Unlikely Love: A Romance Single (9 page)

She wanted to be able to explain what was happening, but it wasn't rational. Things were stirring inside of her that were new and foreign.

Delilah stared deep into Nolan's eyes, to try and understand, but the harder she looked, the more the feeling squirmed inside of her.

“Shall we eat?”

Delilah smiled and nodded, but she couldn't shake André from her mind.

Nolan unpacked the tiny basket and set the food onto the tiny space between them. He unpeeled the foil wrappers to reveal small bowls, filled with fruit and salad. A fresh block of bread joined them.

“I remembered what you said about being a vegetarian, so I got Carlos in the kitchen to whip us some things up.”

“Thank you,” Delilah muttered.

“I'm sorry for talking about my ex-wife,” Nolan quickly jumped in, “I think I've made the atmosphere a bit weird, haven't I?”

“No!” Delilah protested.

She didn't know how to tell Nolan that it was her own betrayal that was making things awkward between them. They started to eat in silence as the sunflowers swayed around them. It wasn't how Delilah had expected she'd be spending her afternoon.

“I've never been on a date like this before,” Delilah said, after she ate a sun dried tomato.

Nolan's smirk let her know exactly what she'd just said.

“Date?” he arched an eyebrow comically.

“I mean,” she stuttered, “I didn't mean date.”

He chuckled before dipping a chunk of bread into the olive oil. The awkward silence quickly grew between them, causing Delilah to start studying the sunflowers as if they were suddenly talking to her. Out of the corner of her eye, Nolan seemed to be cool and casual, grazing on the food he'd brought. How could she be so stupid to step her foot in things so epically? It wasn't even a date! She knew it wasn't a date. She didn't want it to be a date, but she couldn't hide how much it stung her when Nolan laughed off her suggestion.

“I didn't mean date,” she repeated again.

“Why not?” he smiled at her, his eye crinkling.

In the bright sun light, he looked more rugged than Delilah remembered. She tried to ignore the sudden racing of her heart as she stared at him.

“Slip of the tongue,” she threw a strawberry into her mouth.

“Delilah, I just want you to know that I'm only here for another week. I gather you're staying longer?”

She nodded, but couldn't make the same eye contact he was.

“I told you, it was just a slip of the tongue,” she repeated.

“Is the idea of going on a date with me that repulsive?” he was joking, but his words hurt.

“No,” left her mouth instantly.

“I'm a travel journalist, not a model or a singer. I'm not up to your usual standards,” he winked.

Model?

“I didn't mean it like that!” she snapped.

“Delilah,” he reached out and gently placed his hand on her knee, over the dress, “I'm joking.”

She let his hand sit on her leg for a moment, letting the warmth flood through her from his touch. Their eyes met, and her heart fluttered again as it pounded in her chest. Eyes twitched, she stared into Nolan's dark and mysterious pupils, which twitched in response as he quickly pulled his hand away from her knee. It felt like he'd left it there a little too long, but Delilah didn't mind.

She wanted him to touch her again.

He's just a journalist.

“Should we set off?” Delilah flicked her hair over her shoulder and peered down at the unfinished food.

“Good call. My butt's starting to go numb.”

Nolan sprung up and held his hand out for Delilah. She reluctantly took it and he helped her up. Once again, his touch lingered a little too long, sending a hot shiver up her arm. The more she tried to not look him in the eyes, the more she longed to.

As he marched through the sunflowers towards the road, she sheepishly followed, trying to ignore the burning curiosity that was growing inside of her.

She wondered what his lips tasted like?

As they traveled back, Delilah didn't need prompting to cling onto Nolan's waist. She did it instinctively and found herself pressing up against his back, inhaling his spicy and manly scent, longing to know what aftershave it was. She tried to tell herself it was the smell of the aftershave that was making her act strange, or perhaps the heat? After all, LA was hot, but it wasn't as hot as Spain.

There were so many excuses that she'd rather accept than just accepting that she felt an attraction to the journalist she clung desperately to as they sped along the sunflower field, back towards the cliff-side road.

Just when they were at the foot of the steep hill, the bike slowed down. At first, Delilah thought Nolan was just bracing her for the steep incline, but when the engine coughed and croaked she knew something wasn't right. With a deadly spluttering, the bike ground down to a halt, in a cloud of road dust.

“Please tell me you did that on purpose,” Delilah mumbled into his shirt.

Nolan didn't answer, instead he grunted and screamed as he tried to restart the bike. For a moment, the engine roared back into life and they moved forwards slightly, but it coughed and died.

“Nolan?” the panic was already starting to rise in Delilah's voice, but she was trying to keep calm.

When he didn't say anything and bowed his head, she knew things were serious and the panic levels catapulted.

“Nolan?” she sounded harsher.

“It's fine,” he said, “don't panic.”

Being told not to panic only made her panic even more. Whenever somebody said '
don't panic
', it usually means that she should start panicking because something has gone wrong.

