Excavated (11 page)

Lucy
must have given up the fight, since she started to laugh too.

Philip
felt a strange softening in his chest as he listened to her. His amusement
morphed into something else.

“Well,
it was just plain mean,” Lucy said at last, something almost warm in her tone
now. “I thought it was a real referral. I thought you were being nice.”

Philip
experienced a strange tightness in his throat—like a surge of hope had risen
and gotten trapped there. He cleared his throat and managed to say casually, “I
would be happy to be nice. I thought that wasn’t what you wanted.”

Someone
had foisted Dr. Bronsen on him a couple of weeks ago, and he’d had the sudden
inspiration to send the man to Lucy. It had been a spontaneous instinct rather
than a real strategy, but now he realized it was a very good idea.

“Lucy?”
he prompted, when she didn’t answer.

“I
don’t know what you want, Philip,” she said at last, sounding young and kind of
lost.

His
heart ached for her—she was hurting over something, and it felt like it was
somehow his fault. He had no idea how to fix it. “All I ever wanted to do was
keep in touch. All I wanted was for us to not break things off completely.
That's all I want. Nothing more.”

“But…”
She sounded torn.

Knowing
an advantage when he was confronted with one, Philip jumped into her lapse in
conversation. “I have a conference in New York three weeks from now.”

“You
do? What about your dig?”

“We’ll
have to wrap up by then. I told you. It’s only a few weeks in summer that we
can dig here. The weather doesn’t cooperate otherwise.”

“What’s
the date of the conference?”

He
told her. “Will you be in town?”

“Yes.”

“Should
we get together? Just for drinks. No expectations. We can just see how it goes.
If it feels wrong, then no harm done. At least we’ll know.”

She
hesitated for a long time. “I guess that would be all right. But just for
drinks. No falling into bed.”

“Of
course not. Just drinks. No falling into bed.”

***

Three weeks later, Philip
and Lucy fell into bed. The big bed in Philip's hotel room.

They’d
met for drinks in the bar downstairs and ended up talking for more than three
hours, moving into the restaurant to have dinner as the evening went on. Then Lucy,
who’d had far too good a time for her own good, decided she better leave while
she could, so Philip walked her into the lobby.

She’d
reached up to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek.

Clearly
that kiss had been a mistake.

They’d
ended up in his room, having kissed their way up the elevator and down the
hallway. And now they were tearing at each other’s clothes as their embrace
became more heated and urgent.

“Oh
God,” Lucy gasped, arching up off the bed as Philip suckled one of her nipples
through the lace of her bra. “We weren’t supposed to do this.”

“Whoops,”
Philip murmured dryly, raising his head briefly to meet Lucy’s eyes.

She
laughed—she couldn’t help it—and then the laughter mixed with her pleasure as Philip’s
mouth moved lower and lower.

He
brought her to climax with his mouth—his lips and tongue hungry and skillful
through the flimsy fabric of her panties. Then she clawed at his trousers until
she freed his erection and rolled on the condom.

As
soon as he slid himself in, Lucy completely lost it. She couldn’t hold still,
trying to ride him eagerly from below even as he was holding himself tensely
and trying to catch his breath. Her urgency must have snapped his control as
well, since his attempts at restraint failed utterly.

They
moved together with the same almost desperate hunger she remembered from the
island. If anything, they were even wilder, harder, louder, needier.

The
first round of sex was over quickly—since neither of them could hold out
long—but there were other rounds later that night, with only brief respites
between them.

Finally,
just before dawn, Lucy was exhausted, sore, drenched in sweat, and utterly
sated—collapsed on Philip’s chest. “Oh God,” she kept gasping hoarsely. “Oh God.”

“I
hope that’s a refrain of satisfaction,” Philip murmured eventually, one of his
hands stroking her damp hair. “Because I’m not as young as I used to be, and,
if you’re asking for even more, I’m not sure I can accommodate. At least not at
the moment.”

She
shook with tired laughter. “I should demand you pleasure me even more—just to
pay you back for siccing that wacko on me. But, honestly, if I come again, I
might actually pass out.”

Philip’s
body shook too, with answering amusement. “I knew Dr. Bronsen was a good idea.”

She
found enough energy to lift her head and look down on him. “Seriously, Philip.
Why did you send him my way?”

He
gave her a familiar half-shrug—one she’d seen from him many times before. “Just
a spontaneous gesture.” He paused. Then added, as if as an afterthought. “I was
thinking about you a lot.”

She
let out a breath and rested her head on his chest again. She could feel his
heart beating beneath her ear.

For
the first time in a month and a half, the heavy weight in her stomach was gone.

