Where the Heart Is (Hearts Series Book 1) Page 5

  I need to find out what the hell is going on, and I know just the two ladies who have the answers. Pushing off the door, I go search for them. And find them right where I thought they’d be—the drawing room.

  They don’t hear me as I walk through the doorway. They’re huddled together as Ana wipes away a stray tear. My Nan squeezes her hand while fingering her necklace.

  “But didn’t you say she was getting better?” Nan asks.

  I take another step into the room, my ears perking up.

  “She is...I mean, she was.”

  Nan turns to Ana. “Well, what did the doctor say?”

  My heart jumps into my mouth. “What the hell…please tell me she isn’t sick?” I blurt out. God, don’t let her be sick.

  Ana stands, her hand covering her chest. “Goodness, no, she isn’t sick. Calm yourself down and watch your mouth.” She waves me over, then sits back down and pats the empty seat beside her.

  The last thing I want to do right now is sit—I’m too wired. I shake my head.

  “What is it, then? Because quite frankly it scared the shit out of me,” I say.

  Ana avoids eye contact with me, smoothing out her skirt. I think I hear a tsk sound escape her lips, but I can’t be sure.

  “Language. You need to learn to harness that tongue of yours,” Nan says. I curse internally. Is she kidding me right now? Something’s clearly going on, and I’m being reprimanded over my choice of fucking words?

  I watch Ana and Nan look to one another, an unspoken conversation—one I’m not privy to.

  “Care to explain to us what happened?” asks Ana.

  Wow! Well deflected. They won’t tell me what’s going on with Flick, but they expect me to tell them what triggered her panic attack? I look away in an attempt to avoid the question, but the weight of their stares burns into my skin like a hot poker prodding me. Sure enough, they have zoned in on me like a pair of hawks. It’s like they’re a tag team. Talk about making me feel like I’m seven years old.

  I clear my throat.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Don’t look at me like that…all right fine. We may have broached the subject of her relationship with Simon,” I say, and throw my hands up in surrender.

  “Nathaniel. You haven’t seen her for how long? And then you decide to interrogate the poor girl? I take it from your lack of words, you’re giving us the edited version. You really should think before you speak,” my Nan says.

  “Back up, so let me get this straight. Flick tells me she and Simon aren’t really together, then by me asking her what that entails, is what?” I ask, dumbfounded. I don’t understand women.

  “Well, it sounds to me like that’s kind of private, and a moot point…is it your place to ask?” my Nan replies, raising her eyebrows.

  I grab the back of my neck, squeezing it hard to release the pent-up tension. Maybe I did come off a bit of an arsehole, implying they were basically fuck buddies. Hypocritical of me considering that’s what Rachel and I are—were.

  Fuck. Maybe I’m jealous.

  “So, are either of you going to tell me? Or do I need to find out by myself?”

  My Nan is tight-lipped as Evie speaks up. “There isn’t anything to tell, and even if there was, don’t you think it would be for her to say?” she says.

  I look up.

  What a load of bullshit!

  This shit right here confuses me even more. I could do with my Gramps on my side. Since losing my parents, it had always been Nan and us against the world. I miss him so much, my chest constricts. Accepting he’s gone is still hard for me to comprehend. I swallow down the lump in my throat.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry,” I say, as I kiss my Nan, and make to leave the room.

  “Nathaniel, hold on one second dear,” Ana calls out.

  I wait as she approaches me and takes my hand.

  “I understand how what happened may have been a shock, but please try to keep the drama down to a minimum. For your Grandmothers sake,” she says as she stands on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “And as you can tell, the less stress for Felicity, the better.”

  I’m tempted to run my mouth, but then think better of it. She’s right, my attitude isn’t helping anyone.

  But one way or the other, I will find out.

  Chapter Six

  I rap my knuckle on her door but hear no answer, so I enter her room. I can tell from the sound of her breathing that she’s asleep. Granted me being in here is kind of stalker-ish—even by my standards—but something is really wrong with her.

