Unbound (13 page)

My
stomach turned to ice as a horrifying idea took shape. What if he’d just
realized his feelings were platonic? Oh God, I thought, suddenly nauseous, was
he about to tell me he wasn’t attracted to me? That he cared for me as a
friend? Or as a little sister? I was going to throw up.

“What’s
wrong?” I whispered.

He
looked up at me and seemed to read my expression. Eyes softening, one side of
his mouth twitched up into a crooked smile. “Absolutely nothing,
mo cridhe
. That was well worth the
wait.”

I
swallowed. It sounded very loud to my ears. Tucking my knees up onto the couch,
I hugged the blanket around my legs. “Then why are you so far away?”

His
smile was rueful.
 
“Because there is
a very good chance I won’t be able to stop myself if we do that again tonight.”
He cleared his throat and chuckled softly. “A very good chance.”

“Why
do you want to stop?”

 
“Because I meant what I said before,
Rachel. There is no rush. We can take our time. We will take our time.” He
muttered the last under his breath and regarded me seriously. “I did not wait
more than a thousand years to fall in love again, only to rush through it in
haste.” His eyes were hard and soft somehow. “I intend to savour every moment
we have.”

I
felt my cheeks burn. Did he say love?
 

“Oh.”
I seemed to have lost the power of speech.
Love?

He
cleared his throat again. “Also, I thought...I was under the impression, that
you...that this...”

Stunned,
I peered at him. Eaden so rarely lost his composure. Was he blushing?

He
tried again, looking self-conscious. “It was my understanding that perhaps, you
might not have yet...” he stopped again and muttered a curse under his breath.

My
cheeks burned brighter as it began to dawn on me what he was trying to ask.

He
looked desperate. “Put me out of my misery, Rachel, please.”

Humiliation
was sinking in slowly. “No, I haven’t.”

He
nodded, seemed relieved. “I didn’t think so.”

If
it had been possible for the couch to swallow me whole, I would have been
grateful. It’s not like it was a secret. I had barely dated until last year and
my relationship with Adam had resulted in a few superficial make-out sessions
in his car. I was laughably inexperienced.
 
I’d been waiting for him.

But
I resented feeling like a child again.
 
“I’m not sure what that has to do with anything,” I said.

His
eyes were gentle. “Please understand. There are so many things I can never give
you, a myriad of ways that I will never...” He broke off, his voice pained.
“Please Rachel, let me do this one thing right.”

My
argument died on my tongue. I wanted to object, to explain he had already given
me more than I thought possible, more than I thought I’d ever have. But the
look in his eyes kept me silent. I couldn’t bear to add to the grief that I saw
there. So instead, I nodded.

“Thank
you,” he said.

As
the fire from our kiss receded from my veins, I realized my limbs ached like
I’d been beaten and my left temple had begun to throb. Settling back into the
couch, my body was bruised and battered by the emotional roller coaster I had
ridden, from fear to intense desire and back again. I was exhausted.

He
saw of course. It seemed I could hide nothing from him. “You’re tired. I’ll
take you home,” he said, standing.

My
eyes narrowed slightly. “No,” I said, crossing my arms. So much for not acting
like a child.

He
shot me an exasperated look. “Rachel, didn’t we just decide...?”

“We
didn’t decide, you decided. There’s a difference.”

“Don’t
be angry.”
 

“No,
it’s fine.” My smile was heavy with disappointment. It was hard not to feel a
little rejected, even if his reasons were honourable and romantic. But even my
tamest visions for the evening had not involved me going home after one kiss.

My
eyes darted down to where my hands traced the pattern on the blanket.
“
Couldn’t I just stay here? We don’t
have to…I just don’t want to go home.”

“Your
mother?” he asked.

“Is
working a double and won’t even know I’m gone.”

He
smiled, but then stopped, looking wary. “Different beds,” he said firmly.

“Fine,”
I said, glad to have had at least one victory tonight. “I’ll sleep here,” I
said, gesturing at the couch.

He
rolled his eyes. “You are not sleeping on the couch.”

“Why
not? It looks comfortable.” I patted the cushions. “Nice and soft.”
 
And I hadn’t meant to kick him out of
his bed.

“Be
reasonable, Rachel. Do you really think that I would allow you to sleep on a couch,
while I take the bed? Have I been so discourteous to you thus far that you
believe I would consent to that?” It was becoming apparent that his speech
became more formal when he was irritated.

“No,
you’ve been ridiculously courteous,” I said. “I’m still not moving.”

His
frown receded. “Okay.” With remarkably little effort he scooped me up into his
arms and carried me to his bed.

