He slipped off the glasses. “Felicia and I . . .”
I could not for the life of me decide where this was going. Had Felicia said something? Did she and Jackson break up? How would it affect my relationship with Abby if they broke up?
“Yes?” I said.
“It was like nothing I’ve ever done. I mean, we just talked, you know? Talked. Then we walked and we talked some more.” He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe it either. “She’s unbelievable. Like no one I’ve ever met. ’Course she’s smokin’ hot as well.”
I nodded. I supposed she was hot. If you liked redheads. I thought back to Abby—her lush brown hair, the graceful curves of her body. Felicia Kelly had nothing on Abby King.
“I grew up watching Mom and Dad,” Jackson said. “Watched Todd and Elaina fall in love. I mean”—his expression grew serious—“I just never thought I’d find what they had.”
I knew exactly what he meant.
“But now,” he continued, “whenever I’m with her, I feel like it’s there. Like I can reach out and touch it.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I should talk to Todd. But I thought if you understood, if you thought it was possible to find . . .”
Why would he think I knew anything? Me? I was in no position to offer any sort of advice. Especially on that subject. Surely he knew as much. I had no knowledge, no expertise whatsoever on relationships. Which is why the next words out of my mouth surprised us both.
“Of course I think it’s real,” I said. “That you can find it. And if you’ve found it with Felicia, I couldn’t be happier for you.”
Todd beat me at golf. It was a close game, but in the end, as I told him, everyone knew doctors didn’t really work. They just played golf all day. Of course he won.
After the game, I asked him if he wanted to go find a drink. I wasn’t sure why I’d decided to talk to him—maybe I still felt something of a natural high after the previous night.
Or maybe it was because Todd knew about my lifestyle and I finally felt like I could talk about it with someone close to me. I didn’t know. I think I just wanted someone to talk to.
Abby and I were to have dinner with Todd and Elaina later, but dinner was hours away and I didn’t want to spend those hours alone in the hotel room. Looking back, that drink with Todd would be both the best and the worst decision I ever made.
We sat down and I thought for a few minutes about how to approach the subject of my lifestyle with Todd. I finally decided to be direct.
“Abby told me you know about our lifestyle,” I said after the server took our order.
Todd’s eyes bulged out. Obviously, he hadn’t planned on me taking the direct approach.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I wanted to get it out there. I don’t want it to become the elephant in the room.”
He sat back in the booth. “That’s some elephant, Nathaniel. Are you sure you want to talk about this?”
“Why not? I have nothing to hide. But let me ask you—how did you find out?”
“Melanie visited a few months ago.” He paused briefly and I nodded. “I think it was hard on her, the breakup with you. She wanted to see some familiar faces and, once she saw us, she broke down.”
“I knew dating her was a bad idea.”
“Why did you do it?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to psychoanalyze me, are you?”
He laughed. “You’re my best friend. It would be unethical for me to psychoanalyze you.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Although it would be fun.”
“Shut up.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.” He grew serious. “Why did you do it?”
“I wanted to see if I could do a ‘normal’ relationship. It had been a long time.”
“How long?” He glanced around the nearly empty bar. “Listen, man, you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to. I get too close, you tell me to shut the f**k up, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay. I was in graduate school at Dartmouth. I’d had a few relationships, nothing serious, nothing too exciting. I wasn’t a girl magnet like Jackson. I didn’t meet the love of my life in the sandbox like you. Linda never said anything, but I knew she didn’t like me being alone all the time.”
“You never did bring anyone home.”
“I never found anyone I wanted to bring home. I had this friend, Paul, who was a dominant. I went to a few parties with him, hung out some.” I closed my eyes, thought back to the early years. “I never looked back. I enjoyed the lifestyle—grew to where I needed it. I’ve wondered, over the years, if my childhood had anything to do with it.”
“Probably not.”
“I thought you weren’t going to psychoanalyze me.”
Todd threw his hands up. “No analysis. Just my thoughts.”
“You have a lot of experience in this?”
“No, but I don’t think your parents’ deaths have anything to do with it. I don’t think it’s just one thing. I mean, why do some people like green and others blue? It’s just the way your brain works.”
“You don’t think it comes from some overwhelming urge to control everything?”
“Do you?”
I thought about the question. Thought back to my time with Melanie, and to Paige and Beth. And Abby. “No,” I said honestly.
“Okay then. There’s your answer.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “I always thought maybe there was something wrong with me.”
“You know better than that.”
“I know. I know.” I picked through the peanuts the server had brought. “It’s just hard sometimes.”
