Chapter Twenty-four
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
NATALIE
Which is worse: saying something you wouldn’t normally say when you're drunk or when you're half asleep?
In most cases, I’d say when you’re drunk because, wow, you can say a lot of stupid stuff, and even through a slur, it always comes out clear. But in my case, I’m going with when you’re half asleep and ready to throw caution to the wind.
I just wrote a scene, and I thought about you the entire time.
Oh god. I think I’m going to be sick.
And I wanted to be alone with you.
Yep, I said that too.
The worst part is, I meant it. All of it. I just didn’t plan to have word vomit in the late hours of the night.
The one question I still can’t seem to answer is why I said it.
What did I think was going to happen? That one day after we admitted our feelings, on which we both somewhat silently agreed not to act, we’d change our minds and chance ruining ten years of friendship? That I’d say the word, and he’d jump on me because he has no self-control?
Please. This is Tobias.
Every move he makes has been well-thought out. He might be the kind of person to wait until the last minute to make a choice, but that’s because he’s considered all the angles.
But me?
I clearly do not take that approach.
It’s fine. It’s totally fine.
“Are you okay today?” Quinn asks as we walk down Lovers’s main street to Grandma Betty’s house. There are cute boutiques in the middle of town that we both like to frequent when we’re here, and today seemed like a good day to do it. Especially since she invited me while Tobias was still in the shower, and I was ready to do anything that wasn’t facing him.
I mean, hell, what if he read that scene? Does he like it? Does he think I’m crazy? He’s done nothing but compliment my writing style since we started this book, and maybe this is where he cuts me off and tells me that I’m average.
Shit, would that mean I’m average in bed?
“Natalie, hey.” Quinn snaps her fingers in front of my face and waves her other hand, which is holding her coffee, high to grab my attention.
“Hi, yes, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” She pauses on the sidewalk, smiling at an older couple walking past us. “You seem distracted.”
Sooooo distracted.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about this book so much, I’m struggling to multitask.”
“That’s right.” She beams. “You and Tobias are writing a book together. How’s it going? It’s bad if you’re so stressed.”
“No, it’s good. He’s a great writer, and we seem to have this effortless flow together, but I want it to be good. I’ve always wanted to write, and I really hope it’s helping him too.”
“I know. I want him to be out of this funk.”
“Me too. He’s such a brilliant writer. It might be crazy to think I could write a book with him and bam! problem solved.”
We start walking again, and I have to hold my hand up to block the sun since I forgot my sunglasses.
“Honestly, I think having you back in his life has helped on its own.”
“What do you mean?” I’ve always been in his life, so her comment doesn’t make sense to me.
“I mean, you’re not dating anyone or engaged anymore, so he doesn’t have to share you with anyone. You’re his safe place. The one he goes to when life is crazy. You’re his air in a sense, so writing a book together is perfect.”
“I’m his air?” I ask with a laugh. “Have you been reading his books?”
She laughs and nudges me. “I’m serious, Natalie. He’s different when you’re around. He’s happier.”
“I like being around him too. Hence, why we’re so close.”
Last night comes back to me. The things I said to him were not best-friend-approved terminology.
I should rewrite the scene.
But it was so good.
“If this book thing works out, do you think you’ll write more?”
“I haven't really thought about it.”
“Well, what was your plan for after you got married?”
“Be married, I guess. Griffin had plans, and he added me to it. I just assumed I'd keep working with Nora, and that was that.”
“Was that going to make you happy?”
“I wasn’t not happy about it.”
“Did it make you feel excited?”
“What’s with the questions?” I ask. Damn, she keeps firing them at me.
“I’m just making conversation. I’ve known you as long as my brother has, and it just occurred to me that I never knew your goals in life.”
“Oh, well, writing a book and being published is pretty huge up there.”
“Then how come you never did it till now?”
I shrug. “I thought about starting one about a year after I met Griffin, but he told me it was hard to make a living off that, and he shared some stuff he read online, and it turned me off it.”
His lack of support for something I wanted in life should have been my first red flag.
“So, what made you change your mind this time around?”
Tobias did. The day I mentioned it to him, I knew he might not enjoy the idea of writing a book together, but he’d never talk down to my dreams. He’s always been very supportive of what I want to do with my life.
