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I look at her, really look at her, seeing not just the woman I've been drawn to but a kindred spirit, someone who might not just share my struggles but also my hopes for something better. It’s a daunting prospect, opening up to the possibility of failure, but also a chance to finally step away from the solitude that has marked so much of my recent years.
"Maybe you’re right," I say slowly, the decision firming up within me as I speak. "I can't promise that I won't screw up, but I can promise that I will never hurt you the way that he did.”
There's a quiet rage that surges inside me as I think of the pain Natalie has suffered. The thought that another human could be dissatisfied with Natalie, to go and look for something more—it's incomprehensible to me. I'd beat that guy senseless if I ever saw him.
Natalie bites her lip, her eyes flitting back and forth between mine. Nervously, she tucks her hair behind her ear in that adorable, endearing way I've come to love; the motion that tells me her emotions are floating dangerously close to the surface.
“I believe you,” Nat finally whispers, and my heart flutters in a way I didn't think it was capable of anymore.
Outside, the storm continues to rage, but inside, something shifts between us—a mutual decision to face whatever comes, not alone, but together
CHAPTER 16
NATALIE
This is it. This is what we've been waiting for. The first tentative step toward something neither of us are sure of, but both desperately want.
A surge of determination wells up inside me. I stand, my movements fueled by a mix of nervous energy and a resolve that's been building since the moment our paths crossed again.
I lean across the desk, closing the space between us with unwavering purpose. The storm outside casts a wild dance of shadows across the office, mirroring the tumultuous emotions within me. My heart races as I reach for Julian’s hand, the contact electric, a tangible spark in the dark of the room.
"Julian," I start, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart, "I care about you. I don't want a fling. I want you.”
The vulnerability in admitting these words is almost painful, hanging between us like a delicate thread that could snap at any moment. Julian's eyes search mine, looking for the sincerity I feel pulsing through every word. For a moment, he just watches me, and I can almost hear his thoughts churning, weighing the risk against the pull of his own desires.
“I won’t be perfect either,” I continue when he doesn't offer an answer. “But I want to try. Together. If you do.”
In the next moment, Julian's expression shifts, hardening with resolve. "I do," he says simply, and with those words, the last barrier between us seems to dissolve.
Without another word, Julian leans forward, his movements decisive. He reaches across the desk, his hands finding mine with purpose. In one fluid motion, he pulls me around the desk to his chair, and my heart leaps into my throat as he guides me onto his lap, his movement bold but tender.
His arms encircle me, strong and sure, and I find myself wrapped up in the warmth of his embrace, the woodsy scent of him, the feel of him. The kiss he plants on my lips is deep, passionate, a seal over the promises we've just made. It's as if all the pent-up longing, all the tension and hesitation, are channeled into this one kiss, igniting a fire that had been simmering just below the surface all this time.
As I cling to Julian, the raw need in my movements softens under the gentle pressure of his lips. It’s so starkly different from this morning. His kiss is slow, tender—a marked contrast to the fierce, desperate kisses we've shared before.
Pulling back slightly, I search his face, looking for a sign, something that might explain the sudden shift in intensity. The look in his eyes is profound, a mix of longing and something akin to fear—a fear of not being enough, perhaps, or of failing despite his best intentions. His steel gaze holds mine, earnest and open, baring a vulnerability that he rarely shows.
"I'm not good at this," Julian confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't promise that things won't end in disaster; but I want to try, for you. I've never wanted so desperately to be good enough for someone."
His words resonate deeply, striking chords of both joy and trepidation within me. Here he is, laying bare his doubts and fears, yet still stepping forward into the unknown with me. It's more than I expected, more than I dared hope for after all the uncertainty.
"Julian," I begin, my voice thick with emotion, "we're stepping into this together, with all our fears and flaws. All we can do is try." My hand lifts to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath my fingers, grounding myself in this new, thrilling reality.
Encouraged by his honesty, I lean in and press my lips against his neck, kissing him with a careful, deliberate tenderness. My kisses trail downward, traveling the length of his neck, his collarbone, dipping beneath the collar of his t-shirt.
Julian exhales slowly at my kiss, his breath a warm release of the tension he's been carrying. His hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, his touch gentle, guiding me as if he treasures each contact, each moment we share.
I decide right then that I could spend hours simply kissing his skin, memorizing the feel of him under my lips, just to hear those little gasps.
His large hands slide from my waist to my back, slipping beneath the hem of my sweatshirt to roam upwards. I’m enveloped in his warmth, cherished and protected, and the feeling drives me back to his mouth. I open for him, letting his tongue dance with mine, letting him capture me completely.
Every kiss is savored, each caress cherished. The way Julian looks at me, with such profound tenderness and raw honesty, stirs something deep within me—a longing not just for passion, but for connection, for the assurance that we are indeed on the right path, however uncertain it may seem.
Feeling braver than ever, my hands find their way to the band that secures his hair at the nape of his neck, and I carefully remove it. His silky, dark locks fall free around his face, and for the first time, I'm able to pull my fingers through the full length of the strands.
I can feel Julian's lips stretch into a smile against mine before he speaks. “You really like my hair, huh?” he chuckles.
“Can you blame me?” I answer breathlessly. Then, to emphasize my point, I run my fingernails over his scalp, relishing his answering shiver.
