Tracing Hearts (20 page)

Then, the corners of her mouth slowly start to lift, until…she’s smiling.

She’s smiling
. Thank God.

I release a long held breath and smile back at her. What should I say?

“That was nice,” she says softly, peering up through her lashes, her cheeks slightly pink.

“Yes. It was,” I say with a rasping whisper, and her smile broadens.

Silence comes, and I’m not sure if a conversation is in order, or if I should kiss her again. God, I want to kiss her again, but I choose the first option instead.

“We should probably get back to our room…to get out of these wet clothes…er…I mean…separately.” I roll my eyes at my inadequate wording, but she giggles at my verbiage.

“Okay,” she says. So, I take her hand and guide her toward the ladder. I let her climb out first, trying not to let her see where my eyes land, then I follow. I grab a towel and wrap it around her. Holding onto it, I close her inside. The urge to kiss her returns but I’m apprehensive, so I don't make another move. We walk in an easy silence back to our hotel room.

She showers first. I pace the floor thinking of what to say to her when she comes out. How much do I tell her? Do I say anything at all? Surely we have to talk about this, but I’m not sure where to start. Should she know how much she means to me? Should I tell her how long I’ve wanted to kiss her like that? Does she even want to hear it? I don’t want to overwhelm her with the feelings I’ve been suppressing all these years, but she must have some sort of clue about how I feel about her. I push both hands through my chlorine soaked hair in exasperation and look up for divine advice. Then, I hear the water shut off. I’ll only have as much time as my shower takes, to brainstorm.

The bathroom door opens and Julia steps out with a white towel wrapped around her hair. She’s wearing a light blue t-shirt and a pair of matching pajama shorts that Mick bought for her. I’ll have to remind myself to thank him later. Shyly, she wanders toward the bed, not making much eye contact with me. Oh no.

“Your turn,” she simply says. I nod and head inside.

Cold water covers my face and runs down my body. If I stand any chance of talking to her tonight, I’ll have to have my head on straight. I’m still unsure of what I’ll say to her, and I’m still not sure if what I’d like to say, I
should
say. No, the timing isn’t good. I can’t tell her how I really feel. This situation is stressful enough as it is without bringing
feelings
into it. I’ve done enough to harm this girl. I won't be responsible for breaking her heart if this doesn’t end well. I turn off the water, dry, and dress in record time. Then, I exit the tiny room.

Julia sits on the edge of the bed, one leg curled up underneath her, the other dangling off the edge. She’s brushing her long, wet hair, which does nothing to help me focus. I force myself to look away. Tentatively, I sit on a chair beside her.

Here goes nothing.

“Julia,” I start, but pause trying desperately to think of what to say next. “What happened at the pool…I think we need to talk about it.” She nods. All she does is nod—which brings it back to me. I sigh. “Look, I hope you’re not upset…I mean…”

Words fail me.

“Are you upset about it?” she says softly.

“What? No.” I exhale sharply. “Just the contrary,” I mumble, most likely too low for her to hear. “I just…” I push my hands through my hair and stand. Pacing is good. Pacing helps me think of what to say, despite the fact that she looks so damned beautiful sitting on the bed, and all I want to do is take her in my arms and kiss her again. But, this time, I’ll be expecting it. This time, I’ll show her how much I want her. This time, there’ll be no doubts about my intentions. But, for now, I just pace.

“Sebastian, what’s wrong?” Her expression is one of concern and I’m afraid my inability to communicate what I’m feeling has caused it. I stop and sit beside her on the bed. Sweet Jesus, I’m sitting on the bed with her. My hands find hers. They're small and soft, and I ache to hold them all night long. I take a deep breath, then exhale.

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise you. I just…I’m not sure what to say. What happened…what we did, it was nice. I’m just not sure it was a good idea. I think we need to focus on our situation.” I search her face for anything that could give me the tiniest clue of what she’s thinking.

“I’m afraid,” she says.

She’s afraid?

“What are you afraid of?” I ask, concerned.

