True L̶o̶v̶e̶ Story Page 9

  “Well, I thought you were around 22 or 23 when we went out that day in San Francisco.” He puts his head in his hand and peers up at me slowly. “You’re tall, I think that makes you look so much older. I had no idea you were 18…” He gulps.

  “I have had a birthday since then…” I smile.

  “Oh thank God,” he says. He looks a little green. He still hasn’t taken my hand. “Sparrow, I’m going to be 29 this year … well, next year.”

  “Nooooooo.” I can’t help it. I am shocked.

  He sighs. “Yes. Not for another 9 months or so, but still.” He looks down and I study the way his eyelashes curve up at the ends. Way better than any eyelash curler could ever do.

  “So you’re 28.” I state the obvious.

  He nods.

  “And I’m 19.”

  He nods again.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow.”

  “Well…” I start tugging my hair now. “Wow.” I guess you could say I’m struck speechless. “Well, okay,” I finally say.

  “Is it weird for you?” he asks.

  “Um, yeah, a little bit. And I already know it weirds you out. But … you really don’t act like you’re 28! And you certainly don’t look it.”

  He grins. “Thanks?” He clears his throat. “I just had to get it out … Laila brought it to my attention in San Francisco and made me feel like a creeper. I’m old. And I would normally never in a million years go out with anyone who wasn’t at least in their mid-twenties. I just haven’t done very well at staying away from you. I’ve tried. I really have tried.”

  I laugh at his earnest expression. “Well, it’s not like you’re ancient or anything. Although, you’re getting there.” I give him a sly grin. “But, it doesn’t have to matter. I would have never known your age and you would have never known mine if it hadn’t been for someone else. The way we are around each other—it doesn’t seem like we struggle with relating to one another.”

  “No…”

  Surprisingly, this revelation doesn’t keep us from moving on and chatting about a million other things throughout the night. I barely even think about the age thing once we’ve changed the subject. When we’re done eating, we go to the piano bar across the street. It’s so dark in there, I wonder what they would do if they knew Ian Sterling was in the place.

  All too soon, it’s late and we’re back on the gondola, riding back to the Lodge. Ian has one arm around me and the other is playing with my hand, touching each finger and giving me chills with each stroke. I shiver and he holds me tighter.

  “Cold?” he asks.

  “A little bit,” I whisper.

  He wraps me up in his coat and lifts my chin up with one hand. “You have the best lips, I can’t keep my eyes off them,” he whispers. His finger traces my mouth again and this time, I know he’s going to kiss me. My eyelids feel heavy. So soft that I almost think I’m imagining it, his lips are on mine. Then, there is no doubt. He kisses me, sweetly at first, and then when our tongues touch, greedily, like he can’t stand another moment until he has thoroughly laid claim on every part of my mouth. His hands are on my face and mine are finally tugging his hair, exactly where my hands have wanted to be since the day I first saw him. I pull him in deeper and deeper; I can’t get enough.

  All kisses before this have been mere child’s play. I drink him in and know my fate is sealed: I am his.

  - 8 -

  Even after we get off the lift, he has his arm wound around me, holding me tight against his side. He leans his head down and keeps kissing my hair, my forehead, my cheek. I smile up at him and his eyes are shining brighter than they have yet. He takes my breath away.

  We end up in front of my door. He leans down, runs his tongue lightly over my bottom lip and groans. “I don’t want to let you go,” he whispers.

  I can’t even speak. My heart feels like an old-fashioned alarm clock with the bells ringing so hard that it falls right off the table.

  He presses me against the door, coming in for more, when we hear a loud click. The door opens and we nearly fall inside. Charlie is standing there, and she has the decency to not act too shocked at our disheveled state.

  “I thought I heard knocking,” she says. When we just stare at her, she closes the door.

  Awkward.

  Ian and I look at each other and if I didn’t feel so good, I’d want to crawl in a hole right about now.