  I take a seat in the overstuffed armchair. Might as well be a comfortable stalker. I’ve made a point to avoid this room. Every time I passed it after she first left, the sweet apple scent of her perfume would creep up on me and overwhelm me with all those times I was close enough to her to practically taste it.

  Her eyes are squeezed tightly, crinkling around the edges—worry lines. It reminds me of when she was thirteen.

  That’s when I knew my feelings for her had changed.

  PAST - 2000

  “I don’t know if I want to kiss Leroy,” she says, swinging her legs back and forth over the balcony of the tree house.

  “So, don’t,” I say, hoping like hell she won’t.

  She turns her head, squinting her eyes from the sun.

  “But I have to kiss someone, sometime, don’t I?” she says, as she bites her lip. She looks away, head bowed.

  “Technically, no, you don’t. Besides, you’ve already had your first kiss, with me…” I say before I have a chance to stop myself.

  What the heck? Where did that just come from? I look away. The truth is, I’ve wanted to kiss her for a while now—she’s all I can think about—but that’s all kinds of wrong. First, she’s practically family, and second, I’m older—more experienced. And she’s so unashamedly Flick.

  I nudge her, and she looks over at me.

  “Nate, I was ten. It doesn’t count. Besides, I want it over with. All my friends have kissed—even Sophie. What’s wrong with me?”

  “God. Flick, there’s nothing wrong with you. When the time’s right, you’ll know. You sure as hell won’t be up here with me talking about doing it, you’ll be doing it.”

  “Is that what it was like for you?” she asks, picking at the skin around her fingernail.

  I tap her hand for her to stop—if I can’t bite mine, she can’t pick hers.

  “What do you mean?” I ask her.

  A blush creeps up her throat, and over her face. I feel something deep in my gut, she has my insides in knots—and yet she’s completely unaware.

  “Your first kiss,” she says.

  I’m not sure what she’s more embarrassed about—asking about my first kiss or talking about kissing.

  She rubs at her eyes.

  “You’re not old enough to know about the kind of kissing I get up to,” I say with a smile.

  She glares at me, her face almost comical.

  “I’m not a bloody kid, Nate.”

  I swallow my discomfort. No, she’s not. Every time I’ve seen her lately, she’s different, and that’s why I want to be there to look out for her. If I lived closer, I could keep little shits like this Leroy kid away.

  “I know you’re not. I just don’t want some idiot kid taking advantage of you,” I say, unable to stop myself.

  “He isn’t a kid, Nate. He’s older than me.”

  “What? You have got to be kidding me!” I clench my fists.

  “No, he’s fifteen.”

  I shake my head. Nope—no way—not happening. The thought causes my stomach to dip, and it leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I swallow hard.

  “In that case, no. You most definitely should not be kissing him,” I say.

  “You’re being stupid. It’s just kissing.” She waves her hands about.

  Is she trying to piss me off?

  “I should think that’s all it would be, too,” I say, trying to stay calm.

  Thirteen going on fourt
een my arse. She might as well be sixteen the way she acts. I should know. I’m seeing someone that age, and we get up to plenty. My stomach plummets at the thought of her doing any of those things with Leroy—or anyone else, for that matter.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t be talking to you about it…if you’re going to be an idiot. But you’re my best friend,” she says, shrugging.

  “That is why you should listen to me…”

  She rolls her eyes and puffs out air through her nostrils.

  I clear my throat as I continue. “You deserve special, Flick…not some sloppy kiss at Saturday morning pictures, or over a park somewhere.”

  She raises her eyebrows. Shit, am I giving her ideas—scrap that.

  “Special?” she replies, smiling.

  I nod.

  “Yes, you geek. Special,” I say, and elbow her.

  “I think that only happens in Disney and shit,” she says, sighing.

  I let out a chuckle. “Such a cynic for someone so young.” I put my arm over her shoulder and pull her into me, kissing the top of her head.