“I’m afraid that you don't feel, about me, the way I feel about you. I’m afraid that kiss will never happen again. I’m afraid that kiss will’ve changed the way you look at me and that I’ve ruined us because if that happens, I just couldn’t take it.” Her eyes well up with unshed tears, and I know I’d do anything to not be the cause of them spilling down her cheeks. I want her, but I also don’t want to hurt her. Whatever this is, it needs to move slowly.

“Hey,” I say, grasping her chin between my fingers. “You haven’t ruined anything. I don’t regret kissing you. I’m just…nervous. I don't want the adrenaline from our predicament to cloud our thoughts and guide us in a direction we otherwise wouldn’t have taken.” There. That was a very adult thing to say, even if I really didn’t mean it. “I liked kissing you, and I can’t say I haven’t imagined doing it before this moment, but we need to stay focused right now, so we can get out of this alive. Do you understand?” She nods her head, but I don't think she likes that answer. I’m not so crazy about it myself.

She sniffles and raises her eyes to mine.

“Okay.” Her small voice is a little more hopeful than before, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” I repeat her word and lean over, kissing her forehead. Then, my arms fold around her and my eyes close as I try to imagine how on earth I’ve come to deserve this girl.

***

I sit up, my heart races in panic as the sweat rolls down my bare chest. The room is dark. I hear Julia. She’s screaming off in the distance. I try to stand, but I can’t move. I look down and notice my legs are bound to a chair, my hands tied behind my back. I struggle to break free, as her screams get louder. I shout her name. She hears me and calls back, fear laced in her voice. “Julia!” I call again. Her answer is muffled now. A loud bang startles me, then, three more, before the deafening silence. I struggle to get free, screaming her name, but there is no answer. I shout again and again, but there is no sound except the pounding rhythm of my frantic heart. Suddenly, an unseen door opens, and a light appears. I squint to see a man’s shadowy figure step forward. He’s carrying something. As he gets closer, I recognize her. It’s Julia’s limp body. I flail about, trying to get to her, to help her, to snatch her out of the man’s arms, but I’m bound too tightly. I shout to her, until my throat aches. The man, still in shadow, places her at my feet. Her eyes are closed, her body lifeless. Then, I’m free. No longer held in place on the chair, I lunge at her. My knees crash to the floor, as I land at her side. I hold the sides of her face with both hands, talking to her, trying but failing to wake her. “Julia, please don’t leave me. Please. Don’t go.” With my ear to her mouth, I listen for breath. I watch for the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She is still. Forever, it seems, I breathe for her, hoping and praying she’ll come back to me. Tears stream down my face as I realize I’m too late. I howl gut-wrenching cries and clutch her body to mine. Sobbing like a baby, I hold onto her and wish it were me instead.

“Sebastian, wake up!”

When I open my eyes, I see a blurred image of Julia. She is kneeling over top of me, shaking me violently. I’m…confused. “Shh, it’s okay. It was a dream. Please, look at me. See me,” she pleads in a desperate tone, one hand against my cheek, the other combing through my sweat soaked hair.

My eyes focus, and I sit straight up, wrapping my arms tightly around this oasis. She reciprocates and holds me just as firmly.

“Oh, God. Julia,” I say, my anxious voice still shaky. “I’m so sorry.” Still kneeling, she runs her fingers through my hair. My head rests against her chest as she holds me, and I let her, for as long as it takes to come out of this nightmare. The rhythm of her heart is soothing. Finally, we separate, and she sits back on her heels. Like in my dream, I take her face in my hands, but this time her eyes are open and filled with life. I exhale in relief. “Julia,” I whisper, then press my lips against hers. My heartbeat, which is already at a sprinters pace, leaps forward again, increasing in speed, as if that’s even possible. Our kiss is one of desperation and relief. I know this is wrong, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I deepen the kiss, and she doesn’t pull away. Our tongues touch and a frenzy begins. She pushes her hands into my hair and grips it tightly. I moan and pull her onto my lap, her knees on either side of me. The friction against my tightening pants is welcomed, and she seems to rock against me. My hands find their way behind her as I pull her in tighter against me. My body aches for her touch. For so long, I’ve wanted this. I pour twelve years of desire into this single moment.

Finally, coming out of my daze, still breathless and panting, I pull back, and attempt to slow my breathing.

“Are you okay?” she says softly.

I nod subtly.

