“Thanks,” I tell her with a smirk, then I say, “You know all this secrecy is making me extremely curious.”
“Well, you’re going to have to stay that way. A lady never tells.” We grin at each other. “There’s a bag of Doritos in the cupboard. Should we play again?”
“Yes. I have a reputation to repair.”
It’s at that moment when the power goes out, leaving us in complete darkness.
“Whoa, it is pitch black here,” Nora says. “I literally can’t see my hand.”
“There must be some candles around here somewhere,” I tell her, getting up and groping my way to the living room. She does the same, and the two of us spend the next few minutes bumping into various pieces of furniture while we search.
Nora finally finds a box of candles and a lighter in the hall closet, likely stored there for just such an emergency. We set them around the kitchen and on the table, then get back to our game while the storm continues.
There’s a cozy warmth to sitting together, dry and safe while the wind howls outside and rain batters the roof and windows. The evening wears on, and I realize I don’t want it to end. I want to stay here with her for a very long time, making her laugh and asking about her life. I want to know everything about her—what she eats for breakfast, what keeps her up at night, what she loves, what she hates, what she wants out of life. I want to pull her onto my lap and feel her body against mine and taste her. I want to know what her skin feels like and discover the sounds she makes when something I do satisfies her.
Then I remember who she is and who I am and who we are to each other. I must set all those thoughts aside, because they’re only going to confuse things. The last thing I need is more confusion.
“It must be late,” she says, yawning.
“We should get some sleep.” I feel an acute pang of disappointment that this time together must come to an end, but suddenly it occurs to me how exhausted I am. I haven’t had more than three hours of sleep a night for weeks. “I’ll take the couch.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
We clean up the table, and I put the cards away. When we’re finished, we are standing in front of each other next to the sink. I watch, mesmerized, as she licks her lips. She’s beautiful like this. In the candlelit room, her hair down, no makeup. All the things I want come flooding back into my brain and course through my veins.
“Nora, why do you hate rich people so much?” I ask before I can rethink the question. “I mean, I know we’re generally not the most lovable demographic, but with you, it feels personal.”
She looks taken aback. “I don’t hate rich people.”
“I think you do,” I say gently. “I’m not going to try to change your opinion. I only want to understand.”
“I… well, I’ve worked in the service industry my entire life. I started as a hostess at a restaurant in town when I was fourteen. Most people you come across are nice, but there’s a certain class of people who don’t seem to realize that servers have feelings. They’re demanding and rude, and they need you to know how rich they are. They don’t see you as a human being with feelings and dreams and ambitions, just a means to an end. After enough years of it, I put up a wall, you know?”
Nodding, I say, “I know people like that, and you’re right to feel the way you do about them. I know I would.”
“I am sorry I painted you with the same brush. You’re not like that.”
“I can come off that way sometimes, when I’m so focused on what I’m doing that I don’t bother to see what’s going on around me.”
“Maybe a little.”
“I’m sorry, Nora.” I want so badly to pull her into my arms. “This will sound strange, but even though I’ve only known you for a short time, it’s going to make me a better man.”
“Really?” she asks, her voice almost a whisper.
“Really. You’ve changed me. This day and this night have changed me, and I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful for you.”
She swallows hard, and I can tell by the look on her face that if I kissed her right now, she would kiss me back with everything in her. And one thing would most certainly lead to another. And it would be incredible. And I cannot allow that to happen.
So instead of lowering my face and brushing my lips ever so softly against hers, I say, “We should get some sleep.”
Disappointment fills her eyes, but she nods and smiles. “Definitely. I’m wiped.”
She turns towards the bedroom, then calls over her shoulder, “Good night, Theo.”
“Good night.”