It
felt so good not to feel it. It felt so free.

“Why
did you agree to have drinks with me if you didn’t want to have sex with me?” Philip
asked.

“I
don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I really don’t know. It just felt like
something was wrong between us, and I wanted to fix it.”

“So
what now?” His fingers were still gently brushing her hair back from the side
of her face.

“I
don’t know.”

She
couldn’t stand for that sick heaviness to return—as it threatened to at just
the thought of telling him she shouldn’t see him again.

But
she was absolutely terrified at the idea of anything else. She’d been down that
road too many times before.

“Why
don’t we just…” Philip trailed off, as if he were thinking something through,
even as he spoke.

“Why
don’t we what?”

“Why
don’t we just take it day by day? This doesn’t have to be a big deal. Every
time we see each other, we can reassess whether we want to see each other
again. If it’s too complicated for you or if it’s not what you want, you can
just say ‘no’ to the next date. I know you’re worried about…about commitment.
But I don’t think you need to worry. Just decide whether you want to see me
tomorrow. Or I guess tomorrow is actually later today. That’s all that’s on the
table right now.”

Lucy
thought about that for a long time.

It
was true.

She
was the one blowing things out of proportion. She was terrified about a
commitment that wasn’t even on their radar yet.

Right
now it was sex. And Philip’s companionship tomorrow. And maybe for the rest of
the week, while he was at the conference.

It
was that—or week after week of that horrible heaviness.

“Okay,”
she said.

“Okay
what?”

“Okay—let’s
go day by day.”

She
felt something relax in his body, something almost intangible.

He
said lightly, “I’ve got sessions I can't miss in the morning and the early
afternoon tomorr—today, but I can skip things in the afternoon or the evening.
What’s your schedule like?”

“I’ve
got nothing really.  I try to take some days off before we start a new shoot.”

“Where’s
your next shoot?”

“Southern
France. Some really interesting cave drawings and maybe a ghost or two.”

“Do
you want to have dinner? Or we could do a movie or a show or—”

“Dinner
is good.”

***

They had dinner. And
then they had sex again. Then Lucy decided it wouldn’t hurt to see Philip again
the following day.

She
decided the same thing each day until the last day of his conference.

She
started to get scared again—started to feel like the future was rising up to
beat her down—but Philip told her it was still day-to-day. He would call her
the next day, so all she would have to decide was whether she wanted to pick up
the phone.

The
next day, she picked up the phone.

And
she picked up the phone each day following, when he called her every evening.

On
the last day of her shoot in France, Philip mentioned that, if she wanted, she
could stop by Edinburgh on her way back the following day, since the semester
had started at the university and he couldn’t get over to France.

Since
all she was committing to was just the one day—and since she really wanted to
see Philip again—she decided she might as well stop by Scotland on her way
home.

It
wasn't really very far out of her way.

Philip collapsed onto
his back in Lucy’s bed—hot, breathless, and exhausted.

Lucy,
who was lying beside him, turned her head on the pillow to look over at him.
Her face was flushed and damp from what had been a couple of what sounded like
very good orgasms for her, but there was a playful gleam in her eyes that he
found absolutely irresistible. “Sex is hard work for a man of your age,” she
teased. “You should be careful not to overtax yourself.”

He
gave her the aggrieved scowl she was clearly expecting, but then he pulled her
into his arms.

She
arranged herself against him, her head pressed against his shoulder and her arm
wrapped around his middle in a way he really liked.

“I
missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling her hair. “A month is too long.”

They’d
only been together for four months, but going nearly a month without seeing her
had been much harder than Philip had expected. She’d been busy with a big film
shoot and he’d been busy with his end of the semester work, so they hadn’t been
able to find a time to get together until now, when Philip had a few weeks off
for winter break.

“Hmm.”
Even her wordless hum sounded dry and ironic. “I guess taking care of yourself
in the shower just isn’t the same.”

Philip
swallowed, managing to hide his annoyance. She always did this. Whenever their
interaction even hinted at emotional intimacy, she would change the mood
immediately to something light and teasing.

At
first, her reticence had been a relief, since he was a little skittish about
the relationship himself. He wasn’t sure he would have even been able to pursue
it had they not given themselves a simple escape route. After all, his
experience with women had taught him to expect to be hurt.

But,
more and more, he found himself resisting her distancing techniques. They were
together and had been together since the summer. They talked every day and got
together as often as they could. Philip knew she wasn’t seeing anyone else, and
he wasn’t remotely tempted to even look at anyone else.

The
natural next step would be to make some sort of commitment—or at least
acknowledge that they were a real couple—but Lucy never let the conversation
get anywhere close to such a thing.