“Please tell me it's just the petrol, and you have some spare?”

“It's the petrol, I think,” he jumped off the bike and Delilah followed, “but I don't have any spare.”

“You're joking, right?” she cried, “We're in the middle of nowhere.”

“Delilah, it's fine, just calm down for a second,” he paced around the bike and yanked his helmet off, ruffling his hair back.

He looked calm and collected, but that didn't mean anything to Delilah. She glanced up at the huge steep road in front of her, and she knew that there was nothing in the world that would make her climb it. Checking her cell, she was relieved to see that the battery was full, but the signal was completely dead.

“Nolan, what are we going to do?”

“I'm thinking,” he rose a finger to Delilah, as if to silence her, which she didn't take very kindly to.

People around Delilah usually knew not to shush her. The star said what they wanted, when they wanted.

“We're not stranded in the middle of nowhere with a dead bike!” she ranted, “We can't be.”

Spinning around on the spot, sunflower fields surrounded them on either side. Any romance vanished, and instead, it looked like a yellow prison. As she stood, thinking of a hundred situations which all ended in her death, she could feel her head starting to boil under the tiny pink helmet. Gasping for air, she tried to pull it off, but the strap was still fastened tightly around her head.

The more she pulled at it, the more worked up she could feel herself getting.

“Delilah, what are you doing?” Nolan was right in front of her.

His thick and strong hands grabbed hers and pulled them down to her side. She peered through the tufts of hair that were crammed in between her head and the helmet. As she panted for air, her face burned scarlet. She was in such a panic about the situation, it took her a second to notice that Nolan was clutching her hands and caressing them with his fingers.

“It's okay,” his voice was soft, “just take a deep breath.”

She tried, but her airways felt compressed. Nolan dropped one of her hands, and with his free hand he unclasped the strap and gently pulled it off her head with ease. Delilah should have felt embarrassed about her display, but the way Nolan's thumb kept stroking the back of her hand made her feel at ease and peaceful. She let the feeling wash over her, and with her helmet gone, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down.

He tossed the helmet onto the dusty road with a thud and raised his hand to her face. Gently, he brushed the stray blonde hairs that were covering her eyes, and tucked them behind her ear. He did it again, and he seemed to make sure that the tips of his fingers were brushing her soft skin as he did. She closed her eyes momentarily and let the feeling ignite her. Any feelings of panic or stress had disappeared.

Silencing the voice in the back of her head that was telling her to pull away and put an end to it, she leaned into his hand as he repeated the motion again, brushing the final loose strands away. She was almost sad that there was no more hair for him to brush away, but as if sensing her sadness, he didn't drop his hand. Instead, he pushed it through her thick hair, and cupped the top of her neck, repeating the same caressing motion that he was doing on her hand.

She blinked her thick lashes and glanced up into his eyes. They reflected her look of confusion and nervousness, and from the shakiness of his irregular breaths, it was obvious that Nolan was just as confused as she was. As she fought with the voice in her head that was telling her to pull away, she was also fighting with the urge to lean in and kiss him. Their faces were only inches apart, so it would only take the smallest amount of effort to close the gap and connect their lips.

“Are you a robot?” Nolan whispered gently.

Delilah stared into his eyes, as if in a daze, before furrowing her brow and pulling her head back slightly at the question.

“What?” she whispered back.

“Are you a robot?” he repeated, “I hate to alarm you, but you have metal things attached to your skull.”

His fingers touched the metal clips of her hair extensions, which suddenly started to itch and tug at her scalp as she thought about them.

With her free hand, she instinctively placed it against where the clips where, and through her hair, on top of where Nolan's fingers were gently stroking her still.

“It's my extensions.”

She slid her hand from his, down the side of her neck before dropping it to her side.

“Why do you need fake hair?”

“The label -”

“You don't need it,” he jumped in, “you're gorgeous the way you are.”

She smiled and playfully bit her lip.

“You think I'm gorgeous?” some of her East London twang suddenly pushed through.

Nolan gently blinked his thick, dark lashes before letting out a deep and soft laugh, “you're painfully gorgeous.”

Painfully gorgeous?

“I'm not,” Delilah mumbled.

That wasn't Delilah fishing for compliments, Delilah just didn't think she was gorgeous. She had enough people telling her she was on video shoots, but that wasn't the real Delilah. When she spent hours in makeup and hair, she came out feeling gorgeous, but that didn't last. After a shower, she'd return to the plain girl she felt like inside.

“No, you really are,” his eyes wandered down to her lips, making her stomach dance, “you don't need the outfits and the hair.”

No man had ever said that to her before.

“Most guys like it,” she mumbled.

Nolan smiled and seemed to lean in a fraction closer.

“I'm not most guys.”

