“So,” I say as we pass by another vendor trying get us to try out the latest skin care product. “Did you always know you were adopted?”
It’s a personal question and I’ve tried to avoid those kind until this point. Maybe it’s the relaxed day we’ve had, maybe it’s the way I’m enjoying his closeness, but for some reason I find myself wondering.
Julian nods. “I don’t think I really understood what it meant or the significance of it until I was at least twelve, but yeah. I always knew. My parents were always open about it.”
“Have you ever met your birth parents?” I ask as I look over at him. “You said they were very young.”
“I’ve never actually talked to them,” he says. His eyes are distant, contemplative. He looks beautiful. “But I did look them up my senior year of high school. My biological dad worked at a water treatment plant. As far as I could tell, he didn’t have a family or a wife or anything.”
“And your mom?” I encourage when he hesitates. I instantly regret asking. This is getting too personal and it’s obviously a sensitive topic for Julian.
“I looked her up too. She was married and had two little kids. A boy and a girl,” he says with a hint of a smile. “They seemed happy.”
I’m not sure what to say. Julian doesn’t seem sad or regretful, but his countenance is serious, something I don’t see him as genuinely very often. Do I comfort him or tell him he was still better off being with his adoptive family? I’m honestly not sure how to handle this intensely personal situation.
“It’s weird to think I technically have two half siblings out there somewhere when I grew up as an only child,” he says and suddenly he has a smile on his face. “Not that I minded. I was spoiled.”
He chuckles and I am relieved when the mood lightens.
“I’ve got one more stop I’d like to make now that it is getting dark,” Julian says as we head back up to street level. We catch a cab and drive a few minutes.
The air has grown cool and moist when we step out. The moon is full and looms huge and bright in the sky.
I look up and up, to the top of the CN tower.
“Up we go,” Julian says as he offers me his arm once again. I take it and together we go inside.
Despite the fact that it is a Friday night, it is fairly quiet. As we step into the glass elevator, we are the only ones. We start the ascent to the observation deck.
“This is beautiful,” I say as we rise. I look out over the city. Lights glitter in every direction, except the darkness of Lake Ontario. I have the slight feeling that I am drifting out into space through the darkness, with only the twinkle of the stars to light the way.
Julian’s hands touch my sides, and hesitantly, giving me the option to step away, slides them around until his arms are wrapped around my waist.
But I don’t step away. I smile to the glass in front of me and place my hands over his.
When the doors finally open, we turn to leave, and I slide my hand into Julian’s.
We wander slowly, taking in the view, my hand in his. Finally, we come to an area that is devoid of any other life. Julian circles me to stand in front of him, keeping my right hand in his left. He slips his other hand to my back and guides my hand to his shoulder.
“Would you dance with me?” he whispers quietly in my ear. Without waiting for my response, he slides his left foot forward, leading my right back.
Julian holds me close as he leads me through a rumba basic step, and then an underarm turn. His hand comes once again to my back, and hugs me tight. My chest brushes his and the scuff of his face scratches my cheek.
It is a feeling that I like.
Julian does a turn, and suddenly he is behind me. He places a hand on my stomach, the other still holding my hand out to the side. His feet lead me to step forward and then side, side, my steps mirroring his.
Our bodies are molded together and certain muscles in my body are tingling and quivering. And with our close proximity, I can tell that Julian feels the same way.
He turns again so we are face to face. He leads me into a basic and then turns us as we continue the basic.
He finishes us off by leading me into an underarm turn, but keeps me spinning until I lose my balance and he drops me into a deep dip.
This would be the perfect moment for him to kiss me. There are glittering lights and we’re alone and there is no one around to pass judgment.
But this is a first date. And we both seem to have silently agreed that we need to slow things down.
Julian stands me back up, his eyes warring with lust and excitement and the knowledge that something in my past makes it so he needs to keep himself in check. So, he takes my hand in his again, and leads us into the restaurant.
I realize through dinner that there is no denying the heat that exists between Julian and I. Sparks flew the first time we met, that night where I tumbled with him into the backseat of my car without even knowing his name. We have been orbiting around each other for weeks now, just waiting to collide and explode into something cosmic and grand.
I know it is coming. I eagerly await it.
But maybe I like a little torture too, because I plan to enjoy the grand climb leading up to the climax.
My heart races through dinner and I cannot keep my eyes from Julian. We do not say much, but the tension between us is intense and very real.
By the time we finish eating, I feel out of breath and yet ready to run a marathon with all the pent up emotions I am holding in.
Neither of us says anything as we descend the tower, once again enjoying the magic of the night. We stand side by side, hand in hand, keeping a bit of distance between us before either of us spontaneously combusts.
Julian once again hails a cab and we climb into the back seat. I sit on one far side, he sits on the other, a needed yet torturous distance away.
“As far as first dates go,” he says, his eyes staring at me through the dark. “How does this one rank?”
I bite my lip to try and hold in the smile. It doesn’t work.
“I’d say this one ranks pretty high,” I say through the suppressed smile.
