Meeting Mr. Wright (13 page)

I owe him an apology, and for whatever reason, it doesn’t come easy. I wring my hands together, my fingers practically white at the knuckles until Nate places his hand on top of mine. The second his skin touches my skin, all the tension in my body just melts away. Even though he knows I have something to say, he doesn’t press me for it; he just gives me all the time I need.

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “I’m really sorry that I left the way that I did earlier.”

He lets out a little laugh. “It’s not like we could’ve kept going.”

“No, but I could’ve stayed. I just-”

“It’s okay.”

Finally, I turn my head and look over at him. His eyes are clear, his expression soft, and the smile on his face is genuine. I get lost in that smile for a beat longer than I should before I make myself turn away. Looking at the floor in front of me, I notice all the photographs scattered there. Next to them is a photo album, opened to a page somewhere in the middle.

“What’s this?” I ask, leaning forward and plucking a photo out of the pile. It’s a picture of Ben and Nate, and it has to be at least ten years old. They both look nearly identical, only their faces are less angular, still softened by the early adolescent pudge they hadn’t quite lost yet. The two of them are standing in the middle of what must be a forest clearing, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. They’re both wearing white tees with
The Wright Stuff
written across the chest. Try as I might, I can’t help but laugh. “What are these shirts?”

Nate shakes his head like he knew this was coming, but he doesn’t really look all that embarrassed and there’s something about it that’s endearing. “That was taken at some family reunion. That year was the Wright family reunion, so the theme was The Wright Stuff. Of course we had to have shirts. Mom’s also really big on the mister Wright with a ‘W’-slash-mister right with an ‘R’ comparisons, just so you can prepare yourself for that when she gives her toast at the wedding on Saturday.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I say. I don’t dare tell him that I think those t-shirts were kind of adorable. “So you were just feeling nostalgic tonight?”

“Mom wanted me to find some pictures of Ben and me as kids so she could put them up on this cork board she’s going to have at the reception. This should be sufficiently embarrassing for him.”

“I think it’s cute,” I say, trailing my fingertip along the edge of the photograph. “And you were cute.”

“Were?” Nate asks, teasing.

I shrug. “I don’t know that I’d describe you as cute now.”

“What would you describe me as?”

I feel the blush creep up my neck into my cheeks, and avoid looking at him by averting my attention to a stack of photos to the right of the album. I pick it up and flip through the pictures one by one. They’re all of Nate in his ridiculously gorgeous outdoorsy glory. Camping, waterskiing. Snowboarding. It’s not until I’m halfway through the pile that I come across one of him with a woman. She’s got bright blonde sun-kissed hair, and her cheeks are rosy from the cold air. The two of them are standing in front of a beige tent, and there’s a beautiful crystal-blue lake in the background. Nate is kissing this woman, the kind of kiss where you can see them smiling even though their lips are pressed together, and I take a deep breath to push down the tide of jealousy that I feel rising inside of me.

“Was she your girlfriend?” I ask, tilting my head up to look at him.

He nods. “Caroline. We dated in college.”

“What happened?” I ask, not even stopping to think about how it really isn’t any of my business. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

Nate grins. It’s a sweet kind of smile; one that I haven’t seen on him before. “It’s okay. We graduated from college and she moved to Connecticut for a job. We tried to make it work for a couple of months, but it was the kind of relationship that thrived on keggers and weekend retreats. Not that great in real life.”

I crinkle my brow, kind of surprised that he’s being so honest. “Was she your last girlfriend?”

He laughs. “No, there have been a few since.”

“A few?” I shouldn’t be surprised, I don’t even know why I am. Look at him, I mean…how could he be single for long?

“Mercy, Jane and Rachel. One was long term, and the other two, well…not so much.”

“They couldn’t handle your charm?” I tease, bumping his shoulder with mine.

Nate takes a deep breath. “Rachel couldn’t handle me leaving the cap off the toothpaste and leaving crumbs on the counter after I made a sandwich. Neither of which I do anymore, for the record,” he says. “Jane couldn’t handle the fact that I was not, and could not ever be just like her ex-boyfriend. He was perfect, apparently. She made sure to tell me that often. Mercy and I, we just didn’t fit.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” I tell him, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “I should start telling everyone that Ethan and I just didn’t fit, instead of, you know, telling them what happened.”

Nate shrugs. “It’s the truth though, regardless of what got you to the not fitting part of things.”

“And you just keep trying? Keep putting yourself out there?” The idea of moving from potential broken heart to potential broken heart just astounds me. I can’t wrap my brain around it.

“I’m not going to find the woman who fits unless I date a few who don’t.”

“And what if no one fits?” It hurts a little to say the words aloud, although I know that’s because this is my fear. I don’t think Nate worries about being alone for the rest of his life.

“That would suck,” he says, his blue eyes locked with mine. “But at least I’d be able to say that I tried. It seems like a lonely life, not trying.”

“It’s a heartbreak-free life.”

“True, but what’s the good without the bad?”

He has a point, and even though I really wish I could argue with it, I can’t. I admire the positivity in his outlook on life, but I know it comes from a place deep inside of him that’s firmly rooted in positivity based on the way he grew up. His sister is married, and his brother is getting married in a few days. His parents have been together forever. For someone like me, relationship positivity isn’t so easy to come by. I didn’t grow up the same way he did.

“It seems like a lot of people in your family have found their fit,” I tell him.

“And a lot of people in yours haven’t.” He just knows, not that it’d be all that difficult to figure out.

I laugh, but it’s short and bitter, and I don’t like the way it makes Nate look at me, like he’s half concerned and way too curious. Like he’s finally able to piece together the parts of my life that hadn’t been making sense to him before.