  “Thank you for a wonderful night,” Ian says, kissing my hand. He leans in and whispers, “You taste even better than I imagined.”

  I know I’m so flushed, I’m purple, but I can’t help it. This is too much sensory overload for one night.

  “Little Bird? You okay?”

  I nod and he smiles.

  “Goodnight. Are we still good for breakfast in the morning before your flight?”

  I nod again.

  Ian gives a loud knock on the door and when my mom opens the door this time, he tells my parents goodnight and gives me one last wink before he goes out the door.

  My mother glances at my lips and I know that she knows.

  I start laughing and can’t stop. “How can you tell?” I manage to spit out.

  “Well, your eyes were both lit up like Christmas when you fell inside the door,” she huffs.

  “We went to a great restaurant and had the best time.” I sigh.

  My dad hasn’t said a word. I eye him warily and he gives me a weak grin.

  “Just be careful with that boy, Sparrow,” my mom warns. “He’s far more experienced than you … and he’s used to getting whatever girl he wants.”

  “I know … and he’s not a boy. I found out how old he is, Mama … 28! Can you believe that?”

  “Noooooo.” Her slightly put-out face is now replaced with a worried crease in the middle of her eyebrows.

  Uh-oh. Not good.

  “I know, that’s what I said too,” I say softly.

  My dad speaks up then. “Jeff told me how old he was that day in San Francisco…” He goes back to reading his book.

  My mom and I look at each other and then pounce on my dad. “What do you mean? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I’ve never thought age mattered much. I married me an older woman myself,” he grins. It’s true. Charlie is five years older than my dad.

  “Hmm,” I say. “I guess not. Still seems like something you would BRING UP.” He laughs at my emphasis. “It hasn’t really mattered at all before now, since I had no clue. I guess if it doesn’t bother him, either—”

  Charlie shakes her head. “Just be careful, Sparrow.”

  “Yeah, Mama, I know … I need to…”

  When I walk into the restaurant the next morning, I immediately see Ian. He is sitting in front of massive windows with the white mountains behind him. He could be on a movie set, only he’s better looking than any actor I’ve seen.

  His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes this morning, and my heart drops in my stomach. I think maybe I’ve imagined it. Maybe he’s just tired.

  “Mornin’,” I say softly.

  “Mornin’, Sparrow.” He rubs his face with both hands, and I have the thought that if we were actually together, he’d look like he was going to break up with me.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah…” He smiles, but I’m not buying it.

  I pick up the menu and try to figure out what I could possibly eat when my stomach hasn’t quite returned to its proper place yet. The waiter walks up and asks if we’d like coffee. We both gratefully say yes.

  He doesn’t say anything for a while, and I just look out the window and try to rein my thoughts in—what did I miss here?

  Finally, he says: “So … do you have a full semester coming up?”

  Small talk, really?

  “Yes, pretty full.”

  He nods.

  This is painful.

  “What about you—do you have a busy winter touring?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be all over the p
lace for the next few months.”

  We place our order with the waiter, and I sit awkwardly while we wait for the food. I can’t believe how this feels. Why does it end like this every time I’m with him? I wish I had the nerve to ask him, but I’m afraid if I do, I’ll end up crying. I’m not used to my emotions being such a mess. I don’t like this up and down business.

  I can only manage a few bites of bagel before I give up. He slowly eats his omelet and doesn’t finish it either.

  He takes a long drink of coffee and then a swig of water. “Sparrow—”

  I look up from my plate and wait.

  “I’ve really enjoyed being with you this week. Watching you ski and just being near you, getting to know you … it’s … been one of the best weeks I can even remember.” He looks shy as he’s saying this. “You are … the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…”

  My mouth must drop open because he says, “You are!” And then he reaches over and lifts my chin up gently with his hand.

  “You’re kind and smart and … kissing you—” he shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I’ll be thinking about that for a long time to come.” He opens his eyes and puts his chin in his propped up hand. He stares me down until I’m uncomfortable. Just when I think he’s waiting for me to respond, he says, “You know I’m trouble. Right?”

