Chapter Twelve ~ Fiona #2
He echoes my sigh. “I didn’t mean it in a backhanded way, Fiona. We’re both going to have to stop assuming the worst about each other if this is going to work. We can’t walk around on eggshells, afraid an offhand comment is going to set the other one off.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
He shifts in his seat, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
We come to a stop sign, and after a quick glance around to make sure the streets are still deserted, he turns to look at me.
“I’m sorry. I understand why you think everything I say is a dig, because for a long time, it was.
It was like I literally couldn’t help myself, even when I knew I was being an asshole. ”
Headlights flash in the rearview mirror as a car approaches behind us. Nathan returns his attention to the road and makes a right turn. “I can’t promise it’ll never happen again, but I’m trying. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say. “I appreciate that you’re trying. And for what it’s worth, that may have been my first taste of freedom, but when I was with you, I was with you. My heart and mind were here, even when I dreamed of far-off places.”
“I know.” The words are barely audible over the hum of the engine and the low music coming from the speakers.
Nathan clears his throat, his voice stronger when he continues.
“I think maybe that’s part of why I thought you wouldn’t really leave, or that if you did, you’d come back.
I kept expecting you to pull away or distance yourself, or to space out and get lost in daydreams and plans, but you never did. ”
I did, though. In the year before I left, when I was certain I’d do anything to make my dreams of travelling happen, I spent hours in my room poring over guidebooks and tour brochures, reading blogs, and making endless lists of places I wanted to visit and things I wanted to do.
I never shared that with Nathan because I didn’t want to rub it in his face or make him feel like I couldn’t wait to leave.
I couldn’t wait, but it never had anything to do with him.
“What are you thinking?” he asks when I’m quiet for a few minutes.
“I was going to suggest we leave the past in the past and stick to the here and now, but I don’t know how that’s possible when you have a literal lifetime of history with someone.
We had so many good times together. I don’t want to avoid talking about the past in order to avoid emotional landmines. ”
“We don’t have to,” he says. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”
This is progress, and I’ll take it. We don’t have to figure everything out in one night or even one week or one month. I’m just grateful to have Nathan back in my life in a meaningful way. Wanting to lighten the mood, I say, “Now I’m craving Cheezies. I haven’t had them in years.”
“I’d stop and get you some if anything was open this late.”
I smile at the offer. “It’s the thought that counts.”
He glances at me as he rolls to a stop at another intersection. “The caveat would be that you wouldn’t be eating them in my truck.”
I laugh, and Nathan shocks me by laughing with me.
The sound is like music to my ears. The low vibration of it hits me somewhere deep inside, resonating throughout me.
They say laughter is the best medicine, and I understand that now.
Nathan’s laughs are rare and often too brief, but there’s something healing about them.
The ever-present ache in my heart since Dad died is still very much there, but the pain isn’t quite as sharp.
Since we’re heading in the opposite direction from our street, I settle back in my seat and get comfortable.
Nathan asks if I’m warm enough, and I say yes.
He turns up the volume on the radio, putting me further at ease since it means he doesn’t expect us to talk.
When we were teens, sometimes we’d fill our drives with constant chatter, but more often than not, we simply listened to music while enjoying each other’s company.
For the first time in weeks, my mind goes quiet.
It reminds me of how I feel when I’m travelling.
Sure, there are times when I’m stressed, or my mind races as I piece together logistics and schedules, and keep track of clients and itineraries, but there always comes a point where my mind is blissfully blank, and I’m living fully in the moment.
There’s always something new to see, taste, and experience, even in places I’ve visited dozens of times, and it’s exciting to introduce others to those new things along the way.
I steal the occasional glance at Nathan, pleased to see he appears as relaxed as I am.
His left elbow is propped on the window frame while his right hand holds the steering wheel loosely.
I remember when he first started driving, he was strictly a ‘hands at ten and two’ guy.
By the end of his first year of driving, he’d gained more confidence and loosened up.
He’s always been one of the people I’ve trusted most behind the wheel.
“You’re staring,” he says.
I startle at his voice. He’s right, although I wasn’t doing it consciously. “Sorry. My mind was drifting.”
“Where to?”
“I was sort of…superimposing the past on the present,” I say. “Imagining you back then versus now.”
“Oh, you mean shy, gangly, and awkward as fuck?”
I let out a surprised laugh. “Shy, yes, but only around people you didn’t know well. I never saw you as gangly or awkward, though.”
“No? How did you see me?”
The first word that pops into my mind isn’t one I should admit out loud. It would likely wipe that tiny smile off Nathan’s face. But it’s the truth, and now I can’t think of anything else. “Mine.”
His gaze darts in my direction, and I offer up a helpless little shrug. He shifts in his seat, gripping the steering wheel with both hands.
“You haven’t changed that much otherwise,” I blurt, feeling a sudden need to fill the silence.
“Physically, yes. You’ve…filled out.” And has he ever.
Tall and broad, with lean muscles from all the manual labour he does.
Nathan might think he was awkward and gangly as a teen, but I always thought he was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
God help me, I still do. “You’re the same in other ways, though.
Still loyal, steady, and dependable with a huge heart. ”
He huffs. “You make me sound like a golden retriever.”
“Well, you’re starting to look like one with your hair growing out like this.
” Without thinking, I reach over and run my fingers through the longer bits of hair covering his ears.
I go completely still when I realize what I’m doing.
“Sorry,” I say, wrenching my hand away. This little stroll down memory lane is messing with my mind. And my hormones.
Nathan shifts again, returning to his earlier, casual position of one hand on the steering wheel. “I suppose there are worse things than being loyal, dependable, and whatever else you said.”
“Don’t forget the part about the huge heart,” I say, and his lips twitch.
A familiar cat-shaped mailbox catches my eye, and I become aware of our surroundings.
We’ve just turned onto our street. Disappointment stirs in my chest as we approach my house.
I’m not ready to return to the silence of my childhood bedroom, where I’ll likely lie awake for hours.
More than that, I’m not ready to say good night to Nathan.
I remain silent as we pass my house. We pull into Nathan’s driveway a moment later, and he turns off the truck.
“Thanks for saving me from the rain.” I reluctantly unwrap myself from the warmth of my blanket cocoon. “And for the drive. It was just what I needed.”
He nods, staring straight ahead. “Me too, actually. You know what I need now?” He turns those blue-grey eyes on me, pinning me in place with my hand hovering over the door handle. “A glass of whiskey before bed. Join me?”
By ‘join me’, I know he means for whiskey and not for bed, but a wave of lust surges inside me nonetheless.
Something about being in such close quarters with him tonight and seeing him regularly these last few weeks is wearing down the wall I put up years ago separating my romantic—and sexual—feelings for Nathan from my platonic ones.
Now they’re muddled and blending together the way they once did.
None of that stops me from accepting his invitation, though.