Chapter Thirty-Five
Cameron
"I guess," she said, non-committedly, walking in. I followed her inside, looking around. She was silent as she took her boots and jacket off in the entryway, not looking at me. "Were you waiting long?"
"No, not really." I had been waiting for about fifteen minutes. After I had knocked a few times and determined she actually wasn't home and hadn't just been ignoring me, I had tried to call her. That hadn't been successful, which made me wonder now seeing her why that was. I had had to get her number and address from Brett. Shitty, I knew, because in all the time we had been talking, I had never gotten her contacts, but this thing, our thing, wasn't like others I'd had in the past.
"You didn't answer my question," she said. Her hair looked different, I noticed. She looked... not different; it was the situation that was different, not her. I had just seen her the day before, but it felt longer than that. A lot had changed since we had last talked. For me at least. I could only speak for myself.
"I wanted to see you."
"How did you know where I lived?" she asked, walking away from me through a doorway. Following her, we were in her living room. I didn't know why I had never thought about what her space would look like. I guess I had in the beginning, but she had surprised me by not turning out to be who I had thought she was. Her house wasn't big, but not really small either. The living room had a fluffy white carpet on the ground under a glass coffee table. The couches were cream, and the walls were a powdery light blue color. Pillows on the couches were blue, same as the walls, white and grey.
"I asked Brett. I tried to call you."
"Sorry," she said shortly. She was silent for a second looking me up and down. "Is this going to take long?"
"What?"
"I still don't know what you want."
"Did you have plans tonight?"
"No, but not that it matters now. You might as well sit or something," she said. No, I hadn't expected her to greet me at the door with hugs and kisses, but it was painfully obvious that she didn't want me there. Whatever, just leave once you talk to her. I sat as she walked out of the living room. "Do you want something to drink or anything?" she called. I stood. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t wait around and lose my nerve to say what I had to say to her. I followed her out of the living room to the joint kitchen and dining room. She opened the fridge, looked inside, then closed it again.
"No, I'm good," I said. She turned and faced me.
"Then what do you want?"
"I had to talk to you after what happened yesterday." She nodded and turned around, opening the fridge again.
"I think we both got out everything that needed to be said," she said, speaking into the fridge.
"Natalie," I said, going up to her. I put a hand on her shoulder and relaxed when she didn't recoil.
"Am I wrong? Was there something else?" she asked. She turned slowly and looked up at me. "I'm pretty sure I heard you loud and clear yesterday. The sales meetings are going to start Monday. Was there anything else?"
"I made a mistake telling you what I did yesterday, Natalie."
"Mistake?" she asked, turning. "What part?"
"Saying I didn't feel the same way you do about me." She scoffed, looking down.
"And you want to say this to me now?" she asked, trying to move past me. "If I remember right, you said you didn't want anything to do with me."
"I didn't say that," I said, holding her arm to stop her walking away from me.
"I asked you whether you felt the same, and you said you didn’t. I didn't know there was more than one way to interpret that."
"Natalie, please," I said as she shook my arm off and walked back through to the living room. I followed her. "I didn't mean what I said. I lied to you."
"And you came all the way here just to tell me that?"
"Natalie, fucking listen to me. I'm trying to talk to you." She stood in the living room with her back to me. I heard her sigh. She ran her hands through her hair and walked to a couch, sitting.
"I felt like shit when we were together," she said. "I felt like a liar keeping what I had to say to you hidden while sleeping in your cabin every night. I felt like I didn't deserve it when we finally had sex, like I didn't deserve you no matter how much I wanted you."
"All that stuff about you feeling weird about me being my father's son?" I asked, going over to her.
"There was that too, but the guilt was still there. I hate myself for lying to you like that. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway, telling myself I was protecting you somehow. I was being selfish, and I'm sorry for doing that to you."
"I overreacted when you told me the truth the other day," I said, sitting next to her.
"No, you didn't."
"I should have tried to understand the position you were in. It was awkward for you trying to be there for me and do what Brett wanted at the same time."
"Awkward is one way to put it," she said.
"I was angry when I said that I didn't feel the same way you did about me. I was hurt. I was embarrassed, and I knew that if I told you that I didn't want you, I wouldn't have to see you again."
"I deserved that, I guess," she said. She was looking at the ground. I reached for her hand so she'd stop and look at me. I wanted her attention when I told her what I was about to say. It wasn't like it was this realization that had hit me out of nowhere after being separated from her. It had always been there. I had missed her when she had left. I wasn't just thinking about the next couple days and weeks with her; I had been thinking about moving back to Provo so we could be together. I wanted her in a way I thought would scare her away if I told her, but I had to.
Back out in the mountains, I hadn't been sure what exactly it was going to take to get me back down. I had known that it was just temporary, but I didn't know what it would be in the end that made me leave, pushed me with the same amount of force that losing my parents had in the opposite direction. I knew now, and I was looking at her. It had taking losing my parents to learn what they wanted for me, and it had taken almost losing Natalie to realize how much I wanted her.
"I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you." She was still looking down, but she squeezed my hand.
"It's okay. I understand," she said quietly.
"I lied when I said I didn't want you." She looked up at me. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn't know how or where to start.
"Why would you do that?" she asked.
"I was angry, and I don't know, I wanted to stay that way. I was hurt, and I didn't want to be the only one. It was easier than facing what I actually wanted, what I almost never had. That was selfish. I can't make excuses for it. I can only tell you why it happened and hope it's not too much."
"Too much?" she asked.
"I want to be with you, Natalie. I came here before going home because I need to know whether I'm too late."
"You know what I did today?" she asked, lacing our fingers together. I frowned at the sudden subject change but asked her what. "My best friend, the hairstylist I told you about, did this for me," she said, running her other hand through her hair. I thought it looked different. "She said that she wanted to do it to cheer me up, but I think this was part of some plan she had to try set me up."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No," she said, "I had had this wild fantasy that you and I could be a couple, but I don't know."
"I've heard wilder," I said. "I want to be with you, Nat."
"It's not too soon? I don't want to take advantage of you." Too soon? If I said no to her because of that, when the hell would I be ready? It didn't feel like too soon. It was sweet that she wanted to take care of me, but if she really wanted to be there for me, she'd say yes.
"I don't want to wait," I said, kissing the back of her hand.
"Are you sure?" she asked. I cupped her face and kissed her. No more questions. I was done asking why and what and where. I knew now. The answer was here with her, for us.
She climbed up onto my lap, straddling me. A tiny moan escaped her lips as I kissed her neck and ran my fingers through her silky, soft hair. I ran my hands up her legs, cupping her ass, and trailing them under her clothes. I had missed every silky, smooth part of her. I had missed the way she sounded when I touched her just right, the way her lips felt on mine…and other places.
“You didn’t have plans tonight, did you?”
“No, why?” I asked her.
"Come with me," she said, pulling away and getting up. She took my hand, and I let her lead me up the stairs. I didn't get a good look at the master bedroom because frankly, there were a couple things I was more interested in at the moment than a house tour. The only place that mattered right then and would matter for at least the next few hours was her bed.