized that I wasn’t going to change my mind. “Yes, you will. Good night, Natalie.”
I slammed the door shut and waited for the car to drive off, but James had clearly instructed the driver to wait until I was inside. I jogged up the walkway and gave a little wave as I darted into my building, and the car finally slid away.
Alone in the tiny lobby, I leaned back against the wall to catch my breath.
How was I going to ever look at that gorgeous mouth of his again and not think about how it felt to have it pressed against mine?