“God, how can you even say that?” She crosses her arms in front of her and rubs her shoulders, like she’s chilled. “I never say no. I always say yes. You’re the only person ever who makes me want to say no.”
“And why is that? Can you at least answer that honestly?”
She stops her rubbing and lets her arms fall to her side. And then she turns her back and walks over to the bar, grabbing her empty champagne glass along the way. She fills it up, takes a sip, then fills it up again and guzzles it down.
She places her hands over her face and drops her head for a moment, and I’m almost positive she’s trying very hard not to cry, but then she brings her hands back to her sides and turns to face me.
“Because, Vaughn, you scare the shit out of me. That’s why. You want honesty? Fine. You scare me. You were my dream guy, OK? You were everything I ever wanted. And you’re here and it’s not real.” She shakes her head, like the whole idea that we’re in this room together is incredible. “You’re here in front of me, offering me something I want more than anything else in this world. And I’m too scared to try because I know you’re not the dream guy I made you out to be. And I’m going to get hurt. And I’m going to get used. And I’m going to regret it if I let you in. Do you understand that? I’m going to regret it.”
“You’re setting yourself up to regret, Grace. How do you not see that?”
“You’ve been complaining about my fantasy since we met. You want me to be rooted in reality and not heap these expectations on you. So fine, that’s where I’m at. And that means this fight, Vaughn, all this fighting we do… that’s our reality. It’s unfortunate, but true.”
I sigh and walk over to the bar to pour myself another drink. I take a long sip, then guzzle it, just like she did a few moments ago. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Grace. We don’t have to make this our reality.”
“It’s a personality clash, Vaughn. It can’t be helped.”
I turn back to her, shaking my head. “It’s not a personality clash, Grace. It’s an issue of trust. You don’t trust me to be careful with your heart. I don’t trust you to be honest with me about your feelings. It’s got nothing to do with our personalities. Our chemistry is just fine. I really like you. I’m attracted to you in every dirty way imaginable. You say you’ve been fantasizing about me for years. You respond to my sexual requests and are willing to meet me halfway. You signed an NDA for me. So I know you’re interested. I know you like me. Why can’t you just admit it to yourself?”
She walks over to the couch and sits down. He head falls back against the cushions and she lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think it can work.”
“Why?”
“Because…” She closes her eyes and stays silent.
“Because why, Grace?” I take a seat next to her and pull her in my lap. She scoots down and places her head on my thighs and tucks her hands between her legs like a little girl going to sleep. I stroke her hair and wait her out, and with every brush of my fingertips past the smooth skin of her neck, I feel her relax a little more.
“Because I’m scared. It’s so much easier to want things than it is to have things. Because having things means you have to keep things.”
It’s my turn to sigh now. “That’s true. The more you have, the more you have to lose.”
“Exactly.”
“You have to take that risk, though, Grace. What good is living if you have no real joy?”
“I like to experience my joy from afar.”
“Don’t be stupid,” I chastise her. “That’s not living. I’m here, right now. You’re here. I want this. I want you. And all you have to do is say yes and we’re together.”
“We’re together how? I’m your whore you fly in to see in Denver whenever you feel like it? You never called me again after last time. Why would I trust you this time?” She makes to get up but I hold her steady.
“Grace, I have a very good reason for that and I’ll be happy to explain everything, but not tonight. It’s too much for tonight and we’ve been drinking. That is a sober conversation if ever there was one. Tonight, just let me take care of you. Let me make love to you.”
“If I let you do that”—my heart skips at the possibility that she will give in—“then what happens if you disappoint me again?” She opens her eyes and stares me in the face. “I can’t take it, Vaughn. That’s why I push people away. I’ve lost a lot in my life and I can’t go through that again.”
I know she lost her parents, but the revelations from Felicity make me question everything. There’s something very wrong with my Grace’s childhood. Something very, very wrong. We need to have that conversation soon, but not tonight. Tonight I just want to make her happy. “I won’t f**k it up, Grace. I swear.” She shakes her head just as the door chimes. “I swear, just settle down for one night. Enjoy yourself.” I lift her up off my lap and he sets herself back against the couch cushions.
“Just trust me now, please.” I get up and walk over to the door to let the servers in. A team of six bustles past me with carts piled with silver trays and they proceed to set the table with linens and silverware. Grace takes it all in. She says nothing, but her eyes dart all over the place, not missing a thing.
A few minutes later the team of servers leave and I close the door and turn back to her. She walks over to the table and stops in front of it and looks down at the large sheepskin rug. Then she slips her shoes off and steps forward, digging her toes into the plush pelt.
“There’s two place settings,” she says, her focus on her feet.
“One for me and one for you.”
She looks up. “Then why the rug?”
“It’s just an option.”
She sinks to her knees and then lies down on it. I walk over to her and sit in the chair. “Why are you on the floor, Grace?”
“Because I’m tired, Vaughn. I’m exhausted. And it feels good. I just want to lie here and do nothing.”
I kneel down next to her and turn her a little so I can unzip her dress. She doesn’t protest, so I lift up her arm and slip it through the sleeve. I repeat this for the other arm, and then I pull it down to expose her black bra. “Lift your hips for me, sweets.” She does and I pull the dress down her legs, then past her feet. I fold it nicely and place it over the back of a chair.