“Doesn’t look too hard lately.” He smiled. “You and Abby, huh?”
I ducked my head, images of the night before running through my mind. “She’s . . . not like anyone I’ve ever been with.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“A really good thing.” After last night, our relationship would only grow better.
“A really good permanent thing?”
“Hell, Todd, we’ve been together for only a little over a month. Give me a break.”
“Right, right, right.” He popped some peanuts in his mouth. “But the potential’s there?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m cut out for that.”
“See that?” He pointed at me. “That right there? I think that’s due to your childhood.”
“And this—” I pointed at him. “This right here? I think this is when I tell you to shut the f**k up.” I smiled so he would know I hadn’t taken offense, but that I meant every word.
“Sorry. It’s the job. Hard to quit, you know?”
“I don’t need a head shrink.”
He wasn’t paying me any attention. “It’s just that when my workaholic best friend brings a new woman around, walks with a spring in his step, and smiles all the time . . .”
“Knock it off, Todd.”
“And are those diamonds in her collar?” He wrinkled his brow. “I don’t remember any of your other girlfriends wearing diamonds.”
“I mean it.”
“And you’ve known her how long? A few weeks?”
I stood up.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’ll stop. Sit down and finish your beer.”
I took a long swig and looked at my watch. Still too early for the women to be finished at the spa. Damn. Why had I thought it a good idea for Abby to spend so much time away from me on a weekend?
My mind went back to the night before. How I’d held her in my arms and given her so much pleasure that she screamed.
“I meant to ask you,” Todd said, dragging me away from my pleasant thoughts again. “What ever happened to that girl you liked at Columbia? Wonder if Abby knew her.”
My mind was still hazy with thoughts of the previous night. That was the only reason I could come up with later to explain my unplanned admission.
“It was Abby.”
He set his beer bottle down and leaned close. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Wow.” He took a drink of his beer, swiveled the bottle. “What did she say when you told her?”
I broke out in a cold sweat.
Fuck.
“I—uh—I—” I stammered.
He raised an eyebrow. “You did tell her you’ve been somewhat obsessed with her, right?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
“I couldn’t tell her while she was still at Columbia,” I said. “I was already a dom and didn’t want to corrupt her. I knew we couldn’t have a normal relationship. That’s why I never approached her.”
“But that was six years ago. You must have told her when . . . when she became your submissive.”
“I didn’t exactly tell her then, either.”
“What?”
I had already admitted everything—there wasn’t any reason to lie. “I haven’t told her.” I didn’t add a “yet.” I wasn’t sure I’d ever tell her.
Todd’s jaw clenched. “You haven’t told her?”
“No. And don’t you go trying to be the morality police.”
“Wait a minute.” He held up a hand. “You followed this woman around for years—”
“I never followed her.”
“You damn well might as well have.” He sighed. “I knew you were up to no good, but now . . . f**k.”
“Stay out of it.”
“The hell I will. I won’t pretend to know or understand everything involved in this lifestyle of yours, but from what I do know, honesty and trust are two of the most important aspects.”
“Exactly,” I said. “You don’t know, so don’t try to act like you do. What have you done? Read a few books? Googled it?”
“I understand this,” he said, voice rising slightly. “You’ve deceived Abby.”
“I’ve never deceived Abby.”
“You deceive her every second you don’t tell her the truth.”
He was right. He was right and I knew it. He spoke my worst fear. Voiced the worries that nagged me as I fell to sleep every night.
You’re wrong, the worries said.
Tell her, they insisted.
I’d ignored them and pretended I couldn’t hear, but I no longer had that ability.
So I did the only thing I could do—I took the anger I felt at myself and turned it on Todd.
“Shut the f**k up,” I said. “You know nothing. Nothing. Everything is going just fine—”
“Fine?” he interrupted. “Fine? You think Abby will think what you’ve done is fine? I’ve seen her, Nathaniel. I’ve seen you. That woman is in love, and if you think she’s going to be fine when she finds out what you’ve done—”
“Who’s going to tell her? You?”
“I damn well might.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
We stared at each other for several long seconds, peanuts and beer left untouched at our elbows.
“I can’t do it,” I finally admitted. Not now. Not anymore. If I told her, she might hate me. And was she in love with me? Damn. I had to get out of the bar. Had to think.
“You don’t have a choice,” Todd said.
“The hell I don’t.”
“I love you, Nathaniel. You know that. But I can’t stand by and watch you harm her. I was wrong six years ago to remain silent. I won’t do it again.”