  And then before I can say anything, he runs his fingers through his hair, making it go every which way. His eyes look green with the bright sunlight behind him. They look haunted.

  He reaches over and grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. “You’re going to break my heart, Sparrow Fisher.”

  And I think, Not before you break mine.

  He says some other things about all the other hearts I will break along the way and really, I tune him out because I don’t even know what to think. I was expecting a little romantic extension of last night. I don’t know why I wasn’t thinking about what next week would look like or the next month or the next, because I was too busy assuming he’d be in the picture.

  When it’s time to go, we stand up and he gives me a long, sweet hug. His kiss is soft and brief.

  I have to get out of here and fast.

  “Well … if I don’t see you again, I guess I’ll see you in heaven … if you make it.” I do my best to grin lightheartedly and he does too. I walk away before I lose it, but I make the mistake of turning back one more time before I round the corner.

  Ian Sterling has his head in his hands and the whole world on his shoulders.

  Guess who is on my return flight?

  Jared.

  I want to hide when I see him—not because I don’t like him, I do. He seems so different than his sister, and even nicer than Jake. But I’m exhausted and have been holding off on having a good cry all morning. I’m afraid if someone shows me the least amount of rudeness OR kindness, I’m going to start leaking big, fat, sloppy tears. I am so out of my element.

  He flashes his sweet smile at me and lifts his hand in a wave. “Sparrow! I’m glad to see you! I was wishing for a chance to say goodbye. This is even better.”

  His brown eyes are so sincere; I’m immediately at ease. “Hi, Jared. Yeah, it’s good to see you. You ready to get back to school?”

  He laughs. “Well, I don’t know about that … I’d rather ski another week.”

  “Me too.”

  “From what I could tell, you sure picked it up quickly.”

  “I’m still in shock over that, let me tell you. Athletic is NOT my middle name.”

  “Well, you could have fooled me.” He grins. “Hey, where are you sitting?”

  I pull out my ticket and find the row. He’s peering over my shoulder. “12 D,” he says. “Would you want to see if we can change our seats? Sit together?”

  I’d rather sleep the sleep of the dead, but nod instead. “Sure.”

  He goes up to the ticket agent and wouldn’t you know it, they manage to find two empty seats together.

  When we have been flying for approximately twenty-eight minutes, Jared gets right to it. “So what’s the story on you and Sterling?” He doesn’t even look at me when he says it, but busies himself with the tray table in front of him. He puts it down. Pushes it up. Puts it back down.

  “Story?”

  “Yeah. It seemed like you two had some history already?” He says it as a question and I look at him, waiting for him to say more before I try to decide what to say back. “Are you guys, you know … going out?”

  I’ve always thought “going out” was such a weird way of saying you’re in a relationship. There really is no great way to say it. Is he your boyfriend? sounds so retro. Going out makes me think of getting some fresh air. Dating just feels … dated.

  “Well, the times I’ve been around him … I do like him a lot.” I turn to him as I say it. I’m trying to be as honest as I can, given that I really have no clue what Ian Sterling is to me, or better yet, what I am to him. But I do know that much: I like him a lot.

  It’s enough. Jared gets it. He nods his head and looks … disappointed. I don’t know if it’s disappointment in me or about me. I know I really don’t want to think of anyone else’s feelings just now. Mine are all I can barely handle.

  “Just be careful, Sparrow,” Jared says, still looking straight ahead.

  I nod my head and feel my stomach sink about Ian, while also feeling relief that maybe Jared and I can really just be friends.

  I lean my head back on the seat and change the subject. “Was it hard saying goodbye to your family this morning? Or are you used to it?”

  “I can only take them in small doses, so it was just right.”

