Page 199 of Boyfriend of the Hour
I leaned forward to oblige, enjoying the delicious fullness and the way he sucked at my bottom lip like a piece of candy he wanted to devour.
We moved like that for some time, losing track of the places where one of our bodies ended and the other began. We whispered hushed phrases and unintelligible gasps in between merciless drives, our hands grasping for the other just to keep from floating away in a sea of pleasure.
But it wasn’t really Nathan’s body or voice or anything else that kept me rooted in this reality.
One word echoed while the others faded. The most important word of all.
Love.
“So, what should we do today?”I asked as I emerged from the shower in one of the hotel’s plush robes. “Marie said Montmartre is fun. Full of artists. Or we could go see those paintings you told me about yesterday—everything all right?”
Nathan was sitting on the bed in a matching robe that barely fit his big body, thumbing through his phone with a frown. He’d put his glasses back on but, otherwise, looked deliciously rumpled, his hair a curly mop from my ministrations.
“Seriously,” I said when he didn’t answer. “That’s quite an expression for a man who’s had his mind blown for the past twenty-four hours.”
He looked up, and I watched him slowly register the joke before he rearranged his features into a smile and then held out an arm for me to join him.
I went, allowing him to gather me to his side.
“Everything is…well, I don’t know if I would call it fine. Do you still want to dance?”
I sat up, taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. “Dance? Like on the Seine?”
“No. Like as a job. Is it still what you want to do?”
“I…” I hadn’t even thought about it. That was the one thing two months of misery over Nathan had given me—a reprieve from grieving the loss of my career.
Nathan waited for me to figure it out.
I sat cross-legged and toyed with the wet ends of my hair. “Yes, but?—”
“Good,” he interrupted. “Because that’s the other reason I’m here. I got a message from Jayce—Dr. McAndrew. He has an opening in his schedule this week. He said he could repair your knee on Thursday. I told him you would be there.”
My mouth fell open. “You did what?”
Nathan turned, full of urgency. “I can cancel if you want, but it’s already paid for. I still owe you six months’ rent anyway. You’ll have the surgery, stay with me while you recover, and you should be able to go back to Opal within a month. Seems like a fair trade, in my opinion.”
My mouth opened and closed like a fish. I was completely and utterly shocked. Was this for real?
“I meant what I said that day in the studio,” he said. “Call me a benefactor if you want, or just call me your boyfriend, but either way, Joni, I believe you deserve another chance at your calling. So, I’ll ask you again, and this time, I want you to think carefully about it: do you want to dance?”
I didn’t have to think about it. I didn’t even have to wait.
“Yes,” I said, my voice warbling with the intensity of my emotions. “Yes, I want to dance.”
I launched myself at him, squeezing him so hard I was sure he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t push me away, though. He only hugged me back harder and accepted my kisses that said all the words I couldn’t find through my emotions.
“Thank you,” I finally managed when I pulled back. “It doesn’t even cover it, but thank you.”
The bashful smile on Nathan’s face was a thing of beauty as he straightened his glasses. “We love each other,” he said simply. “Doesn’t love mean you want the other person to be happy? Shouldn’t we try to help each other however we can?”
It was so simple.
And yet, so hard to fathom.
“Yes,” I said softly. “I think we should.”
He smiled, and it lit up the room. “Good, then it’s settled. We’ll go back to New York. And then, unfortunately, I’ll have to go back to Virginia while you recover.”
