Chapter 15 Olivier #2
Tears filled her eyes, and without thinking, I reached over the bar to rub my hand against her cheek.
She flinched and I started reversing course, but the look in her eyes showed surprise more than anything else.
She didn’t expect kindness, especially not from me.
She didn’t actually share what her dreams might be, and after pressing her on it to no avail, it occurred to me that even thinking about your dreams is a luxury for some.
It broke my heart a little. I put my hand on hers again and this time she didn’t react.
Her skin was smooth. So soft. Next, I ran my thumb against her bottom lip.
She flinched again but not as hard, and a current coursed through me.
“I wish I knew you before,” I said. I hoped she heard what I meant: I wished I’d met you before I met Cassie.
“You don’t even know me now,” she replied, taking my hand and placing it back on the sticky counter.
“What if I want to?”
“Oh, because wanting something is enough to make it happen?”
What first came to mind: I want you.
“Quite the opposite,” I said. “I thought if I just put my mind to it…but look at me.” I glanced around the room and then down at myself. “Nothing has worked out how I wanted it to.”
Part of me felt pathetic, admitting that to her. But it was freeing, too. I couldn’t remember ever letting my guard down like this.
We didn’t even drink that much; I can’t blame it on the alcohol.
Over the next few hours, she poured us two more gin and tonics and only stepped away a handful of times when a patron came to order a drink.
It was past midnight on a Tuesday, and the bar had emptied fast. Even her colleague had gone.
I couldn’t tell how long we’d been alone.
Since we’d started talking, it had felt like there was no one else in the room.
“I have to close up,” she said when the clock ticked over to 1:00 a.m.
Her voice was laced with sadness. At least that’s how I heard it.
How I wanted it to be. Right then I wasn’t in a smelly bar drinking cheap gin, beholden to a shitty wife, who at this point seemed to care so little about our marriage that it felt like I’d made it up in my head.
I needed this night. Couldn’t let it end.
“Don’t,” I heard myself say. “Can we stay here a little longer?”
She shook her head as she stared at me. A loaded moment passed before she said in a whisper, “We can’t.”
Then, not taking her eyes off me, she came out from behind the counter and slowly walked toward the restrooms, which were down a hallway behind me.
I turned around and watched in silence. She’d switched off the music, and I could hear the sound of my own heartbeat.
I felt entranced. Cassie didn’t exist anymore.
In fact, we hadn’t talked anymore about her all night. Already she couldn’t get between us.
I peeled my eyes off Reese to down the last of my drink, then made a decision.
If she turned around before reaching the door, it would mean something.
An invitation, perhaps. I wasn’t sure what I would do, but the air was starting to feel stale again, the tension in my shoulders coming back.
Reese was only a few meters away, and I missed her already. That made no sense, but I did.
She turned around.
Her eyes were already trained on me, though I couldn’t read the expression in them.
In that moment, I’d have given everything I had to find out what she was thinking.
She stood still, watching me. I knew that if I got up now, there would be no going back.
I was with Cassie, and Reese was well aware of that.
There was a clear line in the sand. Getting up meant crossing it.
I got up.
I got up and the corners of her red lips turned up ever so slightly.
Not a smile, exactly. An encouragement. That’s how I took it.
I had no idea what I was doing. What we were doing.
Because she was in this, right? She’d turned around.
The way she looked at me…deeply and without blinking.
I walked over to her, watching her chest rise and fall, an exquisite feeling running through me.
I had never felt this way before. Over the years, I’d grown more certain that the life I hoped for—the success and the glitziness and the money—I had to pursue alone.
And now I was about to fuck it up for good. But it already was, wasn’t it? In that moment, it didn’t matter anyway. I couldn’t stop my legs from bringing me to Reese. All night I’d inhaled her perfume, something earthy but subtle, and now it was filling the air between us again.
She didn’t move away or toward me. I was close enough to notice the freckles on her cheeks, and I still couldn’t have said how she felt. It had fascinated me all night, how unreadable she was, even when she shared the most intimate details of her life.
We were centimeters apart now. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it. She did the same. No words came out. Instead I ran my hands through her hair and pressed my body against hers, our chests touching, her warmth becoming mine.
Her own hands wrapped around my waist. She pulled me toward her as she leaned against the wall.
My nose gently rubbed against hers. Her sweet breath melted into mine.
I wanted to cherish the moment, but was too eager for the next.
Our kiss was hungry, winded, our bodies almost still.
Because if we moved, if we made any noise, then this would feel real.
It was a small world. Anyone could see us.
Small-town folks knew everyone around. Cassie could easily find out.
It was risky, so very risky. And it was too late already.
We still hadn’t said a word when Reese glanced toward the restroom door. A jolt of anticipation raced through me.
And then…she pushed me away.
“I can’t,” she said.
I opened my mouth to protest. She felt what I was feeling, too. Right? I wasn’t imagining it. But also, I couldn’t—shouldn’t—do anything to lead her into this. I couldn’t be the one who made it happen. I wasn’t going to screw up everything for no reason.
“Please,” she added.
“If that’s what you want,” I whispered.
She swallowed hard but didn’t respond. So I did what I had to do.
I let her go.