  I smile at him. It’s hard to imagine that he’s Jade’s brother. They’re so completely different. Everything about Jade screams spoiled, rich, obnoxious snob. Jared seems like a kind teddy bear hidden under toned arms.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll miss my family. It was great to see them … but yeah, I’m glad to be getting back. I’ve been a little distracted. I’m ready to get focused now. I hope, anyway…” I trail off.

  “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “Yeah, New Year’s Eve?”

  “Oh, I hadn’t even thought about it! I don’t know—I need to see what Tessa has planned.”

  “Well, you should both come to the party Asher Caldwell is giving—come with me.”

  “Asher Caldwell—that sounds so familiar.”

  “Music producer? He’s a family friend. Nice guy. His career has taken off in the last three years.”

  “Really?” I can’t help but chuckle. “How many famous people do you know?”

  He laughs and shrugs. “A few, I guess.”

  I’m so relaxed that the next thing I know, my head is bouncing off Jared’s shoulder as we’re skidding across the runway, landing with speed. I smile apologetically at him and his eyes crinkle up.

  “Feel better?”

  “Yes, thanks for providing the shoulder. I didn’t realize I was quite so tired.”

  “Not a problem.”

  At baggage claim, we exchange phone numbers. He promises to call about the party, and I promise to think seriously about going. At the moment, though, all I feel like doing is visiting my bed. My vacation is finally catching up with me.

  It is SO good to see Tessa. She wakes me right up, wanting to hear all about my trip. As soon as we get in the door, she’s making hot chocolate and then pulling me over to the couch, asking question after question.

  I’m not quite as forthcoming as she’d like, and finally, she scowls at me and says, “What’s the deal? Was it great or not? What happened with Ian?”

  And I cannot ignore the lump that’s been in my throat all day long … well, since breakfast with Ian. I’m on the verge of tears and start blubbering.

  “It was perfect. Every day was perfect and then last night … we went out and it was so wonderful and we kissed. And oh my word, he’s the b
est. WAY better than Bobby, who you know I always thought was the very best kisser. Always. And then this morning, he’d asked me to breakfast, but when I got there, he was so distant and said I’d break his heart, but also said he was trouble so it was so confusing and it was like we were starting all over or like we were strangers and…” I run out of breath and sit there, wishing I had a paper bag. Instead of breathing in it, I’d cover my head and go ahead and put myself out of my misery.

  Tessa’s brow is creased into a deep V. She does NOT look happy.

  “Wait. Start over. What?”

  It doesn’t go much better than my first attempt, but by two in the morning, I have sufficiently explained every word, every look, every touch, and every assumption I made about what he was thinking and what I thought about every single thing. You know, we do the girl thing and DISCUSS.

  Turns out, Tessa doesn’t have a big plan for New Year’s Eve. She wanted to keep her options open. So, when I told her about Jared’s invite to Asher Caldwell’s party, she was all about it. In the morning, Jared calls and asks if we’ll please come. I say yes.

  As we’re getting ready that night, Tessa is far more excited than I am. I’ve just had the best week of my life and the letdown is thick. When I think about Ian and how things were left between us, I have to fight hard not to fall into a sinking pit of … all that is disgusting. Mostly, I just feel really stupid for letting myself get so caught up in the romance of the trip. I don’t exactly feel played because he certainly didn’t take advantage of me, but it’s almost worse because he acted like he really had strong feelings for me. Like he meant every word and every touch.

  I’m so confused.

  I choose a short black dress and my hair is falling in loose waves down my back. I haven’t gotten a haircut since I came to New York and it’s grown like crazy. I slap on some makeup, but my heart isn’t into any of this. Tessa’s wearing a green dress that brings out the green in her eyes. Her hair is that perfect shade that every woman with blonde hair wants. She looks stunning.

  The party is already going strong when Tessa and I get there. It’s in Asher’s swanky penthouse. I’ve never seen anything like it. The only word I can think of is: opulence. Everywhere. Everything is so over the top, it’s almost gaudy. I have on some killer heels so I can see over most of the crowd and spot Jared right away. I grab Tessa’s arm and we make our way to him.