Page 4 of Against the Odds

“Fine, say what you have to say.”

“It’s late and, while I enjoy our time together, I cannot sit in this damn chair any longer. I propose we lie down on the bed until the lovebirds knock on the door.”

I glance from him to the bed. It’s a king, plenty big enough for two people to lie on and not touch. Yet, it feels intimate. Like we’re crossing a line from two strangers who are keeping one another company to considering more. Or maybe that’s my libido and exhaustion speaking. When I yawn so hard my eyes water, Ian stands and pulls his button-up shirt from the waist of his pants and unfastens his belt, tossing it on the desk. His shirt quickly follows, leaving me with my mouth gaping at the scene before me. This is like a scene out of a movie. Ian seems to be oblivious to my not-so-subtle staring.

“You’re exhausted. Come on. There’s an invisible line right down the middle. Rachel already mentioned you have a morning flight. Grab a little sleep or at least rest. The sun will rise before we know it.”

He has a point. It’s late. Hours past my preferred bedtime. My shoes are already somewhere in the suite and the zipper of my skirt loosened before I settled in this chair to stuff my face with cake. Contemplating the move, I watch Ian settle on top of the covers still dressed. The cotton T-shirt he wore under his button-up is snug but not too snug, the buttons of his pants loosened, and his socks discarded. His arms rest behind his head and his eyes are closed. The picture of relaxed.

Quietly, I stand and move across the room. Tapping the screen of my cell phone, I set the alarm for three hours from now. Our flight isn’t first thing but we also don’t have the morning to lounge either. With that set, I gingerly climb onto the bed and see a grin forming on Ian’s lips.

“Oh shut up.”

He laughs. I do too.

Lying on my side with my hands tucked under my cheek, I curl my knees closer to my chest. Ian reaches over to the bedside lamp and flips the switch before turning to face me, his position similar to mine. The room is dark but the curtains are still open allowing the lights of a still active strip to filter in the room. It is quiet, only our breathing and the low hum of the air conditioning fill the void. Like the nights I’ve had caffeine too late in the day, my mind isn’t tired.

“Lying like this makes me want to share a secret.” My voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

“The darkness makes it feel safe. Like if we can’t see one another’s expression the secret is protected.”

I smile, not because he can see it but because he understands what I mean. It does feel safe. Like whatever we share from this point forward stays here. Between us. Safe and secure in a dark room where nobody else can hear. A town that holds secrets in every wall is almost an invitation to share our own.

“I’ll share mine first,” Ian offers.

“Okay.”

My heart races as I brace for his confession. A sense of power forms deep in my gut because he trusts me enough to share first.

“I saw you across the club before Kevin noticed your sister. You took my breath away. The way you laughed with your entire body. A smile I could see through a sea of people. I wanted to know you.”

I’ve never been so grateful for the darkness as I am now. If he could see the way my skin is flushed or feel my pulse racing, Ian would know how much his words affect me.

ChapterFour

“Wow. I’m not sure I know how to respond to that.”

I imagine the smile on his face as he snickers. He’s done that a few times tonight. Laughed along with me, not at me. I’ve dated men—not that we’re on a date or anything—who have not gotten my sense of humor or even appreciated my honesty. Ian has told me more than once that he finds both refreshing.

“You don’t need to respond, Katy. But, you do have to share something.”

For some reason, this moment feels important. I could stick with truth or go a different route with something superficial and cheeky. Only I want to give him what he’s given me. Honesty. He’s a stranger I’ll never see again. I might as well use this as an opportunity to speak words I only mull around in my head.

“I miss being held.”

There. Simple and to the point. The truth but not overly emotional. I do miss being held. I also miss kissing and lovemaking. Loving and being loved. Although I’m not certain I’ve truly experienced love in its true form. Yes, I love my sister and our parents. I’ve maintained friendships from childhood that I hold dear. The family of friends I’ve created in Lexington is solid and full of love. But an all-encompassing romantic love has eluded me.

“Would it be wrong to say I’ve been known to be an excellent cuddler. Some may say I excel at the task. Superior big spoon at your disposal.”

Snorting, I smack his chest with the back of my hand. Before I can pull back, Ian snatches it and holds it to him. The laugh that was beginning to build dissolves into the space between us.

“You laugh, Katy, but it’s true. I once saw a television program where people actually pay others to cuddle with them. I’m not alone. The world is full of supreme cuddlers. Besides, a cuddle is essentially a hug except two people are lying down. Why can we hug but not cuddle someone? Seems a little prejudicial to cuddling.”

“You’ve said cuddle quite a few times. I have to admit, it’s sweet. A little surprising but still, sweet.”

“I’m not always sweet.”

Before I can retort, Ian pulls on my hand a little dragging me toward him. Fine, I don’t even put up a fight. In seconds, my body is close enough to his that I can smell his cologne. My goodness that’s nice. Woodsy with a slight hint of citrus. If his scent was a candle I’d buy two.

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