Chapter 17
The ride home is a lot better than the drive to the restaurant. I ask Wes more about his time in high school, and then he asks me questions about my previous relationships.
I’ve dated on and off since high school, but it’s usually a few early dates and then nothing. Like my ill-fated romance with the intense guy at the college party who took my virginity, it starts and then stops before it barely begins.
I don’t know why. I’ve never known. There’s nothing wrong with me.
I simply don’t inspire the kind of deep passion that causes men to want to commit.
As a sophomore in college, I stumbled into a boyfriend, a nice country boy who basically did anything I said, and I managed to keep him for more than a year until even he decided he didn’t feel the way he was supposed to feel in a long-term relationship.
Then last year I dated a man for almost six months. He was smart and interesting and an electrical engineer, but he lived in Baltimore.
After seeing each other a couple of times a month for several months, he told me bluntly that he liked me, but the commute was too long for anything serious.
That’s the extent of my serious romantic entanglements.
I’m a little ashamed to admit my limited experience. Not because I think Wes will have a problem with it but because it shows me as somehow undesirable.
And I don’t want to be undesirable to him.
But he’s been honest with me this evening, so I’m honest with him too. I give him the full rundown, answer a few questions for clarification, and then wait to see what he’ll say.
“That’s it?” he asks after a minute.
“Yes, that’s it. Why? Is it lacking in some way?”
“No, not lacking. I just always imagined you besieged with admirers.”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re beautiful. You’ve always been the prettiest girl around. And it seemed like you went out on dates regularly.”
“I went on first and second dates. Not much past then.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” He does look baffled. Like there are several puzzle pieces missing that keep the picture from revealing itself.
“Well, I’m not lying.”
“I didn’t think you were. I just don’t understand it. How could a guy who got to go out with you not keep asking for more dates?”
I hide behind my hair for a minute, wanting to sink into a puddle of pleasure and self-consciousness. “I think you might have had the wrong idea about me all this time.”
“I have not. Everyone else is clearly out of their minds.”
I giggle, mostly a cover for a wave of sappy feelings. “I don’t think so, but I appreciate the thought. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I told you my dating history. Now tell me yours.”
“You probably know most of it.”
“Why would I? We didn’t go to college together, and I didn’t know much about your life when you lived in DC. I know you haven’t dated much since you returned, but I assumed that was because there are limited options in town and you were focused on your career.”
“That was mostly it. I had a couple of girlfriends in college, but they were definitely college relationships. I was never all in. In DC, I dated someone for three years.”
“Three years? Wow, that’s a not-insignificant amount of time.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Who was she?” I’m immediately jealous of this mystery woman, who I visualize as sleek and successful and strikingly glamorous.
“Her name was Roslyn. She was in law school.”
Of course she was. Brilliant and professionally successful. “How did you meet her?”
“She lived down the hall in my apartment building. I liked her. We had a good time together. She was busy with law school, but I was busy too, so we were a decent fit. I really did try to make it work.”
“So why did you break up with her?”
“I didn’t.”
My heart sinks as I realize what he’s saying. “So she broke your heart?”
“No.” His eyes are focused on the road in front of him, illuminated by the glow of the headlights, but he huffs out a dry laugh. “Not at all.”
“So what happened?”
“She finished law school and did an internship, then got a full-time job at another branch office of the law firm. She said it was a good time to end things.”
“Oh. Well, it sounds like it was.” This doesn’t sound nearly as bad as I was fearing.
I don’t need to resent some innocent faceless woman for winning and then breaking Wes’s heart.
“It was. She was right. She said… She said she always felt like a placeholder with me.”
“What?”
“That’s what she said. That she felt like a placeholder. That I was going through the motions with her when I really wanted someone else.”
My throat tightens, and I have to speak around the block. “Who did you… Who did you want?”
“Oh, she didn’t mean anyone in particular. Just that she felt like I never really wanted her enough. I thought I was trying my best, but I realized she was right. I liked her. But did I really like her enough to date for three years? Probably not.”
“So why did you?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. She was there, and it was easy. Sounds kind of selfish, doesn’t it?”
“I… I don’t know. It’s probably pretty normal, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Doesn’t mean it’s not selfish.”
“So is that why you haven’t dated much lately?”
“Partly. I don’t want to go through the motions again like that. It made me feel… like the kind of guy I don’t like. So I guess I’ve just been waiting for someone who…”
I hold my breath, waiting for him to finish. “Who what?”
He glances at me and then back at the road. “Someone who’s right.”
We get home twenty minutes later.
It’s late. The gates closed to the public hours ago. Wes parks the SUV and turns off the ignition and takes off his seat belt. Then he turns and looks at me.
I do the same, waiting because it seems like he’s going to say something.
When he doesn’t, I say, “Well, thanks. For the evening. It was a lot better than I was thinking it might be.”
“That’s because you stopped being so uptight.”
“Don’t even start that.” I give him a little swat on the chest. I’ve been doing that a lot. “You were uptight too.”
“I was. I’m glad we relaxed. I had a good time.” He’s smiling at me.
Just at me.
Exactly the way I love best.
“So did I.”
“You really do look beautiful tonight.”
I blink. “I do?”
“Yes. Of course. Surely you already know that.”
“Why would I know that?” I’m wearing one of my normal dresses and left my hair loose.
“Didn’t I say it before?”
“No, you didn’t! If you thought I was beautiful, you should have said so.”
“Then I’d be saying you’re beautiful every minute of every day.”
“I’d be okay with that.” My cheeks are warming but with excitement rather than embarrassment. My heart is hammering again but in a good way.
Everything is good.
Something better than good is about to happen.
“You would?” He reaches over to play with a strand of hair that’s fallen into my face.
“Yes, I would.”
“You’re beautiful, Ella.”
“Thank you.” I lean toward him. I can’t help it. He’s not moving, and I need him to.
He closes the distance to my swaying and takes my head in his hand as he kisses me.
It’s just as good as the first time. We both are immediately urgent, trying to work around the console between us to get as close as we can.
I’m about to climb right into his lap when he suddenly jerks back. “Wait.”
I’m gasping. I can’t catch my breath, and it feels like someone socked me in the gut. “Wait? Why?”
“Because we’re not supposed to do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because we agreed. To put the… the chemistry aside until after The Plan is over.”
“Oh.” He’s right. Maybe I forgot about it, or maybe I was pretending. “So that means we can’t even kiss?”
“I don’t think we should.”
Shit.
Damn.
Shit.
I hate this.
I want to kiss him so much.
“Okay.” I stare down at my trembling hands and suddenly can’t stand it. I scramble out of the SUV and hurry toward my cottage.
“Ella, wait.” He climbs out of the car too and rushes over.
I stop but don’t turn around.
“Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad. I’m just…” I shrug off the aching feeling, trying to shake it off the way a dog shakes off water. “You’re right. That’s going to mess things up between us. So let’s not kiss again.”