7: Hold On Tight

Erin

     "Tell me what you mean," he says, watching me intently again.

     "I can't think!"

    "Then don't think! You said for me not to apologize for kissing you which tells me it's okay. Is it?"

     "You mean is it okay for you to kiss me?"

     "Yes, that's what I mean."

     "I don't know! How can I know? I just don't want you to apologize for it afterwards."

     The rapid-fire conversation we have comes to a halt for a second. He just stares at me like he's debating something.

     "Okay," he says and yanks me up to him as I let out a startled cry. He holds me securely as he crushes his lips to mine.

     Whoa. Whoa, Bryce! That wasn't me telling you to kiss me. .... but.... Holy crap this man can kiss! Something happens to me. I decide I can go with my plan and sort of do this. I can ... allow him to be this way. I think I need it. I cling to him and put everything I have, even if it isn't much, into the kiss.

     This isn't quite what I intended to happen when I set out this morning. I'd planned on telling him that I understood he'd gotten over whatever had happened (something I now know). I wanted him to know that I haven't gotten over what happened to me, but I wanted to ask him to help me just like he'd said. I'm still scared out of my wits, but I'd be crazy if I said I didn't have feelings for him.

     "Don't think about him," he says to me out of the blue.

     Huh? Oh. Sean. "I wasn't," I tell him. But now I am. Here I am, getting over someone I thought was wonderful, now in the arms of a man I hardly know that likes to move fast. Red flag here.

     "Good," he says and goes back to kissing me.

     I'm right. What am I doing? Yes, I really like him, but I also hardly know him. What if he's a player? I think I'd just shrivel up and die if I were to get hurt on top of hurt.

     "Stop it," he says, again making me think of Sean.

    Sean started out wonderful like this. He swept me off my feet, just like what would happen to someone in my book. Well, my old piece of crap book anyway. He was so romantic...

     "Erin..." he warns against my lips.

    Oh crap. I'm kissing one guy while thinking of another. "I'm sorry," I whisper, now actually guilty of what he'd been accusing me of a moment ago.

     He scowls and says, "If I ever see that son of a bitch...."

     Stop it, Bryce. "Just don't talk about him," I say simply. Get rid of him. I don't want to think about him. Quit mentioning him!

     "No problem," he answers me and just goes back to kissing me.

    Thoughts about wondering what the hell I'm doing run through my head. I could really come to like, love, Bryce, but I have to be careful. How can I be careful when all he has to do is just look at me in a certain way and I want to melt into a puddle at his feet? I have to slow this down. I try to pull back, but he won't let me. After that, I go back and forth from wanting him to release me to clinging to him. I must look ridiculous.

     He stands up and offers his hand to help me stand now. I'm really nervous. We have so much to talk about.

     "And here's where I don't apologize," he says, his eyes twinkling as he pulls me to him. He acts like he's about to kiss me again, but I lean away. Then he stops with a confused expression on his face.

     "I still have some things I need to say," I offer as an explanation. He simply stares down at me with that look again. I can't help but reach up to run my fingers through his hair, also using this as a way to hold him off for a minute.
     I try to think through his stare. I've known him for what? Not quite three days, and I already feel something for him. So far, it's been mostly physical. I suppose there's nothing wrong in that for someone who's emotionally unstable like I am. But, I sense that he actually does care that I've been hurt. Hopefully, I didn't imagine that.
     "You said you could get rid of the hurt," I say.
    "Erin, when I said that I wasn't thinking. I know for a fact that it's not that easy," he quickly responds before I can say another thing. He likes to interrupt.
     "Well, that's a shame you just contradicted yourself because I thought I could let you try to help. I want you to help. You already are anyway," I say and watch as a multitude of emotions cross his face. So strange, Sean was always so reserved.
     He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on mine with a strained look on his face. "I don't know if I can totally get rid of him, that takes time also. But, I want to start a serious relationship with you. And I've not wanted anything serious for a long, long time. I'd thought I'd forgotten how to be serious." His head still resting on my forehead, his brown eyes cut up to me, and he says, "So where does that leave us?"
     "I want to have a serious relationship as well. Part of me says I'm crazy for thinking this is a good idea, but it's only a very small part." He smiles and takes a breath like he's going to say something again, but I put my finger on his lips before he can and say, "I'm not saying I won't have moments where I act like the sky is falling, but I can say I'll try to bury those feelings I had for him away. I just know, especially after what you told me, that if there's anyone out there that can help me, it's probably you." I remove my finger from his lips. He has nice lips.

