Page 15 of Iowa Intellect
Nausea churns in my gut over the realization that I have likely hurt her feelings. It was brave of her to put herself out there like that. Having her splendid offer turned down was likely devastating.
I hate having any part in something that could make her feel in any way inferior. I also despise how we left things tonight. There is no way I’ll be able to get any sleep with the fear hanging over my head that she may think I don’t want her.
Deciding that she likely isn’t asleep yet after our emotionally charged interaction, I stalk towards my bedroom door, intent on setting things right with her.
When I fling the door open, I almost stumble into Caroline as she is lifting a hand to knock. We both startle and stare at each other with wide eyes.
After an awkward chuckle, we both speak at the same time. She says, “I was just coming to…” as I say, “I couldn’t sleep until…”
We both pause and process what the other has said.
“You go first,” she offers.
“Ladies first,” I insist.
Caroline bobs her head once. Her expression is filled with determination as she says, “I was just coming to clear the air with you. I don’t want there to be any lingering tension or hard feelings between us over what happened earlier. It’s obvious that I made a mistake, and I apologize for misreading the signs.”
Staring down at the ground, she adds, “It’s not your fault that you don’t want me in that way, and I truly hope it won’t negatively affect our working relationship.”
I reach out to lift her chin, but her gaze is still downcast. “You have nothing to apologize for, and you didn’t misread any signs. I do want you like that––more than you can possibly imagine.”
Her eyes lift to search mine.
Locking gazes with her, I do my best to silently convey my complete sincerity.
She looks unconvinced, so I take her hands within mine as I say, “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you. The more I’ve been around you and gotten to know you, the more my romantic feelings for you have grown.”
“That can’t be true.” She shakes her head, obviously not believing a word I’m saying. “You are just trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate that, but you don’t need to do it. I’m a grown woman, and a realist. I can handle the truth. It’s not like men are knocking down my door.”
“If they’re not, then they’re crazy,” I mutter, disgusted with my own kind for making this woman feel in any way unworthy of love.
“It’s okay.” She goes back to staring at the ground. “I’ve always been the dorky, smart girl, so I’m used to males completely looking past me. You’re not the first, and I’m sure you won’t be the last. I just wish I hadn’t pushed us into this uncomfortable situation.”
Even to my dense skull, it’s quickly becoming obvious that this woman truly believes herself to be undesirable. It makes absolutely no sense for her to have this distorted view of herself, and I want to put a stop to it right now.
Words clearly aren’t working, so I do the only thing that makes sense in this moment. I lean forward and crush my lips to hers.
16
CAROLINE
Brock kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. It’s filled with desire, passion, and a hint of danger. I can’t get enough of it. In fact, it’s all I can do to hold myself back from jumping up and wrapping my legs around him. He’s built like a big, strong tree. I have no doubt that if I climbed him like one, he could easily hold me.
We’re both breathing heavily when I force myself to pull back and give him one last chance to back out. “You don’t have to do this. I’m tough, and I can handle rejection. I’ll be fine.”
He slowly shakes his head as he looks deeply into my eyes. “I wish you could see yourself from my perspective. You are the most intriguing, desirable woman I’ve ever known, and any idiot who has ever made you feel otherwise deserves to be pounded senseless.”
Although he sounds like a caveman, I can’t stop my lips from tipping up at his vehement threat. My heart aches to believe him, but something buried deep inside me silently screams that his wonderful words can’t be true. I’m not the alluring temptress type. I’m the girl sitting on the sidelines of all the fun with her nose buried in a book. It’s impossible for me to see myself any other way, despite how much I’d enjoy the fantasy.
My nerdy demeanor is probably the reason behind why I created my mermaid alter ego. Sparkly Pacifica is everything I’m not––bubbly, beautiful, and beguiling.
Proving himself to be incredibly insightful, Brock’s eyes draw downward. I could swear he’s looking directly at my soul as he asks quietly, “Why don’t you believe me?”
“Because I know the truth.” Hoping to appease his worries, I say, “It’s truly fine. I’ve made my peace with being utterly forgettable to the opposite sex.”
“Does this look like a man who is going to forget about you any time soon?”
My gaze follows his as he looks down at his crotch. The impressive bulge straining for release from his jeans is undeniable.
