OLIVER
The meaning of her statement sank in, and I sat up, gaping at her.
“Twelve years?”
“Yes.”
“You mean as in a serious relationship, right?”
She couldn’t possibly be serious. I thought going bare with someone for the first time in twelve years was immense. This blew those thoughts out of the water.
She pulled herself into a sitting position. “No, I mean the last time I had sex with a partner was twelve years ago.” She crossed her arms, looking annoyed. “If I have to spell it out—you, Oliver. You are the first and only man I have ever had sex with.”
I stared at her, shocked. “How-how is that possible?” I sputtered. “You’re beautiful. Sexy. Funny.” I frowned. “Is it because of me?”
She tilted her head to the side, studying me. “I haven’t been carrying a torch for you all these years, if that’s what you’re asking,” she stated dryly. “I wasn’t pining away for you.”
I wasn’t sure how to handle her confession. I decided to go for light. “Was I just that good? It put you off all other men?”
She laughed at my words. “Yes. You peaked at eighteen. I have to confess, tonight was a letdown after experiencing you as a teenager.”
I had to laugh with her. We’d done a lot of learning together. Fun, messy, sometimes awkward learning. But it was always good as long as it was with Kassie.
“Explain this to me.”
She sighed, pushing her hair off her face. I tried not to notice the little mark by her ear where I’d nipped her. It was rather sexy, but I didn’t tell her. I wasn’t sure she’d agree.
“After you left, I was messed up for a while, and I did pine for you. I didn’t want to date anyone else. But I grew up and I started over. I dated a few nice local guys—”
I cut her off. “Anyone I know?”
She shrugged. “Jeremy Briggs. Ken Walden.”
I grimaced. “Both assholes in school.”
She fixed me with a look that shut me up. “Both matured. And here.”
“Right. Point taken.”
“But I wasn’t interested in them enough to have sex, frankly. It felt too personal, too intimate. And I knew they weren’t forever.”
“And no one since?” I was still in shock. She was too special to have been alone all this time.
“There was one man when I moved to Toronto. We met at the art gallery at an exhibit.” She smiled. “I had saved for weeks to buy a ticket.”
“I didn’t know you liked art.”
“I grew to appreciate it. It was a collection of Monet, who is an artist I love.”
“Ah.”
“We met and chatted. Had coffee after. That led to dinner.”
I shifted, not sure I wanted to hear about her falling in love.
“And you…?” I trailed off suggestively.
“Nothing. We dated. I liked Warren. He more than liked me. We saw each other when I could with the course load I was carrying and my part-time job. He never pushed, never forced me to be more or give more than I could.”
“Sounds like a decent guy.”
“More than decent. Almost perfect.”
I grunted. “No one is perfect.”
“I know. But he was incredible. However, something was missing. He introduced me to his mom one day. Surprised me at lunch when she joined us.”
“Oh. Bad?” I surmised.
“No. As wonderful as he was, so was she. He saw an associate and went to say hello. His mom, Aubrey, took the opportunity to enlighten me. I’ll never forget what she said, or even how kind she was in saying it.” She smiled sadly as she recounted the conversation.
“I can see why Warren is smitten,” she had said, patting my hand. “You are lovely.”
“Oh,” I replied, surprised. “Thank you.”
“But unless I’m mistaken, not in love with my son.”
I sputtered. “I beg your pardon?”
“He is already planning a future with you. Did you know that?”
“No.”
“I thought not. If you returned his feelings, you would be doing the same thing.” Before I could speak, she held up her hand.
“I’m not saying this to be unkind or butt in, but I hate to think of either of you getting hurt.
My son, of course, but I get the feeling you are the sort of girl who might say yes simply because of how wonderful he is, not because you’re in love.
And my dear, you’re too young. And we all deserve that sort of love that seeps into your soul, takes hold and cannot be shaken.
” She sipped her tea. “Warren deserves that, and frankly, so do you.”
She shook her head as if to clear the memories.
“I thought about what she said, and she was right. I liked Warren. Maybe half loved him. But not the right kind of love. Not the kind that made me want to be with him, be intimate, dedicate my life to him and have a family. There was no spark. Just a nice little flame to keep me warm and safe. And we both deserved better than that.”
“What happened?” I asked despite myself.
“He came over that week, and before I could say the words, he said them for me.” She laughed quietly. “He broke up with me and made me feel good about it. That was the sort of man he was.”
“Sounds like an okay guy,” I agreed grudgingly.
She nodded. “He sent me a letter about eighteen months later with a picture of himself, his wife, and their adorable baby. On the back, he wrote a little note.”