Philip
was in too deep to hold her at arm’s length. He’d always known that, once he
fell for someone, it would be all the way—which was why he’d given up on love
for so long. It was simply too dangerous for him.

There
was no going back with him from Lucy, but she refused to admit there was
something to go back from. He knew she had commitment-issues—she had a string
of broken engagements to prove it.

But
still…it was really starting to bug him.

He’d
always been a good strategist, however, so he didn’t tense up or snap back a
curt reply. “Shall we talk about
your
habits in the shower?”

She
laughed softly and snuggled against him, and he relaxed all the way. She might
not be able to admit it, but she felt just as close to him as he felt to her.
“All I do in the shower is lather up, wash my hair, and shave.”

“I
don’t believe you.”

“I
do have a waterproof vibrator that comes in very handy,” she added, a smile in
her voice. “But I very rarely have to resort to that.”

“Your
self-control is extraordinary.”

She
laughed again. Then she reached up give him a wet kiss on the jaw. “I wore out
its batteries over the last month.”

He
laughed uninhibitedly and tightened his arms around her. He was feeling so soft
and fond that he didn’t think through all of the implications of his words when
he asked a minute or two later, “I can stay here through the New Year. What are
your plans for Christmas?”

It
wasn’t until he felt her tense up that he knew he’d made a mistake. “I don’t
know,” she said slowly.

He
should change the subject, brush off his question, not pursue this particular
line of inquiry. He knew it. He
knew
it.

But
he said anyway, “It’s just a couple of weeks away. You must have some idea.”

“Christmas
isn’t tomorrow,” she said lightly, although he thought he detected a slight
strain in her voice. “What happened to our one-day-at-a-time thing?”

“Once
you have a hundred-and-thirty-something days at a time, it becomes a
relationship—whether you call it that or not.” There was more resentment in his
tone than he’d expected.

She
pulled away from him and sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet up to cover her
bare breasts. “What’s wrong with you? I thought things were going well as they are.
I thought you were happy with…” Her words trailed off as her face twisted with
aching confusion.

“I
am happy with things,” he said, realizing he’d hurt her rather than annoyed
her. “I don’t know why we have to continue this pretense of being just casual,
but I can wait if you aren’t ready—”

“What
do you mean by pretense? We agreed that there wouldn’t be any pressure on
this.” She waved her hand vaguely between the two of them to signify whatever
it was they had. “It’s not fair for you to suddenly act like this is a
relationship, when we’d set the boundaries otherwise from the very beginning.”

“I
know how we set the boundaries, but it’s not like I’m changing terms without
any warning. We’ve been together for months now. What we have is a
relationship. Isn’t it?” His last question was needier than he wanted or expected,
as he was suddenly hit with a nightmare vision of his having given his heart to
someone who would just throw it back in his face.

“I
don’t…I don’t know.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and her eyes were wide
and strangely intense.

He
suddenly realized it was fear reflected in her eyes. She wasn’t just using him
or taking him for granted. She was terrified.

He
immediately walked them back from the precipice. “We don’t need to call it
anything. Don’t worry about it.”

She
just stared at him with huge green eyes.

“I’m
serious,” he told her, pitching his voice as warm and confident. “Please don’t
worry about it. Being with you one day at a time is better than any days I
spent before. Let me just rephrase my question from earlier. Do you have any plans
for tomorrow?”

She
was still eyeing him rather warily, but she lay down again and he pulled her
back into his arms. “I was thinking about doing some Christmas shopping. I
haven’t even started.”

“Sounds
good. Would you like some company? I could help you pick out your present for
me.”

***

The next morning, when
Philip got out of the shower and walked back into Lucy’s bedroom with a towel
wrapped around his hips, he saw that Lucy had packed his bag.

“What’s
going on?” he asked, immediately moving into crisis-mode.

“I’m
sorry.” Her face twisted as she sat on the edge of the bed near his suitcase.
“I’m really sorry. But I think you’d better leave.”

“
What
?”
The one word was hoarse and stretched, so he cleared his throat. “What the hell
is going on, Lucy?”

She
looked like she’d been crying while he was in the shower. “I don’t think this
is going to work.”

He
made himself calm down, although his heart was beating painfully in his throat
and his first instinct was to start roaring with outrage. He went to sit down
next to her on the bed. “You need to explain this to me.”

“It’s
just that…This wasn’t supposed to be a real relationship. I only started it
because it wasn’t one. But you seem to think…I mean, you want…I can’t just keep
stringing you along if you want it to be a real relationship.”