“And why is that? Can you at least answer that honestly?”
She stops her rubbing and lets her arms fall to her side. And then she turns her back and walks over to the bar, grabbing her empty champagne glass along the way. She fills it up, takes a sip, then fills it up again and guzzles it down.
She places her hands over her face and drops her head for a moment, and I’m almost positive she’s trying very hard not to cry, but then she brings her hands back to her sides and turns to face me.
“Because, Vaughn, you scare the shit out of me. That’s why. You want honesty? Fine. You scare me. You were my dream guy, OK? You were everything I ever wanted. And you’re here and it’s not real.” She shakes her head, like the whole idea that we’re in this room together is incredible. “You’re here in front of me, offering me something I want more than anything else in this world. And I’m too scared to try because I know you’re not the dream guy I made you out to be. And I’m going to get hurt. And I’m going to get used. And I’m going to regret it if I let you in. Do you understand that? I’m going to regret it.”
“You’re setting yourself up to regret, Grace. How do you not see that?”
“You’ve been complaining about my fantasy since we met. You want me to be rooted in reality and not heap these expectations on you. So fine, that’s where I’m at. And that means this fight, Vaughn, all this fighting we do… that’s our reality. It’s unfortunate, but true.”
I sigh and walk over to the bar to pour myself another drink. I take a long sip, then guzzle it, just like she did a few moments ago. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Grace. We don’t have to make this our reality.”
“It’s a personality clash, Vaughn. It can’t be helped.”
I turn back to her, shaking my head. “It’s not a personality clash, Grace. It’s an issue of trust. You don’t trust me to be careful with your heart. I don’t trust you to be honest with me about your feelings. It’s got nothing to do with our personalities. Our chemistry is just fine. I really like you. I’m attracted to you in every dirty way imaginable. You say you’ve been fantasizing about me for years. You respond to my sexual requests and are willing to meet me halfway. You signed an NDA for me. So I know you’re interested. I know you like me. Why can’t you just admit it to yourself?”
She walks over to the couch and sits down. He head falls back against the cushions and she lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think it can work.”
“Why?”
“Because…” She closes her eyes and stays silent.
“Because why, Grace?” I take a seat next to her and pull her in my lap. She scoots down and places her head on my thighs and tucks her hands between her legs like a little girl going to sleep. I stroke her hair and wait her out, and with every brush of my fingertips past the smooth skin of her neck, I feel her relax a little more.
“Because I’m scared. It’s so much easier to want things than it is to have things. Because having things means you have to keep things.”
It’s my turn to sigh now. “That’s true. The more you have, the more you have to lose.”
“Exactly.”
“You have to take that risk, though, Grace. What good is living if you have no real joy?”
“I like to experience my joy from afar.”
“Don’t be stupid,” I chastise her. “That’s not living. I’m here, right now. You’re here. I want this. I want you. And all you have to do is say yes and we’re together.”
“We’re together how? I’m your whore you fly in to see in Denver whenever you feel like it? You never called me again after last time. Why would I trust you this time?” She makes to get up but I hold her steady.
“Grace, I have a very good reason for that and I’ll be happy to explain everything, but not tonight. It’s too much for tonight and we’ve been drinking. That is a sober conversation if ever there was one. Tonight, just let me take care of you. Let me make love to you.”
“If I let you do that”—my heart skips at the possibility that she will give in—“then what happens if you disappoint me again?” She opens her eyes and stares me in the face. “I can’t take it, Vaughn. That’s why I push people away. I’ve lost a lot in my life and I can’t go through that again.”
I know she lost her parents, but the revelations from Felicity make me question everything. There’s something very wrong with my Grace’s childhood. Something very, very wrong. We need to have that conversation soon, but not tonight. Tonight I just want to make her happy. “I won’t f**k it up, Grace. I swear.” She shakes her head just as the door chimes. “I swear, just settle down for one night. Enjoy yourself.” I lift her up off my lap and he sets herself back against the couch cushions.
“Just trust me now, please.” I get up and walk over to the door to let the servers in. A team of six bustles past me with carts piled with silver trays and they proceed to set the table with linens and silverware. Grace takes it all in. She says nothing, but her eyes dart all over the place, not missing a thing.
A few minutes later the team of servers leave and I close the door and turn back to her. She walks over to the table and stops in front of it and looks down at the large sheepskin rug. Then she slips her shoes off and steps forward, digging her toes into the plush pelt.
“There’s two place settings,” she says, her focus on her feet.
“One for me and one for you.”
She looks up. “Then why the rug?”
“It’s just an option.”
She sinks to her knees and then lies down on it. I walk over to her and sit in the chair. “Why are you on the floor, Grace?”
“Because I’m tired, Vaughn. I’m exhausted. And it feels good. I just want to lie here and do nothing.”
I kneel down next to her and turn her a little so I can unzip her dress. She doesn’t protest, so I lift up her arm and slip it through the sleeve. I repeat this for the other arm, and then I pull it down to expose her black bra. “Lift your hips for me, sweets.” She does and I pull the dress down her legs, then past her feet. I fold it nicely and place it over the back of a chair.