Julian smiles back. “Nothing too scary and personal shared that will chase you away from maybe accepting a second date?”
I feel ridiculous and cheesy and I can’t wipe the smile from my face. “Well, I’m not sure I’ve gotten enough information on you yet. I mean, I still don’t even know what you do for a living.”
Julian’s hands rest on his thighs again and I hate that they are on his legs instead of mine. “I work in computers. I’m a private developer; thus my work schedule is spotty. How’s that for boring sounding?”
“Hmm,” I nod. “So you’re a computer geek who dances, dresses as nice as I do, and loves rock music. An interesting combination. At least I shouldn’t get bored any time soon.”
“I would sure hope not.”
“Here you are,” the driver says through a thick Asian accent. I pay the fare and we climb out.
I take the initiative this time and grab Julian’s hand as we walk through the doors of the hotel. We enter the elevator and it starts to rise.
“I am trying to decide if I feel robbed of the drop-off doorstep, goodnight scene,” Julian says as he looks down at me. “Or if I’m pretty damn lucky that I know I get to spend the night.”
“Plenty of women let men stay the night on a first date,” I say with a coy smile. “But not quite in the same way.”
The elevator lets us out on our floor and we walk to our room. The maids have been by in our absence. They’ve moved all the pillows and blankets back to the bed from the couch, and turned the bed down. They’ve left mints for two.
Julian keeps catching my eye as we get ready for bed. We brush our teeth side by side in the bathroom before I kick him out so I can change into my nightgown. While I am behind locked doors, he takes a pillow and blanket to the couch and pulls on a pair of flannel night pants and a plain blue t-shirt.
I
tug at the hemline of the nightgown as I step from the bathroom. I love that Julian’s eyes take all of me in, but I also feel self-conscious.
A smile forms on Julian’s face and I come to the doorway and lean against the frame. Julian stands just inches from me.
“Looks like you get the goodnight, door scene after all,” I say quietly, studying Julian’s lips.
“Guess I do,” he breathes. He reaches a hand up and lets his fingertips brush the side of my face before tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
“Thank you for planning the perfect first date,” I say, looking up into his eyes.
“Does this mean I get the privilege of taking Sage McCain on a second tomorrow?” There is genuine hope in his voice.
I bite my lower lip and give a nod.
“I eagerly look forward to tomorrow then,” he whispers. “Goodnight, Sage.”
“Goodnight.” My heart is racing as I let him slide the doors closed between us and let perfect moment number two slip away.
Every nerve ending in my body wanted to kiss him, but I am also enjoying the prolongation of the moment.
That doesn’t mean I don’t go to bed that night sexually frustrated.
CHAPTER NINE
I wake early the next morning, long before Julian stirs, so I pull my laptop out and search for some way to repay the excellent day Julian planned yesterday.
He planned the perfect first date, but I will nail the perfect second.
We spend the middle chunk of the day ice skating at an indoor rink I find. My balance is not as good as Julian’s. Not surprising, considering Julian is an excellent dancer. He holds my hand most of the time, and we make our way around the rink. I feel stupid and terrible at it. And I hate that feeling. But for just this day, I don’t mind not looking perfect in front of him.
We grab a quick bite to eat around seven and then I rush us off in the taxi to a more central part of the city.
“What is this place?” Julian asks as we climb out of the cab. There is a line forming around the side of the building. “Is this a club?”
“Sort of,” I say, taking his hand and leading him to the front of the line. I hand the bouncer a piece of paper and he unhooks the blockade and ushers us inside.
The space is dark and not particularly nice, but it is exactly what I would expect for a music venue. There is an extensive bar off to one side and a stage at the forefront of everything. A full set is already arranged up on the stage: drums, guitars, basses, and microphones.
“Sage, what’s going on?” Julian asks, confusion on his face.
“If you’ve got a VIP pass, you’d better hurry back for the meet and greet,” a man who is standing next to a door by the stage says.
“Come on!” I say excitedly, pulling Julian towards it. Julian hesitantly follows.
There is a small crowd of about ten other people in the backstage room. They all wait with nervousness on their faces and the air is excited and on edge.
“What are we doing, Sage?” Julian once again asks, leaning close to me and whispering.
“Just wait a second, you’ll see,” I whisper back.
“Thank you all for waiting,” a woman says, who appears suddenly and silently as if from nowhere. “And thank you for your support of Suit. The band will be coming in in just a minute and you’ll get the chance to hang out and talk.”
“Suit?” Julian breathes. “Suit is here?” He looks down at me with big eyes.
I nod, my lips in a tight, proud smile.
“And we’ve got VIP tickets? They’re coming out here in a minute?” A small sweat has broken out on Julian’s forehead and his eyes are a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
Just then, four guys walk through the curtain separating this room from the stage. Everyone except me and Julian start clapping. He’s still too stunned to do or say much of anything.
The lead singer, who I looked up and learned is named Jackson Tate, looks nothing like a country singer despite how his name sounds. He is instead dressed in a tailored suit and his hair is styled and slicked back. He has the looks that would make the panties fall off of nearly any woman.