“That’s an understatement,” I tell him, trying like hell to sound cheerful. But I don’t really want to get into this right now, so I look down at the pictures that I’m still holding. I flip through a few more, and this set is just of Nate, no Caroline. He’s skiing in one, and jumping off a cliff into a lake in another. “You really do jump off cliffs, don’t you?”

He smiles and shrugs. “Sometimes.”

“You like the feeling of falling?”

“There’s nothing else in the world like it,” he replies, his eyes so bright and intense and full of meaning. Meaning that I can’t quite figure out. “I climb things too, just so you know.”

“So you can rappel off of them. Crazy.”

“There are some things that are so beautiful that you can only see them if you climb to the top of a mountain. Or jump off a cliff.”

There’s that positivity, just pulling me to him like a magnet. All of his hope and lightheartedness and kindness of spirit are combining with his beautiful face and body to be the absolute death of me. I wish I could give in to it for good, to see where this could go. But I’ve known him for less than a week. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s easy to make people see what you want them to see when you only have to do it for a little while. How can I know if I’m seeing the real him?

I look up into his eyes, steely blue and focused right on me. “I can’t imagine what that would be.”

A small grin pulls at his lips, drawing my gaze there, and god, I really want to put my mouth on his. I want to get lost in the feel of his stubble against my cheek, and his hands cradling the back of my head as he kisses me. But I’m scared to do that, because I know that a kiss will be more than a kiss between him and me.

“Speaking of jumping,” I say, desperate to change the subject. My voice is a little hazy, but I reach over and grab my laptop, flipping open the screen while I give myself a few seconds to regroup. “I want to show you something.” I open the Rocky Mountain Rec logos I drafted earlier, and line them up on my screen so he can see all of them at once. “I’ve been thinking about this ever since our conversation last night. I hope you don’t mind.”

I tilt the laptop so that Nate can see the screen, and the look on his face is indescribable. Part happiness, part shock, part something else that I can’t quite identify. Maybe it’s got something to do with my show of support when his own father isn’t really keen on the idea of him and his friend starting their own business. Maybe it’s just nice for him to know that someone’s behind him. Either way, I like his smile. I like the way the laptop brightens his face.

“You designed these?” Nate asks, his voice incredulous as he leans down to get a closer look at the screen.

“Yeah. I just got a few ideas in my head and I went with them. You don’t have to use them or anything, but I thought-”

“Callie.” He interrupts me, his voice so soft. He puts his hand on top of mine and gives it a squeeze, and the warmth of his skin makes my eyelids flutter. “Thank you.”

I smile. “You’re welcome.”

He takes a while to study each one, and when he lets go of my hand, I miss the feel of him immediately. “See,” he says, pointing to the first of the four designs I showed him. “
This
is a groundbreaking font choice.”

I let out a genuine laugh, my head tilting back to rest against his bed. “Thanks.”

He turns to me, his eyes hooded. He licks his perfect lips, and he’s looking at me like he wants to kiss me. I’m looking at him like I want him to, I know it. But for whatever reason, I shy away. Stupid brain. Stupid broken heart.

“I should probably go,” I whisper. “It’s getting late.”

Nate presses his lips together in a thin line, then inhales a deep breath through his nose. He closes my laptop and reluctantly hands it to me. I take it and stand.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice tight.

I nod, smiling.

I walk down the hallway feeling like I left a piece of myself back there in his room. Only an hour ago I had decided to stop thinking so much and just let myself have a little fun. Then he had to go and talk about girlfriends and commitment, and I talked myself right back into denying him. Why can’t I just let him kiss me? It’s a kiss, it feels good. What’s so wrong with feeling good? I reach up and touch my lips, remembering the heat of his mouth that night in the hotel room. I want to feel that heat again. What am I doing? Why do I keep letting myself walk away from him when I just want to…I want…

A kiss. Just one kiss.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I put my laptop on my bed and run my fingers through my hair. I retrace the steps I just took, back to Nate’s room, where the door is still open. He’s standing beside his bed, leaning over and pulling back the sheets. He stills the second I reach the doorway, like he can feel my presence. Maybe he’s as attuned to me as I am to him.

When his eyes meet mine, I’m drawn across the room like I’m on autopilot, like I don’t have any choice in the matter. And then I’m right in front of him, and he’s looking at me like he can see through all of my fears and all of my excuses. Like he sees right down into the heart of me. And the thing is, I can’t look away. The light hits his eyes in a way that makes them
so
blue. His pupils are rimmed in a darker color, and I think his eyes are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

Without thinking, I reach up and skim my fingers across his brow bone and down his temple to his cheeks. His eyelids flutter shut and he licks his lips and my heart his pounding so hard that I know he must be able to feel it through my fingertips. He turns his head a little, and his quickening breaths slip across my wrist, and then those gorgeous eyes are on mine again. My fingers slip back along the column of his neck as my other hand slides up his chest and around his shoulder. I pull myself up onto my tiptoes and press my lips against his before I lose my nerve. Instantly, one of Nate’s hands makes its way along my waist, coming to rest on the small of my back, pulling me against his body. The other threads into my hair, cradling my head as my knees turn to jelly.

Kissing him feels as easy and necessary as breathing. He tastes like I remember, his tongue so perfect against mine, and he makes these soft noises as we move together that I want to keep for the rest of my life. I want to be the only one who ever gets to hear them.

We kiss like we’re never going to stop, for minutes or maybe hours. However long it is it’s not enough, and when we finally part, I feel lost. Nate presses his forehead against mine, and I trace his neck and shoulders with my fingers. He closes his eyes and sighs, then crooks his finger beneath my chin and lifts my head until our lips meet again in a slower, more tender kiss.