Page 64 of The Fool
His words bring a lump to my throat, and I have to knock back my shot to stop myself from doing something that will make me look foolish, like crying. I’ve not been called beautiful in a long time, and even then, it was by Dean, who took it all back the moment he got into bed with my sister. I was called a lot of things, none of them nice, so to be called beautiful by Nathaniel Carter, of all people, is a shock.
“Truth or dare, Nate?” I whisper.
“Dare,” he says calmly.
“I dare you to kiss me.”
I swallow hard, feeling completely terrified about what I have just asked him to do. When he reaches his hand out to hold my cheek, leaning in closer, and with the anticipation building, it sends wild butterflies to my stomach. As our mouths touch, he ever so gently caresses my lips with his, as if being careful not to push me too fast. He pulls away for a moment, looking into my eyes before whispering, “more?” I can only nod, yes. This time he pulls my hand and throws it behind his neck, prompting me to move the other one to meet it. His hands move to my waist, and he tugs me in closer, with his kiss becoming more desperate. He eventually swipes his tongue across my mouth, and I open in acceptance.
It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed someone, and God, I’ve missed it. The heat, the passion, and the emotion behind it; it’s what I had once lived for, especially in the early days of mine and Dean’s relationship.
As our tongues collide, he moves closer and I instinctively slide my body down the couch, so he is bracing himself on top of me, moving to lie between my legs. A growing bulge in his jeans presses against my core, and I suddenly pull back in a mild panic.
“Bea,” he whispers, pushing a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry, we’re just kissing, nothing more.”
“Sorry,” I reply, with a creeping blush spreading over my face and neck. “It’s been a while and the last experience was not a good one.”
He sighs as he rests his forehead against mine, stroking my hair back in a soothing way, and I feel myself relaxing under his touch.
“I hope you know it wouldn’t be like that with me, but more importantly, don’t ever apologize for it. I’m throwing a party in my head over having just kissed you.”
We both laugh over his ridiculousness before we kiss again. His mouth moves down my jawline and to my neck where he licks and nips at my sensitive skin. I allow myself to close my eyes, to enjoy the intimacy I’ve not felt in such a long time.
“Shit, I’ve got to go, Bea,” he says, pulling away. “I have a meeting first thing and I think I better leave us on a high. I don’t want to push you and fuck it up…again!”
“Oh, ok,” I reply, trying not to show him how disappointed I am. “I’ll show you out.”
Before I can shuffle up, he holds my chin between his fingers and kisses me on the lips one more time.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow,” he demands, “at my place, I’ll cook. You can either come back here or stay in one of the spare bedrooms. No funny business, I promise. Except maybe making out a bit,” he says with a wicked grin, “or a lot.”
“Ok, what time shall I get a taxi?”
“I’ll come and get you after work,” he says, standing up and adjusting the bulge in his jeans, causing me to giggle. I then walk him to the door, where he kisses me chastely on the lips. “Until tomorrow then.”
Chapter 21
Bea
By Thursday lunchtime, I can’t work out if I’m excited or absolutely terrified of going to Nate’s house. I’ve also questioned my sanity several times during the course of the morning. I should be stepping back into the world of dating with someone who doesn’t make me feel weak at the knees every time I see him. Case in point, I haven’t managed to eat anything beyond half a cookie that was probably ready for the trash. Not that it mattered; I was feeling much too anxious to take note of things like taste.
And now I’m staring at my wardrobe, hoping that some perfect outfit will materialize from out of nowhere. I haven’t felt like this since I was a teenager, and it totally sucks. Even with Dean, a boy who I had been friends with since middle school, I hated all this dating crap. The nauseous sensation floating around your stomach, the stress of feeling the need to impress someone, and the pressure of having to dress up to meet someone’s approval, are all things I haven’t missed during my abstinence from men.
Dean used to love me when I got dressed up, looking like his prize cow to parade around in front of his friends. Short skirts, low tops, heavy makeup, and perfectly coiffed hair. I didn’t want to dress like that. Deep down, I knew he was trying to change me into something I wasn’t, but I did it anyway, for him, and he still cheated on me. And now, after years of trying to recover from everything, I’m not sure who I am anymore. Who is Beatrice Summers?
After another half an hour of staring at my reflection, all while trying not to freak out, I finally make a decision. Fuck it, I’m going to go for ripped jeans and a tank top. Let’s see how much Nate likes me for me. If I don’t measure up, then I know he’s no better for me than Dean was. I need to start taking charge of who I am and where my life is going. I am not going back to being the girl who gave into peer pressure and ended up trying to kill herself.
However, when the buzzer rings, I must admit, the urge to go and change is strong. Fortunately, Nate is knocking on my door before I have a chance to do a single thing about it.
When I open the door, I wince. Of course, he’s in his designer three-piece suit, complete with fuck off expensive shoes. I must look a complete state compared to him.
“Hi,” I say with a shy smile.
“Hi,” he returns, “are you ready?”
“I think so,” I reply, standing up straight to try and look more confident than I really am.
As we walk down the stairs together, I notice him looking me up and down with a devilish grin on his face.