“My pleasure.”
Half his plate is already emptied when I’ve only taken a few bites, my appetite waning. “Would you like mine?”
“You don’t like it?”
I glance at his plate and back up at him. “I do, but you look hungry.”
“Thanks, but this will hold me.” His laughter fills the space. What he said wasn’t a joke, but it’s funny that he cracks himself up. I can only imagine what’s going on in his head.
After pushing my food around on the plate, I ask, “What are your plans for the day?”
“Not sure.”
“Are you going to see your girlfriend?” I accuse, the words bursting from my mouth like a bad case of food poisoning.
“What? What girlfriend?” His plate is discarded to the nightstand, and he stares at me like I grew a third eye. “What are you talking about?”
“You were right. We don’t know anything about each other.” Throwing my hand in the air, I angle it toward the door. “You could have a girlfriend back in California for all I know.” I shrug. “How would I know? How would she know that you just slept with me? God, I hate cheaters.”
Grabbing hold of my hand, he brings it between us, still holding it in his. “Slow down, Tatum.” When the anger I spun up inside like a hurricane begins to lessen, he says, “I don’t have a girlfriend. Not in California or anywhere else. I’m single. What I told you last night is the truth. I haven’t been with a woman in five months or more. I haven’t been serious about anyone in over four years. So I don’t know where this train of thought came from, but you can ask me anything, and I’ll tell you the truth.”
My heart is racing again but for different reasons—him—and his honesty. “I’m sorry.”
He looks down at our clasped hands, and asks, “Don’t you think Natalie would have told you if I had a girlfriend?”
“Stop being logical. My mind went into a momentary tailspin.” When his gaze meets mine, I add, “I’m not always loveable. Being burned time and time again does that to someone.”
“I’m sorry you’ve experienced that, but I’m not looking to burn you. Last night was good, don’t you think?” He pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses it.
The feel of his lips against my head brings a sense of security, safety found in the truth of his words. Temporary. I have to remind myself not to get invested. “It was, but—”
“Let’s save the buts for another day.” Lying back, he rests his head against the headboard while still holding my hand.
Why can’t I enjoy what this is in the moment instead of worrying about what’s next when it comes to us? The past might be the best indicator. I silence my fears instead of voicing them, willing to try anything to live in the right here and now like him.
I lie next to him at first but eventually move in and cuddle. His arm wraps around me, holding me close, and then he kisses my head. It’s easy to lose track of time with him.
Not sure what time of day it is, I glance at my clock on the nightstand. 10:15.
“Oh, shit.” I jump up, scrambling to my feet. “I have brunch with my mother today.”
“What time?”
“Eleven thirty, but it’s a cab ride back to the Upper East Side.” I cut across the room to my main walk-in closet. “She gives me the hardest time if I’m even a minute late or have a hair out of place.”
“How will it go after yesterday?” Harrison asks.
“It will be fine. We’ll talk about what happened at dinner last night in passing, and she’ll move on. Nothing new. I’ll be fine. I’m used to it.”
“That doesn’t sound healthy.”
“Healthy,” I say, laughing humorlessly. I come out with a dress and my undergarments. “It’s sweet that you think it should be. Every family has its difficulties, Harrison. I’m sure my family’s no different.”
I think of Natalie. Her parents were there for me when mine were away for business or pleasure, sitting in the front row for us when we graduated and planning parties to celebrate our big days—sweet sixteen, high school graduation, and then a big dinner at one of our favorite restaurants after we graduated college. It took months to coordinate and make happen after we walked across that stage, mainly because it was hard to pin my parents down for a date. Yet they could turn up for my best friend’s anniversary party at the last minute. Makes me wonder if that was only because Martine and John St. James were attending since they’re best friends. A fly-in, fly-out visit to New York to see their friends sounds reasonable.
If only they’d do the same for their daughter.
“My family can be so annoying. I’m lost in the middle of this pack of kids. It’s loud at the dinner table. Forget about being heard. The schedule conflicts—my sister’s ballet, baseball games, missed plays, and award banquets. Hell, they forgot to pick me up after the regional championship one time. Simply slipped their minds because my brother had been in a car accident.” He watches me pick out my jewelry. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t serious other than he took my dad’s new Porsche out for a joyride and got into a fender bender.”