The Best of Fools (Jane Austen Book 2) (34 page)

"Very."

"Okay, listen." He took my hand. "I know you're not going to be able to turn your brain off and every time I kiss you perhaps you will put a wall up to make sure you don't get hurt, but I'd like to enjoy this time together without worrying about tomorrow."

"It's hard for me, Alistair. And the fact that it's hard says how much I like you."

"Jane, I'll never hurt you."

"Don't say that. Even my mom and dad, of all people, hurt each other sometimes."

"I'll never hurt you on purpose."

"This just can't work. It's too good to work, like everything in my life."

He sighed. "I thought you didn't give up easily, but maybe I was wrong."

"I'm not giving up. I'm just afraid to start something I know I can't finish. Remember when we said that?"

He nodded and took his hand away. "The difference is I intend to finish what we've started and I'll do anything to make sure it happens."

"It's just not realistic."

"Then be unrealistic. Who said you have to live by the world's standards?"

I shoved the food around on my plate, then looked up at him. "Okay. I'll try to enjoy today without thinking about tomorrow."

He smiled, but the air between us was cold. I wished more than anything that I could change myself. Why couldn't I have fun and fall in love like normal people?

We threw out what we didn't eat, had a conversation about consumerism and wastefulness, then decided to go for a walk where we continued our conversation while holding hands and laughing. We even named the store, jokingly,
Caped Crusader
, but I didn't tell him I had a real name picked out. I chose it while I tried to fall asleep after our kiss. 1812. Just 1812. After the song that played the day we met. Had nothing to do with Batman, but that was fine. Room for growth.

On our way back to my apartment Alistair noticed a woman trying to climb the steps to her house. He motioned for me to stop and approached her.

"Good afternoon," he said, touching the rail. "Might you need some help?"

"Oh, oh." Her hands shook as she reached for his arm. "Thank you, dear. You know I'm ninety-two years old in three days."

"Is that right?" He helped her to the door and smiled back at me.

"Yes, and you know what?" The keys trembled as she tried to stick them in the keyhole. "I lost my husband only a few months ago." She focused on the keys as he held his hand over hers to help her unlock the door. "Heart attack."

"I'm very sorry to hear that. I'm sure he was a wonderful man."

"
Is
, honey. He still is to me." Her face shook and a tear fell. "Thank you for helping me."

And she disappeared.

Alistair turned back to me and we kept walking.

The lady looked great for ninety-two, but her spirit had obviously buried itself with her husband.

I stayed quiet for a while after that. Then we walked up to the porch and I pulled out my keys, but he took my hand and pulled me toward him. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn't. He cradled me in his arms, hard, like I'd disappear if he let go, then he pulled back and said, "I'm hungry."

I laughed. "I bet you are."

"Jane?" He said as I opened the door. "Thanks for being cautious."

"Really? Why?"

"Because it shows that you're careful about who you give your heart to. And if you give it to me one day I know it'll be that much more special."

"Or I could keep it locked up forever and then it's not so admirable, is it?"

"No." He grinned. "No, that's not admirable at all."

"I don't want to."

"I know." He shut the door behind him. "I know that."

Time spent with Alistair was different than anyone else I'd ever been friends with, including Donovan. We could go from laughing hysterically, to making out, to having deep conversations about life, and think nothing of it. Everything happened so naturally, from the way we held hands to the way we listened to each other breathe.

When we finished dinner and stood in front of the jacuzzi tub, talking about how bad we wanted to get in, I knew I was walking on dangerous grounds, but caution out the window, I decided to go for it.

We made out, but hadn't crossed any crazy boundaries, so I wasn't ready to totally bare it all in the bath. I guess he wasn't either because he excused himself to change clothes in the bathroom while I changed in my room. I just put on a bathing suit. Yes, Batman. I know, I know, definitely dork-worthy, but that's me. At least it wasn't one of the bikinis with bat symbols on the boobs. I wasn't that weird.

I knocked on the door.

"Come in," he said.

I entered and ... "Wow. Already got it ready. How did you get bubbles in here?"

"Well, I snuck off in the grocery store while you were debating with yourself about which ice cream to get and found some bath things. We have vanilla-scented crystal stuff and bubbles too."

"Crystal stuff, huh?" I smiled and tried to ignore the tattoos sprawled across his chest. I wanted to read them, but didn't want him to think I was staring at his bare ... nicely toned arms and chest. Then it hit me. "You have a Batman bathing suit too!"

He laughed. "I like yours better though."

"Two dorks destined for dorkdom." I stepped into the tub and clenched my fists at my sides. "Ah, it's so hot."

"You'll get used to it."

"I think it's too hot."

He laughed and splashed me. "You never jump in, do you? I'll show you how this is done."

"Oh, you go ahead and show me then." I slowly lowered myself under the bubbles. Seriously, it was too hot.

"Ready?" His face lit up.

"What are you doing?"

"Wait." He turned the dimmer down. "That's better."

A mischievous grin spread across his face as he knelt down beside the tub.

"What are—"

He popped up and jumped in, splashing me and the floor in the process. After going completely under, he came out of the water and smiled as water clung to his eyelashes and dripped from his hair.

"What on earth was that?" I didn't know whether to laugh or....

"That's how you do it. Forget getting your feet wet. You just jump right on in."

