mouth, I woke up from my hypnotic state. I stepped back in near panic and promptly caught my heel in the rocks. I’d have hit the ground if Nick hadn’t held me tight. Thank God his searching look was not angry!
“I’m gradually getting the feeling you don’t find me simpatico. You’d rather fall on the ground than let me kiss you. Or have I got bad breath?”
I felt like a complete idiot. Out of pure embarrassment, I gulped and stared intently at the rocks underfoot. I finally pulled myself together and looked him directly in his questioning face.
“Nick, I . . .”
I still wasn’t clear about whether I should really tell him the reason for my contradictory behavior. He must have taken me for a terrible prude. But since he showed no trace of wounded vanity and seemed really concerned that I didn’t sink limply into his arms, I owed him an explanation. I took a deep breath and told him the whole ghastly story about Tim and me, including his remark about my physical inadequacies.
“Since then, I’ve never let a man come near me. Nick, it’s really not your fault. I think you’re tremendously appealing. But I couldn’t bear falling for it again.”
After finishing my confession, I was prepared for him either to laugh at me or think I was crazy. In any case, I assumed he’d want to whisk me off home and I would have guaranteed he’d never want to see me again. As I spoke, his face got increasingly dark, and when I finished, he clenched his fists.
“What is this asshole’s name and where exactly does he live?”
With that degree of anger on Nick’s face, Tim was in acute danger of losing his life, and I was glad to be able to say honestly that, as far as I knew, he’d flown off to Sydney after our trip and still lived in Australia. I didn’t hate him anymore; he was of no consequence to me. But the psychological damage his words and behavior had caused lingered. I astonished myself by entrusting Nick with the painful secret I’d so carefully guarded until now, and felt grateful that he didn’t mock me for it. His affectionate gaze did me good. He cautiously reached for my hand again.
“It’s something to be proud of, the fact that you got into my car today. May I have your cell number now?”
I gave it to him and with secret pride stored the numbers he dictated in my address book; he threw in the casual remark, “It’s my unlisted number.” Then he looked at his watch with regret.
“We should slowly work our way back. I’ve got a business dinner date with my agent.”
We walked back the same way, and Nick almost scared me to death when he suddenly ran ahead, skillfully climbed a thick tree trunk, gingerly stood up in a fork, and then balanced himself over the stream on a strong branch. Terrified, I held my breath. He stopped right over the stream that was filled with jagged boulders and began to bob up and down as he beamed down at me from up there. I was petrified and stared at him in a state of shock. He could slip any second. I implored him to come back down. He landed on the path in one jump.
“You were afraid? Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
“How do you know? You could have . . .” I stopped and shook my head. He flashed me a carefree smile. That was probably just a little demonstration of what he meant by “going to the edge” and “thrills.” I didn’t get it. To me, playing with your life and health was dangerous nonsense. But I didn’t say anything so as not to appear stuffy and ridiculous.
He made no further moves on the way to the car, which made me only partly happy. As we drove home, he regaled me with funny stories about shooting the series and anecdotes about his colleagues. We arrived at my apartment building far too quickly. Nick got out, held the door open for me, and scanned the facade of the unimpressive row house where my cozy second-floor apartment was. He regretfully refused my spontaneous and completely innocent invitation to come on up and
“I’m gradually getting the feeling you don’t find me simpatico. You’d rather fall on the ground than let me kiss you. Or have I got bad breath?”
I felt like a complete idiot. Out of pure embarrassment, I gulped and stared intently at the rocks underfoot. I finally pulled myself together and looked him directly in his questioning face.
“Nick, I . . .”
I still wasn’t clear about whether I should really tell him the reason for my contradictory behavior. He must have taken me for a terrible prude. But since he showed no trace of wounded vanity and seemed really concerned that I didn’t sink limply into his arms, I owed him an explanation. I took a deep breath and told him the whole ghastly story about Tim and me, including his remark about my physical inadequacies.
“Since then, I’ve never let a man come near me. Nick, it’s really not your fault. I think you’re tremendously appealing. But I couldn’t bear falling for it again.”
After finishing my confession, I was prepared for him either to laugh at me or think I was crazy. In any case, I assumed he’d want to whisk me off home and I would have guaranteed he’d never want to see me again. As I spoke, his face got increasingly dark, and when I finished, he clenched his fists.
“What is this asshole’s name and where exactly does he live?”
With that degree of anger on Nick’s face, Tim was in acute danger of losing his life, and I was glad to be able to say honestly that, as far as I knew, he’d flown off to Sydney after our trip and still lived in Australia. I didn’t hate him anymore; he was of no consequence to me. But the psychological damage his words and behavior had caused lingered. I astonished myself by entrusting Nick with the painful secret I’d so carefully guarded until now, and felt grateful that he didn’t mock me for it. His affectionate gaze did me good. He cautiously reached for my hand again.
“It’s something to be proud of, the fact that you got into my car today. May I have your cell number now?”
I gave it to him and with secret pride stored the numbers he dictated in my address book; he threw in the casual remark, “It’s my unlisted number.” Then he looked at his watch with regret.
“We should slowly work our way back. I’ve got a business dinner date with my agent.”
We walked back the same way, and Nick almost scared me to death when he suddenly ran ahead, skillfully climbed a thick tree trunk, gingerly stood up in a fork, and then balanced himself over the stream on a strong branch. Terrified, I held my breath. He stopped right over the stream that was filled with jagged boulders and began to bob up and down as he beamed down at me from up there. I was petrified and stared at him in a state of shock. He could slip any second. I implored him to come back down. He landed on the path in one jump.
“You were afraid? Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
“How do you know? You could have . . .” I stopped and shook my head. He flashed me a carefree smile. That was probably just a little demonstration of what he meant by “going to the edge” and “thrills.” I didn’t get it. To me, playing with your life and health was dangerous nonsense. But I didn’t say anything so as not to appear stuffy and ridiculous.
He made no further moves on the way to the car, which made me only partly happy. As we drove home, he regaled me with funny stories about shooting the series and anecdotes about his colleagues. We arrived at my apartment building far too quickly. Nick got out, held the door open for me, and scanned the facade of the unimpressive row house where my cozy second-floor apartment was. He regretfully refused my spontaneous and completely innocent invitation to come on up and
Similar Books