The rest of the band is dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts and leather jackets.
They get their name from the fact that their lead singer always performs in a suit.
“How did you know this was my favorite band?” Julian asks, turning stunned eyes on me.
“You were dead asleep when I woke up this morning,” I say as he slides an arm around my shoulders. “I grabbed your phone and started scrolling through your music, trying to think of ways to get out of debt for yesterday. You had about five albums from Suit, so I figured you must like them a lot. I was more thinking for future, but they happened to be playing here tonight and well, I got tickets!”
“You are seriously amazing!” Julian gives a breathy and stunned laugh and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
The band has worked their way through the crowd and Jackson is nearing us. I slip into the background as he engages Julian in a conversation and let him have this moment. I can tell he’s nervous, but he’s talking excitedly and his eyes are bright.
I enjoy the music enough, but I have to admit, I am not an avid music buff. So while Julian sings along to every song once the show gets started, not that I can hear him over the pounding speakers, I simply nod my head along throughout. Jackson Tate performs with enthusiasm and engages well with the crowd. Julian and I both put our hands up to him during the concert and he grabs our hands twice.
The show doesn’t get over until just after midnight and I am relieved when we finally get outside because the club has grown hot and humid with the taste of body sweat and beer in the air.
We stop on the curb and wait for a cab to drive by. The crowd from the club disburses around us, some waiting for a cab as well, others headed for their cars or walking to their destination.
“That was amazing,” Julian starts babbling. “I’ve been listening to these guys for over eight years and it has never worked out for me to go to one of their shows. You happen to pop online and find they’re performing two miles away from where we are staying…?” Julian seems to be at a loss for words.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the show,” I say with a smile when he looks down at me, a slight look of awe on his face. “How was this for a second date?”
A huge smile breaks on Julian’s face and he pulls me into his arms, hugging me tight to him.
“If this wasn’t a second date, I think I might ask if you’d marry me,” he laughs.
My heart skips at least two beats, but thankfully I don’t have to overthink what he said too much, because just then, a cab pulls up to the curb. Julian holds the door open for me and I slide in.
The taxi driver has the heat blasting and even I am too warm. Julian slides his jacket off, revealing his tattooed arms under his short sleeved shirt.
Something tightens in my lower belly at the sight of Julian’s toned forearms. Small veins stand out from his skin, creating a few rises and valleys across his arm.
I let a single finger trace the path of a snake that wraps around his wrist and makes its way up his arm.
The entire drive home, I let my fingers outline the many images that decorate Julian’s beautiful skin.
I’m almost disappointed when the taxi pulls up in front of the hotel and lets us out.
On the elevator ride up, Julian wraps his arms around me from behind and I can feel his breath, hot and slightly fast, on the side of my neck. The doors slide open and I step out, taking his hand once again, and leading him to our room.
I feel as if I have half the club still clinging to my skin, so when we get to the room, I immediately opt for a shower. I don’t know what I am doing when I intentionally do not lock the bathroom door. I strip down and climb into the warm cascading water.
But Julian is trying very hard to be a gentleman and the doorknob never moves.
I br
ush my hair and pull on the extra nightgown I brought with me. I open the door, steam billowing out from the room and find Julian sitting on the bed. He gives me an approving smile before slipping past me and closing the door. A second later, I hear the water turn on.
A wicked part of me wants to join him.
Instead, I climb in between the sheets in the middle of the bed and turn the lights out. I lay on my side, my back to the bathroom.
I listen as the water eventually turns off and it is a few minutes later before the door opens. Julian clicks the light off when he sees I am lying in the bed and I hear him carefully shuffle toward the couch. I faintly hear him climb under the blanket and it is quiet and dark for a few minutes.
My pulse is racing and I feel so keenly aware of him across the room. Every part of me hums with life and I feel as if I could float right off this bed. I am so filled with something else I won’t put a name to—it’s an awful lot like lust—I fear I may explode.
“Julian?” I say quietly.
“Hm?”
“I don’t like that you’re so far away.”
I can feel my face flush at the admission and blood rushes to other parts of my body. But thankfully it is dark and Julian will never be able to see it.
I hear him shifting and then feet shuffle across the room. A second later, the blankets are lifted and he slips between the sheets.
Julian’s arm slides around my waist and the shape of his body forms perfectly around mine.
“Is this better?” he whispers against my ear.
I am on fire now. What was I thinking, feeling this sexually energized and inviting a man into my bed? Am I trying to torture myself?
But I still answer “Yes.”
——
When I wake up the next morning, my head is on Julian’s chest. His hand is resting lightly on my head and my hand is spread across his breast. Julian’s face is turned toward me, his nose poking slightly into my hair.
I smile, everything in me feeling right and comfortable and at ease.
Until I see the time on the clock.
I swear and jump up. “Julian!” I say as the sheets tangle around my feet and I half topple out of the bed. “Our flight leaves in just over an hour!”