  She jabs me with her elbow, and I release her.

  “Fine. How about you kiss me?” I say, almost choking on my own Adam's apple. I can’t believe I just said that.

  “What?” she whispers as she leans back to look at me. Her face contorts in what looks like confusion. “You’d kiss me?”

  The way she says that agitates me. But it’s what she didn’t say—I can see the wheels turning—she thinks it’s a pity offer.

  “Yes… I mean, better than you kissing that Leroy kid.” I look away, licking my dry lips.

  “He’s the same age as you, Nate. Not a kid.” She attempts to punch me, but I swat her away like a gnat.

  “Whatever you say.” I don’t care what she says, he’s a prick, and he doesn’t have her best interests at heart, I’m sure of it.

  “I don’t want things to be weird between us,” she admits, swinging her legs.

  “It won’t be. Geez, it was only a suggestion.” I pull at the collar of my t-shirt, and push myself up on the palms of my hands—ready to get up—but she pulls me back down.

  “You promise you won’t think differently of me?” She nibbles at her bottom lip.

  “Why would I think differently of you?”

  God, if only she knew about the dreams I’ve been having about her. I’m pretty sure she’d be out of this treehouse, and down that ladder faster than Linford bloody Christie.

  “Because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  I want to laugh—is she for real right now?

  “You’re overthinking this. It’s just a kiss.”

  She nods, wringing her hands together.

  I feel like a prick for suggesting it, now. I want her to want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss her, but it’s an ulterior motive—I just don’t want her kissing someone that isn’t me.

  The air is thick between us—filled with uneasiness. It’s foreign and unwelcome.

  I hate that I’m the one who put it there. I begin to tickle her, and like I knew she would, she lets out a snort, and wriggles around like an oversized worm, trying her hardest to tickle me back.

  I hold up my hands in surrender. Her face flushes, and she laughs as she leans her head against my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head. She turns, smiling up at me.

  My chest feels like it’s shrinking. I bring my hand up, cup her cheek, and shift slightly. I watch as she sweeps her tongue over her bottom lip.

  I lean down. Her eyes dart to my lips, and then—as I close the distance between us—her eyelids flutter shut.

  My lips descend upon hers until they’re met with a soft gasp that passes her lips the moment before they connect with mine. Neither of us moves—I don’t think I even breathe— until I pull back slightly. Her eyes are still closed, her fingers gripping my t-shirt.

  My lips gravitate back towards hers. When I lightly stroke her lip with my tongue, she lets out a small breath of air. Slowly, our tongues collide, and we explore each other. I feel it everywhere.

  Reluctant and breathless, I pull back. Her breathing is heavy. I kiss the tip of her nose, then her forehead, before her eyes flutter open.

  “Wow,” she exhales.

  Her cheeks are rose coloured, and her green eyes sparkle—lighting up like evergreen. I pull her into my chest to stop myself from kissing her again.

  Wow doesn’t even begin to cover it.

  “Nate?” she whispers

  “Hmmm?” I don’t want my voice to betray my over-driven hormones.

  “Was that okay? Did…did I do it right?”

  I’m not used to hearing her sound so unsure of herself. I pull back to look at her—big mistake, I want to kiss her again.

  “Yes, you did. It was great.”

  I look away. I want to tell her it was perfect, that if I died tomorrow, that kiss would be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  “You’re just saying that.”

  I laugh, but it’s humourless.

  “No, I’m not…” I’ve opened Pandora’s box now. “I need to ask you something?” I cough, trying to hide my unease.

  “Okay…” she responds. Her eyes have a buoyant light about them, as if they are smiling.

  “Promise me you won’t kiss Leroy?” I look her straight in the eye. I know I’m being a selfish bastard.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t feel like kissing him now, anyway,” she says, matter of fact.

  I squeeze her a little tighter.

  Good. I don’t feel like kissing anyone else either.