“What did it say?”
“Real love is beautiful. Don’t settle.”
“Fucking poet too,” I muttered.
She shook her head in amusement at my tone. “I threw myself into school. Work. Mom died, the horrible thing at the office happened, and I moved here. Too busy for love and not interested in sex for the sake of. I guess I still want it to mean something.”
“And what did tonight mean for you?” I asked, suddenly desperate to hear her answer.
“Maybe just a chapter closing. A nice goodbye.”
“That’s it?” I scoffed. “One and done? Thanks, Oliver, for the amazing orgasms. By the way, rent is due Tuesday?”
She laughed. “No. I don’t know what tonight was. But I guess I’m trying to say, I don’t expect anything from you.”
“What if I’m not done with you? What if I expect something?”
Her eyes widened. “Like?”
“Does it have to be once?”
“You’re only here for a few more weeks. Then you go back to LA.”
“And we can’t be together while I’m here?”
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted that.”
“I want you. Same thing. But what do you want? Can you see yourself having sex with me with no commitment? A few weeks of passion and laughs? Some dinners out, maybe a show in Toronto if something was playing? Friends with benefits, with both of us knowing the rules this time? Parting as friends with lots of great memories to think about when we’re done? ”
“That’s a lot of questions.”
“They all need one answer, and then I’ll let you have what you want.”
“Which is?”
I grinned. “Me. All night long. And any other time you want me.”
She blinked and bit her lip. I could see the thoughts, questions, and doubts racing through her mind. Weighing the pros and cons. Worrying, wanting. Right and wrong warred with each other in her head.
“We’re both adults now. Grown up. It’s nobody’s business but our own. We can keep it quiet. Between us. I won’t expose you to gossip or the press, if that concerns you. I promise you that.”
“Why do you want this?” she asked quietly.
“I find you even sexier than I did back then—which I didn’t think possible. You make me laugh. I like being just Oliver with you. I like reconnecting with you. We were fucking epic in bed. I’d like more of that with you.”
I leaned close. “Just think of the stories you could tell your grandkids, Kassie. How you had wild sex with a Hollywood playboy in your misspent youth.”
She snorted. “Hardly my misspent youth, Oliver. And at this point, I’m not sure I’ll ever have kids, never mind grandkids.”
“You will,” I assured her. “You’re too special not to.”
“But not with you.”
“No. I’m not built that way. I proved that to both of us. But you are. And one day, some fucking lucky asshole will have it all with you.”
“I see.”
The air felt too serious all of a sudden. “You’re tempted. I can tell,” I said with a droll wink. “I’ll even let you take a picture or two for proof.”
“You’re not worried I’d sell them to the paps?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “No. I trust you implicitly, which is why I’m asking you.
You would never hurt me that way.” I took her hand.
“And I won’t hurt you again. That’s why I’m being honest. But if you say no, I’ll kiss you goodnight and think about what just happened as one of the best nights of my life when I’m old and gray.
But if you say yes, I’ll make sure the next few weeks fulfill any fantasy you’ve ever had.
And I’ll stick so close, you’ll be thrilled when I leave. ”
She worried her lip then leaned forward. “Why don’t you kiss me anyway, Oliver Hart, and see what happens?”
I cupped the back of her neck. “That’s my girl.”
Kassie
I woke in the morning, the skies overcast and gray. Oliver was gone, having left while it was still dark, pressing a kiss to my brow. “I’ll see you later, lovely,” he murmured. “Go back to sleep.”
I had rolled over and pulled his pillow to me, his scent already soaked into the fabric, and done just that.
After we’d made love, had sex, whatever he wanted to call it, we’d lain in my bed, cuddled close and talking about everything and nothing.
He told me more about Annie, his agent, and her gruff and rough style.
“She is known for her no-nonsense ways,” he mused. “But if she has your back, she’ll fight hard.” He chuckled. “And dirty, if she has to. Her reputation is legendary.”
“You like her a lot.”
“She believed in me and helped me. She has always been honest with me. Brutally, at times,” he admitted. “But never mean. She cares for few people, but those she does care about, she protects.”
“And you’re one of them?”
“I like to think so. She has other successful clients, but I think we have a closer relationship than some. Not that she’d ever admit it to my face,” he added, tucking an arm under his head and using his other arm to keep me close.
“Not married?”
“Nope. Her affairs are supposedly numerous and short, at least when she was younger. I’ve seen pictures. She was a stunner with a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. I guess she used that to her advantage.”