“Yes.” My response is clipped and breathy. I look into her eyes. “Are you?” She nods.

“Do you want to talk about it? Your dream, I mean,” she asks.

I shake my head.

“No.” I don't want to relive that anytime soon.

“Come to bed,” she says, and I look at her in shock. “To sleep,” she clarifies.

I protest but she’s adamant, stating I’ll rest better on the soft mattress rather than on the hard floor. Exhausted, I finally give in and gather up my pillow and blanket. I lie on my back, just inches away from a moment I’ve imagined for most of my life. Julia lies on her side facing away from me, but it’s fine. Her proximity is satisfying enough. Then, she does the unexpected. She rolls over and nudges me to roll away from her. She curls up behind me and rests her arm protectively on top of my tensed body. Reluctantly, I lace my fingers through hers, and she sighs quietly. I can feel her warm breath on the back of my neck, and the shape of her body conforms to mine. As we drift, I’m secure in the fact that what just happened between us was mutually enjoyable. I can see that, from now on, keeping myself in check is going to be more challenging than I thought.

Julia

I’m lying on my back when morning breaks my slumber. Reluctant to wake, I keep my eyes shut and recall Sebastian’s nightmare and the kiss that came after it. I stretch and smile in remembrance. Finally, my eyes flutter open, and my head turns in the direction of my sleeping friend. The empty pillow next to me causes a small gasp to escape. My head shifts around the room in double time, but he’s nowhere to be found. Startled, I sit up, hoping desperately that he’s okay.

“Sebastian?” I call out.

I swing my feet onto the floor and peek around the dividing wall at the partially opened bathroom door. “Are you in there?” No one answers. My breathing becomes shallow and concern creeps in. Oh, God. Where could he be? Just then, I hear the doorknob to the hallway, jiggle. I cover my mouth in a panic. What if it’s them? What if the bad men found out where we were and took Sebastian and now, they’re coming back for me? Instinct kicks in, I guess, because I dash into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I listen as I hear someone enter the room. They make no noise, and neither do I. My hands cover my mouth for fear any noise may give me away. And then…

“Julia?” Sebastian’s puzzled voice asks.

I blow out a long held breath, and my whole body relaxes. Thank God. I turn the handle slowly and open the door. ”I’m here.” He turns in the direction of my reply and smiles, though his eye contact is brief. I smile shyly back at him and observe a tray full of food in his hands.

“I went downstairs, while you were sleeping, and brought up some breakfast. I was hoping to be back before you woke. You didn’t panic when you didn’t see me here, did you?” he says while setting down the tray full of eggs, bacon, and pancakes.

“No,” I snort. “Not at all,” I lie.

“Good. You hungry?”

“Starved.”

He smiles again. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I got a few different things.”

We both sit down at the small dining table.

“I don’t have a taste for anything in particular, so I’ll let you choose.”

“Well, let’s just split it all then.” I smile and agree.

He grabs two plates and begins to dish out the food. I put up my hand to signal he’s put enough on mine. Next, he hands me a porcelain coffee mug and pours in some hot water. He then hands me two lemon wedges and a small container of honey. I look at him, wide-eyed.

“You remembered,” I say, astonished.

“Yes. As always, I remember what’s important to me.”

“Thank you,” I say as I smile broadly at him. Then, I reach across the table, touching my hand to his. He looks down at our hands, then peers up at me through his lashes.

“You’re very welcome.”

His expression is serious but sincere, and for a moment I think he’s going to follow up with something else, but he doesn’t. I fix my water and we begin eating in relative silence.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I ask as I clear out the dirty dishes from the table and attempt to rinse them off in the bathroom sink.

He takes the last swig of coffee from his cup. “We’re moving again.” My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Mick called while you were sleeping and told me he has a place for us to live for a while. It’s in Florida. Clearwater to be specific.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Well, that’s unexpected.

“He says it’s a nice town. Not too big, not too small. Easy to blend in there. It’s near the Gulf of Mexico, though our place isn’t right on the beach.” I watch him as he begins to gather his things and stuff them into his duffle bag. “We’ll need to leave soon.”

I nod and scoop up my hairbrush, shoving it into my duffle bag. We’re going to Florida. Okay.