  I wake with a start and sit bolt upright, clutching my chest. From the corner of my eye, I see a silhouette. Someone’s sitting in the armchair. My heart rate picks up speed, but my eyes don’t shy from the figure as I draw in a deep breath.

  “It’s just me,” Nate says.

  I drop back onto the bed, my head thumping against the plush pillow.

  “Shit, Nate, you nearly gave me a flipping heart attack.”

  I forgot where I was for a moment. I wipe my hand over my face—my skin feels clammy. Nice.

  “Sorry. I needed to make sure you were okay after what happened earlier.” He sits forward, his hands hanging between his knees.

  “I’m fine, but Nate, watching me sleep is creepy.” I raise my eyebrows.

  He only shrugs his shoulders while looking down at his watch.

  “How long was I asleep?” I swing my legs off the bed.

  “A couple of hours. I was about to wake you.” He looks at his feet.

  “I’m awake, so all good.” I pick up the glass beside me and take a sip, trying to ignore the shake of my hand. I get the impression he’s leading up to something—I just don’t know what.

  “Flick, I wanted to ask you about earlier…” he says, watching me as I set the glass down.

  “What about it?” My stomach plummets.

  “Why did no one tell me about what was going on with you?” He tilts his head to the side, waiting on my reply.

  I stand, twisting my head from side to side, trying to release the kink in my neck.

  “I asked them not to, and believe it or not, it’s not something I make a habit of telling people.”

  I make my way over to the window, pulling my fingers through the knots in my hair but give up.

  “I’d like to think I’m not just people. God, Flick, I’ve known you my whole life,” he says, his voice pleading as he approaches me.

  I pull open the curtains. The sun hangs low on the horizon in rich waves of ambers and oranges. It’s so beautiful, and I itch for my camera—this would make such a gorgeous shot. I take a deep breath, relishing in the fresh air blowing through the open window. This always was the perfect reading spot.

  How many times have I sat in this very spot contemplating life? What I wanted to be when I grew up, who I was going to marry? What shoes to wear? Skittles or peanut M&M’s? It’s all so insignificant now.

  “I never said that, Nate. But people change
.”

  I breathe in deep and release it through my nose. A small whistling sound escapes, and I squeeze my eyes shut—I should just be grateful I haven’t farted in front of him yet. Nate plonks down beside me, his knee brushing against mine. I concentrate on the view out of the window.

  “Yeah, but we were best friends once.” He says it so low I almost don’t hear him.

  “Yes, Nate, and I also used to want to be a beekeeper. Like I said, people change. I don’t know…maybe we need to get to know each other again.” I wrap my arms around my middle.

  “That’s obvious, seeing as I’m the only one who appears to be in the dark where you’re concerned.” He squeezes my knee, and I turn to catch him looking me straight in the eye.

  It’s a challenge—one that says, it’s because of what I did to you, you don’t trust me. Yes, Nate, you hurt me—you slept with another girl—but we weren’t even together. It was a lifetime ago, inconsequential now.

  This is going to hang over us like a brewing thunderstorm if I don’t give him something. Like it’s not going to be difficult enough getting through the next couple of days.

  “Fine. I’ll try to explain.” I pull my legs underneath me.

  He shakes his head, but I put my hand up before he can try to talk me out of it—typical Nate behaviour.

  “It was around the time of my eighteenth birthday. My confidence took a serious knock. I became withdrawn, depressed. I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. I was pretty low for a while. But as you can see, I kind of worked through it. I took up photography—it’s like a coping mechanism. Don’t get me wrong, I have support, but this is something I can do on my own. I know that probably sounds weird…”

  I leave out the details of how some days I wish I wasn’t here, or how every time I closed my eyes in the weeks following it, all I’d see is that bloody room, and the smell felt like it would never leave me.

  Nate pulls gently on my arm, until I release my waist, and takes my hand in his.

  “Flick, you should’ve called me. Damn it, if I’d known, I would have got my shit together.”

  I shake my head, even if he had, I wouldn’t have wanted him to. Not at first…not even now.