     I'm reminded of him saying that he wanted to just hold my face in his hands and stare at me all day when he places both hands on either side of my face. He drags his thumb across my lips, and I have that melting feeling again. Still, he looks at me with a concerned expression.
     "Burying them doesn't work, but I can do my damnedest to help you get over them," he says. I wonder if he can feel my pulse racing at my throat with his fingertips.
    "Rebound. Rebound. Rebound!" my subconscious taunts me. I tell it to shut the hell up. I like Bryce. This is not a rebound relationship. I don't even think I'm capable of that. I'd like to think I'm too nice for that. I just won't do that to someone. I've told him how unstable I'll be, and he wants me anyway.
      I have to ask, "So you're willing to put up with my crazy, unstable-ness?" I smile a small smile at him because of my insane question.
     He smiles back at me and says, "You're in good company. Yes, I can do that. Is it crazy that I want to? In addition to you being stunningly beautiful, we both have similar stories."
     I disagree with the beautiful bit. No, not with this chin, ears that stick out a little, glasses because contacts bother my eyes, and pointy nose. Still, I like that he thinks so.
     He leans forward a little and gently kisses my lips. I have to hold onto his shoulders because I fear my knees are going to give out on me since he's not got a tight hold of me. The kiss is really quite simple by most standards, but it's the emotion behind it that gets to me.
     I now don't worry about me getting hurt anymore - but him. I could really hurt him. If Lynne hadn't have said what she said I'd sort of doubt that thought, but with the way he's acting.... I worry about him. Strange, when it's me that has the power to hurt him, and I have no intention to do so.
     My stomach growls.
     He smiles a little down at me and asks, "Have you eaten breakfast?"
     I'd only had some coffee before I left the house this morning, so I shake my head no.
     Still smiling, he says, "Well, c'mon then. The diner ain't half bad."
     "Okay," I say simply, and we pile onto my little scooter. I let him drive it. I'd be worried about balance if I were driving with two people crammed onto it. Besides, this way I get to wrap my arms around his waist and hold on tight.

     "Oh, this diner," I say almost stupidly.
     "Yeah?" he asks, confused now.
     "Well, it's just... that's my house." I point caddy corner across the street.
     He smiles and says cryptically, "Simon was right."

     "Huh?" I ask him to explain.
     "Well, your house is the most recent one bought, and Simon, my brother-in-law, heard about it. When I mentioned you, well, when Adele mentioned you to my sister he guessed correctly."
    So, he has a sister and a brother-in-law, plus all those friends at the party last night, plus a daughter, I think as I watch him look like he's debating telling me something. He shakes his head the tiniest bit.
     We go inside to eat. Our waitress pays a lot more attention to Bryce than me. She gives me an almost disgusted look. I watch very intently as my food is cooked and delivered, making sure she doesn't spit in it or something.
     Meanwhile, Bryce attempts small talk. "So, do you like the house?"
    Since our food is delivered, I relax a little and answer him. "I don't like the house so much as the view." He smiles like he understands, and I continue, "I really only needed a place to sleep, bathe, eat, and put my computer."
     His eyebrows raise in surprise as he asks, "Why the computer in the list of necessities?"
    "Because I'm trying to become a writer," I say and blush, remembering my current book's main character is based upon the man sitting in front of me.
     I'm spared the possibility of him asking about my latest book when our waitress comes by and asks me if I want more coffee. I decline, worried about the pot of coffee in her hand. I notice she didn't offer Bryce any. When he asks for some, she all of a sudden says that she forgot that this pot was decaf and she'll be right back. Right.
     When we get up to leave, she asks Bryce to 'not be a stranger.' I have the strangest urge to pick up a napkin holder and throw it at her head. Okay, so it's not that strange. Bryce acts oblivious.

     After we exit the diner, I spontaneously turn around and ask him, "So, the waitress is an old friend of yours?" I've already forgotten her name.
      He winces the tiniest, almost invisible bit. "Yes. Well, I don't know if you could call her a 'friend.' My sister tried once to set me up with her. It didn't work."
     Why does that piss me off? He just said it didn't work. How many other women on the island am I going to run into that had been set up with him?
     His cellphone rings, and he answers it with an apologetic expression. Apparently, his daughter was at a sleepover last night and the parents of the other child are bringing her back home.
     He smiles down at me and says, "Let's go to my house so you can officially meet my daughter." He takes my hand and we walk over to where we parked my scooter.
     Yeah, okay... daughter. Sure. I can do that. Yeah... 'Hey Adele, come meet Daddy's new girlfriend.' My knees act like they want to lock with every step I take, causing my ponytail to swish back and forth while I bounce along as he pulls me behind him.