This
was very important—perhaps the most important moment of strategy in his life.
If he could think clearly, he could fix this. He could make a workable plan out
of emotional chaos.

But
he couldn’t seem to think strategically at all. It felt like the world was
falling away at his feet. He blurted out, “I don’t just want it to be a real
relationship. It
is
one. I understand if you’re scared, but—”

Her
face twisted again. “But nothing. The only point that matters is that I don’t want
this.”

“You
do want it. You’ll never convince me that you don’t. What we have together is
really good, and it’s not just good for me.”

“That
doesn’t matter. I already told you—”

“You
haven’t told me anything that makes sense. We’ve invested months of our lives
in this relationship, and you can’t just expect me to walk away without any
sort of explanation.” He knew he was too emotional. He could hear it in his
voice. He hadn’t felt this out of control for a really long time, and he didn’t
like it.

He
just couldn’t help it.

“I’m
so sorry, Philip.” She took a shaky breath and rubbed her face with both of her
hands. “I really am. I don’t know what to say. But I can’t be in real
relationship with you. I just can’t.”

“Why
can’t you?” He could hardly breathe, waiting for her to answer.

“I
can’t trust men that way. I can’t trust
you
.” She wasn’t looking at him
as she said the words, and her body was so tight she was shaking with you. “It
sounds terrible, but it’s true. I can’t trust you.”

The
room seemed to blur briefly in front of his eyes, but he finally managed to
take a full breath. “Tell me why not.”

She
shook her head.

He
reached out to put a hand on her arm, reminding himself not to grip it too
hard. “Lucy, you have to tell me why not. I don’t think I deserve your lack of
trust. I haven’t done anything to you that would deserve it.”

She
jerked out of his grip and turned on him, something pained and outraged on her
face. “Yes, you have. Yes, you have!”

He
stared at her in stunned silence.

“You…you
hurt me. Back then.” She shook her head and impatiently wiped away a stray
tear. “And I can’t let it happen again.”

Philip
still couldn’t speak. His mind was normally razor sharp, but it evidently
wasn’t working this morning.

He
had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

***

Lucy could tell from Philip’s
stunned expression that he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

His
confusion just made it worse. Made all of it worse. That he could have hurt her
so much and not even realize he had done it.

Her
throat ached with a sob that wouldn’t break, and she stared down at the floor,
trying to get herself back under control.

She’d
been so, so stupid to sleep with Philip that first time over the summer. And to
sleep with him every time since.

“Lucy,
what did I do?” His voice was barely a breath.

She
shook her head, unable to speak even if she’d wanted to.

He
took her by the shoulders and turned her upper body until she faced him. His
hands weren’t rough but their grip was like iron—absolutely unbreakable. “You
have to tell me.” His blue eyes bored into her, deep with something that looked
almost like panic. “I shouldn’t have kissed you that once, but you said you
didn’t care about that. I might have been an asshole back then, but it was
mostly because of angst with my mom. It was never about you.”

Her
vision had blurred with emotion, but she managed to make a choked sound that
was almost a bitter laugh. It cleared her throat enough for her to speak. “I
know it wasn’t about me. I wasn’t important enough for any of it to be about
me. I was so incredibly stupid to trust you back then, but I did. I did.”

She
saw through unshed tears something twist on his face. He one of his hands from
her shoulder to cup her face. “Lucy, I was young and stupid and driven by a lot
of pain, but I really tried not to take advantage of you back then. I promise I
tried. I knew you were really young—young even for a freshman in college—and I
was a lot older than you.” His forehead wrinkled as if he were trying to sort
through his memories. “Other than that kiss, did I do something…inappropriate?”

He
hadn’t done anything inappropriate. Even the kiss had been sweet and gentle,
surprising both of them one night they’d been working late. He’d always been a
perfect gentleman with her. Even when she’d initiated casual touching, he’d
always pulled away.

He’d
made her believe he respected her, cared about her as a person.

When
he hadn’t.

She
jerked out of his hands. “No, you didn’t do anything inappropriate.” She hadn’t
intended to tell him but the words came pouring out anyway. “It was afterwards.
Afterwards
. After the kiss. When you acted like I didn’t exist. You got
a new girlfriend, and you dropped me like I was nothing.”

He
was staring at her in stunned silence again, looking kind of like he’d just
been clobbered. Then, “I didn’t—"

“Yes,
you did! We were close. We were friends. I thought…but then nothing. Nothing.
You wouldn’t even deign to look at me. How the hell do you think that made me
feel? After everything with my dad, it was hard for me to trust men at all. But
I learned to trust you, and you just threw it back in my face.”