My
startled protests ended abruptly as I began to giggle.

Throwing
back the covers with one hand, he gently placed me on the bed, and pulled the
covers back up to my chin.

“You
have the most adorable laugh,” he said, a smile in his eyes “I hope to hear it
more often.”

A
heavy thud announced that Angus had decided it was his bedtime too. He stalked
haughtily towards me and lay down at my side, blithely kneading the duvet and
emitting an alarmingly loud purr.

Eaden
gave him a considering look. “Fair enough,
mo
bráthair
. One of us should be lucky
enough to share her bed.” He softly pressed his lips to mine once more, a brief
sweet kiss. “Sleep well,
mo cridhe
.”

Rolling
over onto my side, I watched sleepily as he returned to the kitchen to finish
the dishes.

“Thanks
for dinner,” I called to him.

“You’re
welcome,” he called back over his shoulder. “Now go to sleep.”

I
did.

I
woke up the next morning without any of the usual disorientation that comes
from sleeping in a strange bed. Perhaps it was the warm, woodsy smell of him
that lingered on the bedding, or perhaps his calming presence had drifted across
the gigantic loft while we slept. Whatever the reason, before I had even opened
my eyes, I knew exactly where I was and I couldn’t wait to see him again.
  

Sitting
in the same chair he had sat in last night while he played guitar, Eaden held a
book open in one hand and seemed to be working out a rhythmic pattern on the
leather armrest with the other. His fingers tapped furiously as if they were
running over keys on a piano, a steaming cup of coffee balanced precariously
beside him.

He
glanced up and saw me watching him. “Good morning.” He sounded amused.

“Morning,”
I said, shyly patting my hair down in the vain hope that it wasn’t completely
bedraggled. I didn’t have much experience waking up with someone else in the
room.

Standing,
he placed the book down on the seat of his chair. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

Pulling
the covers up to my nose, I tried to avoid blasting him with morning breath as
he handed me a mug of desperately needed hot, black coffee. Gratefully, I
grabbed the mug and struggled into a sitting position.

“What
time is it?” The sky was a sombre grey; the light failing to give me any
indication of where the sun might be in its ascent. It could be eight o’clock,
or eleven, for all I knew.

“Ten-thirty,”
he said.

Yikes,
closer to eleven than I had thought. “I don’t usually sleep this long,” I said
sheepishly.

“I
know.” He laughed as I scowled at him. “It’s understandable. The last few days
have been unusually eventful.”

“Yeah,
something like that.” Sitting cross-legged on the bed, I took a big gulp of
coffee. “What’s the plan today?”

His
mouth twisted, only slightly, but I was getting better and better at reading
the subtle changes in his expression. I guessed that he was about to say
something I might not agree with.

“Don’t
you want to go home?”

“Do
you want me to go home?” Although the doubts I had harboured about his feelings
for me were quieter now, particularly after last night, his question gave them
voice again. Was he growing tired of me already?

He
sighed. “No.” He scratched his chin and looked up at the ceiling. “I want this
to be as normal as possible, Rachel.” There was an edge of frustration to his
voice.

“This?”

“Us.”

Take
that, stupid doubts.

 
“I would be overjoyed to spend the day
with you, but I’m worried that I’ve monopolized your time this entire weekend
because I’ve only been thinking about what I want.” He regarded me
seriously.
 
“It has occurred to me
that you have a life and may have other plans for your day. What do you want to
do?”

That
was easy. “To spend the day with you.”

His
mouth twitched and then he let the smile he was fighting break over his face. “Settled.
What shall we do?”

I
hadn’t thought that far yet. I realized that since Friday morning, Eaden had
organized our time without much assistance from me. While I was pondering our
choices, my stomach rumbled, giving me an idea. “How about breakfast?”

He
laughed. “Breakfast is a good start.”

Looking
through the large window at the sullen skies, it seemed that that indoor plans
might be best suited to the weather. “I’d also like to see a movie,” I said,
feeling feisty. It felt odd, almost exhilarating, to ask for what I wanted and
know it would be granted.

“Breakfast
and a movie,” he agreed. “Perhaps it would be best if we stopped by your home?”
He eyed the rumpled pyjamas I had slept in.

“Probably
a good idea,” I said, giggling, and then frowned as I suddenly realized that my
black dress would not be fit to wear again, as it was lying in a crumpled,
sodden heap on his bathroom floor. I moved to get up and rescue it.

Eaden
seemed to be able to read my thoughts. “It’s already at the dry cleaners,” he
said. “I’ll return it to you on Tuesday.”