I peeked over the side, grabbed a towel, and dropped it on the puddle of water he created on the floor.

"You are such a dork," I said. "Who leaps into a bathtub?"

"Who talks to herself in the grocery store, out loud, about which ice cream flavor is better?" He flicked water at me.

"Fair enough." I flicked back.

"Let's play truth or dare," he said. "You Americans like that, right?"

"What're we like five?"

"Sorta."

"Okay," I agreed.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"How Jane of you."

I wanted to move closer to him. Being all the way on the other side of the tub seemed so far, but at least our feet touched. I liked that.

"I dare you to take a bite of the soap." He handed it to me.

It slipped into the palm of my hand as I tried to read him to see if he was serious. He shrugged and motioned for me to go on as he put his arms along the sides of the tub and leaned back. Bubbles clung to him as the light cast shadows on the right side of his face. I wanted to feel his arms around me and his lips on mine. But I'd wait.

"I'm waiting," he teased.

I gave him an I'll-show-you-buddy look and bit into the soap, held it in my mouth for a few seconds, then spit it out. "Done. Your turn. Truth or dare?"

"Hmmm..." He rubbed his neck. "Truth."

"How Alistair of you," I said, trying to mimic his accent.

"Not bad, little duck. Not bad."

"Truth. Okay." I closed my eyes and thought. "How many girls have you kissed?"

"Six."

"That's it?"

"Why? How many blokes have you kissed?"

"This is your turn. What was the first one like?"

"You tell me. You were there."

I replayed his words to make sure I understood.

"The others don't count," he said. "Anyway, your turn. Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"You don't want to tell me anything?"

"I like the thrill of dares. But go ahead, ask me something."

"How many have you kissed?"

"Honestly?"

He nodded.

I let my eyes roam his face, down his neck, to his shoulders, and down his arms to his hands. He waited for me to answer, but I wasn't sure what to say. Technically I kissed two guys. But really Donovan kissed me. I never kissed back. And with Alistair ... with him I leaned in. I pressed my lips against his. I kissed him. Like I was about to now.

I crossed the tub and came up beside him. He pulled me into him and the adrenaline from last night returned with even more intensity. I placed my hand on his chest and leaned up so that my lips were centimeters from the stubble on his cheek.

"One," I whispered, then grazed his jaw line with my mouth.

"One?" His hand wrapped around the back of my neck and pulled me closer.

"One," I whispered again, this time against his lips.

He closed his eyes and we kissed, passionately, as he tugged on my hair while I held onto his face. The water rippled around us and somehow bubbles even ended up in our mouths. But I didn't care.

I didn't even care about tomorrow or the next day or the next year. I didn't care about anything but the feeling of him against me.

It was good. So good.

Right now.

It was us.

And for all I knew ... tomorrow might not come. So I embraced the moment.

I embraced him.

He pulled me on top of him and kissed my neck while I traced his eyelids with my fingers. The water gently splashed against the sides of the tub and the room filled with the sound of our breathing. Every inhale and exhale only made me want him more. And tomorrow less.

And I can't tell you how beautiful it was to be there with him, writing a love story I would actually read, and making memories of us in the process.

I leaned back. Smiled. And took another picture with my mind.

The third morning I woke up next to him I couldn't go back to sleep. It was four in the morning, but I knew he planned to go home the next morning so he could go back to work. Exactly what I worried about had finally happened. I dreaded him leaving. As I watched him sleep with the early morning moonlight on his face, I played the scene in my head. Kissing me goodbye at the airport. Several times because one goodbye is never enough. The emptiness that would settle in as he walked away, then sink in even more as his plane landed across the ocean, then just pretty much reside in my heart from then on.

Was it all worth it? A few days of fun?

I tried to sleep. I really did. But my eyes were still open when the sun woke him up. Or maybe it was the ambulance that drove by.

"Morning beautiful girl," he whispered and kissed my head. "Sleep well?"

I ran my fingers along his arm and hand, then back up to his shoulder and along his chest, where I finally settled on the
Carpe Diem
tattoo near his heart. Locusts hissed in the background as a September breeze swept through the air, billowing the curtains as it cooled the room. It was crisp and comfortable. Perfect.

"Why so serious?" he said, turning to his side to face me.

I tried to make eye contact, but the wall around my heart struggled to rebuild itself and I didn't know how to stop it.

He moved a strand of hair behind my ear and kept his arm against my neck. "Jane. It's okay."

"No." I shook my head. Was I really about to cry? "It's not okay. I can't do this."

"Do ... this?"

"This. Us. I knew this would happen."

"We'll make it work." He wiped the tear from my face. "We'll do this."

I closed my eyes. "I can't deal with missing you, Alistair. There's this pain in my chest just thinking about it. I don't know if—"

He kissed me, then pulled me into the crook of his arm. "I always finish what I start."

"That's just the thing ... I don't want it to finish."

"We're going to make it. Stop worrying." He kissed the top of my head again. "We're going to be okay."

The day wasn't normal. And it wasn't okay. No matter how much both of us tried to pretend that it was. We met up with Donovan and Han at her apartment and I'm sure even Don knew something was up. At the same time, it felt nice to have somewhat of a boyfriend—was he my boyfriend?—while Don had a girlfriend. We spent most of the afternoon talking in the living room, then Donovan and Han decided to make us dinner.