Delilah's insides were doing somersaults as she listened to his raspy voice. He slid his hand from her hair, and Delilah thought it was going to be the end of their '
moment
', but he didn't drop it. His hand found its way on to her cheek, cupping it perfectly in his strong hand. She wasn't bothered about him touching her makeup or messing up her hair, she just wanted him to lean in and kiss her.

As if hearing her thoughts, Nolan's eyes closed and he slowly and carefully started to lean towards her as he pulled her towards him. He dropped her hand, and placed it gently in the small of her back. She arched it, and pressed her front into Nolan. Her breasts pressed against his chest through his open shirt. So close, Delilah could smell the fruit and bread, mixed with a hint of minty toothpaste. His lips looked soft and moist, making her crave them more. They hovered, lingering over each other's lips, breathing on each other. She was sure he was about to change his mind any minute and pull away. Would he still think she was so gorgeous up close?

Appearing to confirm her fears, his eyes flicked open, and his dark hazel eyes stared deeply and seductively at her.

Something squirmed deep within, forcing her to take action.

She needed to know what he felt like.             

She needed to know what he tasted like.

Under the hot Spanish sun, surrounded by swaying yellow flowers, she did the unthinkable and closed the gap. When her lips connected with the journalist's, she could feel her entire body shaking. If Nolan wasn't holding her in place, she was sure she would fall to the ground. For what felt like hours, but was probably only seconds, they rested their lips against each other, not moving. With her eyes closed, the feeling of Nolan's lips delicately pressed against hers sent sparks flooding through her veins. The sun and the sunflowers striped away, and the sound of the rustling leaves vanished, leaving them completely alone in a vacuum.

She dared to open her mouth, and kiss him even harder. Nolan seemed to stand stunned, and he didn't return the kiss at first. Doubt and regret flooded through her mind, but before she could pull away, Nolan's hand cupping her back, suddenly slid down to cup one of her perfectly round buttocks. He rested it there for a moment, his touch dancing over the fabric, tantalizing all of her senses. With one firm squeeze, he yanked her in even closer, and with his hand still gripping her cheek, passion suddenly flooded from him.

In a fiery exchange, their tongues met as his hand explored her backside. It all felt so urgent and frantic, but Delilah couldn't hold back. She felt him lift up the back of her dress to remove the fabric from his touch. As he kissed her strongly and deeply, his hand caressed her cheek over her lacy underwear, before gently sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, to unite their flesh.

Pushing herself even further into Nolan, she could feel something thick and heavy pulsing in his jeans, pushing into her dress. She longed to see it, to touch it, to feel it. The excuses and reasoning had vanished, to be replaced with a need. In that moment, she needed Nolan more than she'd ever needed anything.

As he confidently massaged her, she slid her fingers down to his belt and started to tug away at the buckle, but to her surprise he pulled his crotch away from her.

“Not here,” he pulled away from the kiss, resting his head against her forehead.

“I can't wait,” she panted, shaking her head, his taste still fresh on her lips.

When he slid his hand out of her underwear, she felt the tight lacy fabric snap back onto her with disappointment. The hand dropped from her cheek, and their bodies ceased to be united. Nolan took a step back and ran his hands through his hair, with his eyes screwed up. Delilah glanced down at his crotch, and even through the thick jeans, she could see something large snaking down one of his trouser legs.

She still longed for it.

“This is exactly what I didn't want to happen!” he cried out, piercing the silence.

He looked upset and angry with himself. Delilah's lips were still wet, and she could still feel his hand under her dress, touching her. She wanted to know how they could go from being so close, to feeling so distant.

“What's that supposed to mean?” she suddenly snapped back to reality.

She smoothed out her hair, flicked it over her shoulder and rearranged her dress. Crossing her arms over her chest, she pierced Nolan with an icy look. She gave in to her strange desire for him, and he re paid her by pushing her away.

“This shouldn't have happened,” he circled his finger around Delilah.

“You started it! You called me gorgeous!” she was on the defense.

“I didn't mean that,” he dropped his hands from his hair, “I didn't mean you. I wanted that to happen, but I shouldn't have.”

“Why not?”

She'd almost forgotten that she'd felt the same.

“After what happened with my wife, I promised myself I would never rush into anything.”

The mention of his wife made her stomach twitch with jealousy, which she knew was ridiculous.

“Well I'm sorry,” Delilah walked towards the steep road, not knowing where she was going, “I'm sorry I agreed to come here.”

She didn't get far, because Nolan's hand grabbed her wrist, swinging her around, back into his arms. She let him hold her in place for a second before squirming free.

“I like you Delilah,” he smiled, “It's crazy and impossible, but I like you, and I can't help it. You're the most fascinating woman I've ever met.”

“Fascinating?” she crinkled her face, not knowing if it was a compliment.

“You're different to anybody I've ever met, and you confuse and intrigue me, and you make me feel things I thought I'd never feel again.”

Delilah didn't know how to tell him she'd been feeling the exact same. It was as if he had the confidence to say what she'd been frantically denying to herself every time she was with him.