“Oh.”
I wondered how long he had been awake this morning and was embarrassed by my
sloth. “Thanks, I’ll give you some money for that.”

He
frowned. “That really won’t be necessary Rachel.
 
Money isn’t a problem for me.”

“Good
for you.” Since my father had died, money had been an issue for us and I was
sensitive about it.
 
“You don’t need
to pay for me.”

He
watched me carefully, wary. “I know I don’t have to, but I can
,
and I’d like to.” Seeing the protest
forming on my lips, he held both hands up in surrender, “Very well, I give up.
You can buy me breakfast. Fair?”

“Fair,”
I said, and tumbled out of bed to make myself decent enough for the car ride to
my apartment.

I
changed quickly into jeans and a sweatshirt, moving quietly, while Eaden waited
in the car. My mother’s door was shut, but her shoes told me she was home and I
had no desire to try to explain anything to her right now. I didn’t leave her a
note.

We
ate at a mom-and-pop joint in my neighbourhood and I was heartened to see that
Eaden tucked into his eggs and hash browns with enthusiasm.
 
I wasn’t sure I could have a
relationship with someone who didn’t like to eat. He also seemed to accept my
need to smother my pancakes in peanut butter and maple syrup without
comment.
 
A good sign, as far as I
was concerned.
 

Strolling
along the streets hand-in-hand after breakfast, I felt remarkably conspicuous,
as if everyone who saw me would know how exhilarated I felt. We window shopped
until it was time for our matinee, or rather, I window shopped and Eaden
graciously offered no complaint. Catching our reflection in the window of a
shoe store, I felt like a character in a movie montage and suppressing a laugh,
tried to imagine what song would be playing as our “falling in love” scenes
rolled across the big screen.

He
eyed me curiously. “What are you finding so amusing?”

“Nothing.”
Embarrassed, I deflected. “I’m having a really good weekend.”

He
didn’t respond right away. Instead he placed an arm around my shoulder and
pulled me closer, kissing the side of my head. “The first of many.”

After
a sizeable internal debate, I ended up selecting a British period piece that I
had wanted to see for a long time. Surprisingly, Eaden didn’t seem bothered in
the least by my choice; even knowing that he wasn’t exactly the target
audience. In fact, I got the distinct impression he couldn’t have cared less
what we saw, as long as I was happy. This was definitely a first for me. In
most of my relationships, even the good ones like the one I had with Lacey, I
usually deferred to the other person’s wishes. I could get used to this, I
thought.

*
         
*
         
*
         
*
         
*

In
the darkened movie theatre Eaden leaned over and spoke quietly in my ear. “Not
even remotely close.”

Raising
an eyebrow, I whispered back. “Which part?”

“All
of it. The clothes, the set, and that accent...” He covered his eyes and
groaned.

“Shhhh,”
I giggled. Seemingly unable to help himself, Eaden had been making disparaging
comments since the movie began.

“I
don’t think you understand, Rachel,” he said, sounding serious. “This is an
affront to Scots everywhere. No self-respecting man in that time would have
worn a kilt that looked like that.” He grimaced. “It’s unbearable.”

Accurate
or not, I was actually enjoying the movie and was quite interested in the love
scene that I thought might be coming up. In light of recent events, I felt like
a few pointers couldn’t hurt.

“Be
quiet,” I murmured. “Here, eat.” I shoved the bucket of popcorn towards
him.
 

“Hmmm.”
He eyed me. “Good idea.”
 
Ignoring
the popcorn entirely, Eaden leaned over and kissed my neck softly a few times
before sliding his lips slowly upwards to nibble my earlobe. The movie suddenly
lost all appeal as I felt his teeth nip at my skin. After a several minutes, it
became impossible to hide that my breathing had become more ragged.

 
Grinning, he sat back in his seat with a
satisfied smile.

Keeping
my eyes on the screen, I tried to scowl. “Unfair.” My voice was rough.

“Yes,”
he agreed solemnly. He grabbed my hand and brought my knuckles to his mouth,
gently pressing his lips against them. His warm breath on the back of my hand
made me shiver.

“Forgive
me?” His eyes were wicked.

Stunned,
I nodded dumbly, unable to look away. What was it he had just said?

He
grinned. “Watch the movie.” He gestured with his eyes to the flickering images
that rolled across the screen in front of us.

“What
movie?”

Chuckling,
he kept one of my hands in his as I reluctantly returned my gaze to the big
screen. It was incredibly unjust that having made me agree to wait, he
delighted in provoking me to distraction. Every nerve, every cell in my body
could feel him beside me, as if tiny arcs of electricity jumped between us,
connected us.

The
love scene seemed quite tame in comparison.