He was even going to walk away from our friendship because he thought I was happy with Griffin. I’m very aware now that he would do anything for me, even if it meant he lost in the end.
Another valid reason these feelings I have for him need to remain just that: feelings.
We change the conversation to Quinn’s travel blog and her plans for the next couple of years. She wants to return to Scotland and Paris soon, but being here with her brother and grandma makes her miss her family.
“Our parents are pretty free-spirited and travel plenty on their own, so I’m sure they would be happy to see me go back, but I think Grandma Betty loves having us here. It doesn’t matter that she’s been sleeping next door; I think she likes having a full house.”
“Oh, I couldn’t agree more,” I say as we reach the sidewalk to the front door. Tobias is waiting, leaning against the doorframe. His gaze makes my skin tingle. I meet his eyes, a feeling of excitement flooding through me. He smirks quickly before licking his lips to hide it.
My heart races, and I take a breath.
He read the scene. I know he did.
“Please tell me you haven’t been standing there since we left,” Quinn says.
“I haven’t.”
“So, you just happened to be here when we walk up?”
He only nods, his gaze flicking to his sister for split second before settling back on me.
“Do you want to write today? I have some ideas,” he says.
Oh, I bet he does. But also, he’s got that smile on his face and his voice is hopeful. Outside of my worry over this scene and last night, the whole purpose of writing together was to help him, so I can’t say no. Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to.
These feelings between us are trouble.
“Yes, I do want to write today.”
“You two have fun,” Quinn says, hugging me before disappearing into the house.
“Should we set up in the living room?” I ask, refusing to look into the eyes that now make my body feel like it’s about to lose control.
“Is that where you want to write?” he asks.
“I can write anywhere,” I tell him.
“I think I need a change of scenery. How do you feel about writing offline today?”
Finally, I glance up. “What does that mean?”
“It means we won’t be writing in Google Docs. It’ll be a fresh scene, on a Word document, in a place with no service.”
“Oh, so legit offline. I thought it was writer lingo I didn’t know,” I say with a laugh. “Sure. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. Let’s go.” He bounces down the front steps, his woodsy scent drafting by me.
“I need to grab my stuff.”
“It’s in the truck.”
I turn around and cross my arms. “So, I didn’t really have an option?”
“Nope.” He smirks again.
With my shopping bags in hand, I move toward his truck.
He has ideas, huh? Let’s just hope they have nothing to do with the scene I wrote last night. I can talk a big game when Tobias isn’t near me, but when he is, all my worries disappear, and for a girl who’s not sure what to do with these new feelings, that could be dangerous.
* * *
Almost a half hour later, we’re sitting at a picnic table near Lovers Lake. There is a slight breeze, giving me a small chill, but Tobias has planned for this and hands me my sweater and then a blanket.
“I’ve never written outside before,” I say. My gaze floats over our side-by-side screens to the lake that, despite the breeze, looks like glass.
“Simon swears this is the best way to write, and so I give it a try from time to time. I’ve written some of my best scenes outside, so he might be on to something.”
“And what scene are we writing out here today?” I ask, propping one elbow onto the table and resting my face in my hand as I watch him. “Are they doing something outside?”
“Actually, I was thinking of the fight scene we discussed last night and how we wanted more oomph.”
Relief floods through me, and I swear I hear birds chirping. He’s not talking about that scene. He’s talking about a safe zone scene that will end with just a kiss.
“Okay, do you want me to rewrite the whole thing?”
“No, just the ending, but let’s write it together.”
He pulls up the draft of that scene and scrolls about a third of the way through until he shows me where we should start the rewrites.
He goes into detail about the feelings we should include and the fire they need to give the reader, and even though I’m listening, I get sucked into his passion for writing. He really loves this, and I really love watching him talk about it.
“I think he should follow her outside,” he says. “And call out her name. The baby is with the grandparents, so we don’t have to worry about that angle. We should actually use it to our advantage and give these two the moment they deserve.”
“Does she just stop and turn,” I ask, “or does she try to keep walking away?”
“I think she keeps walking for a moment and then turns, ready to argue.”
I smile. “Let’s start with that.”
He starts writing, but I stop him when the hero bumps into her from behind.
“I don’t think it really works like that. He wouldn’t be that close. It seems too easy and unnatural.”
“Yeah, he would.”
“No, why would he?”
“Because he’s following her.”
“I know, but that seems like we’re forcing the action.”
“Stand up. Let’s see,” he says, rising from the table.
He wants to act out this scene.
No thanks.
I shake my head.
“It’s fine; we can leave it the way you have it. You’re the expert and know what works.”
“Don’t just say that to please me. I want to show you how this works.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal.”
“Stand up, Natalie,” he says, and my heart hammers at his command, my legs doing as they're told.
I toss up my hands. “Now what?”
“Turn and walk away from me like you’re mad at me.”
I grin. “I don’t know how to fake that.”
“Just do it.”
I shake my head, feeling silly but also excited. “How fast do I walk?”
“As fast as you want to get away from me.”
I narrow my eyes, turn, and then march off with a huff.
I’m about four strides away when he calls out, “Natalie, stop.”
His tone ignites something inside me, but I ignore it and count to three before I stop and turn, assuming that’s how the heroine in our story would do it.
Tobias is there in my space. His body rushes mine so quickly that I stumble back, only to be steadied on my feet by his hands gripping my waist.
His breathing is fast, as is mine, and our lips are inches apart. His chest is brushed up against my own, and even through our clothes, I swear I feel his heart pounding, the beat matching mine as I wait for whatever happens next.
I don’t think this is what we had in mind for our characters, but the move is more realistic than I thought.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“This is a lot closer than we wrote it.”
“It is,” he agrees. “I like this better.”
“So do I.”
But neither of us move. “What should happen next?”
“Well,” he says in a husky tone, “he should move his hand to her cheek, like this.”
His hand cups my face, his thumb brushing under my chin, gently guiding me to look up.
“Their eyes should lock.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “I like that.”
“Now it’s her turn.”
I lay my palm flat on his chest. “She’d touch him here.”
“Why?”
“She’d tell herself it was to keep control of the distance, but really it’s to see if his heart is beating as fast as hers.”
“Is it?”
“It’s faster.”
“Because he wants her. He craves her.”
“And she wants him.”
“But they’re resisting.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because of all the things that could go wrong,” I tell him.
“But what about all the things that could go right?”
His words do nothing to slow the beat inside my chest; in fact, they increase it. Are we still talking about the book? My eyes find his to see if I can read them and find the meaning of this moment.
The only thing I see in them is desire, and that’s a look I’ve never seen in his eyes before.
It’s one I’ve never seen anyone give me before.
“Then I think,” I start and close my eyes, biting my lower lip, “I think she’d want him to whisper two little words right before he finally kisses her.”
“And what are those two words, Dove?”
“Fuck it,” I whisper.
Keeping my eyes closed, I wait, praying he repeats after me.
“Fuck it,” he says with a growl, and then his lips are on mine, devouring me and stealing my next breath. My arms wrap around his neck while his circle my waist, pulling my body flush to his. His tongue slips into my mouth, dancing with mine as we kiss.
All worries of this moment fade away as I melt in his arms. Our lips move in sync as if this is something we’ve done many times before. It feels right.
His hands smooth over my hips to my backside and over my butt. He squeezes, drawing a moan out of me that I never knew could happen from a kiss.
He pulls away, resting his forehead against mine. “That was even better than I imagined.”
“You imagined it?”
He chuckles.
“After the last two nights, how can you even doubt that I did?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Feelings come and go.”
“Don’t do that,” he says, pressing his lips softly to mine again. “Don’t be shy now.”
I kiss him back, my fist gripping his shirt to keep him close.
“But we don’t do this,” I tell him. “We don’t kiss.”
“I think we should start.”
There’s no point in trying to hide the giant smile I know is coming.
“You do?”
“Oh, yeah, but we should probably finish this scene first.”
He grabs my hand, pulling me back to the table. We both sit for maybe ten seconds before he slams his computer shut, turns to face me with one leg on each side of the bench.
“You know what? Fuck that. I tasted you, and I need more.”
His lips are on mine again in an instant, and for the first time ever, I make out with Tobias Banks.