tagNon-EroticThat Mysterious Guy Ch. 02

That Mysterious Guy Ch. 02

byItalianLace©

As soon as TJ was asleep, I snuck out of bed. I found a piece of paper and wrote down Nate's number. Luckily, it had been too dark in TJ's room for him to notice it written on my arm. I went to the bathroom and scrubbed it off my skin, and stashed the number into the pocket of my jeans before throwing them back on the floor and climbing into bed.

The following evening after work, I remembered the number was there. I fished it out, and looked at it for a while. What if he didn't answer? What if it was the wrong number? Well, no use in being anxious. I dialed as quickly as possible so that I didn't think about it. He answered on the first ring. "Hello?" Had he been waiting for me to call?

"Um, hi, Nate? It's me, Melodie."

"Oh, hi sweetheart," he said. "What's the buzz?"

"Well," I said, my mouth dry. "You wanted me to call you. You tell me what's up."

"You wanna hang out?" he asked.

"Well...yeah, of course."

"Cool. Are you busy tonite?" I wasn't. "Great. You should come pick me up then. My car is dead." He gave me directions to his house. "See you in a little while, love."

I brushed my teeth and put on deodorant before practically skipping out to my car. Pulling out of the driveway, I paused to relish the butterflies in my stomach. Ahhh, that new crush feeling. I got lost on the way there, and then almost crashed trying not to miss my turn. But I made it. As I got out of my car, I wished I had changed before coming. I was still in the clothes I had worn to work: blue jeans and a cropped-sleeve blazer over a black tube top. I removed the blazer and tossed it in my trunk before going up to the door. Nate opened it right before I could knock.

"Hey, can I drive?" he asked. I didn't really like other people driving my car. I couldn't bring myself to say no to him, though.

"Sure, knock yourself out," I said.

We got in, and I immediately asked where we were going. He wouldn't tell me, and it frustrated me but excited me at the same time. I curled my legs underneath me, and turned in the seat to face him. I asked him about his day. He told me he'd been working on a new song. No lyrics yet. He was messing with the distortion on the drums, and wasn't sure yet if he liked it or not. He wanted me to listen to it later and tell him what I thought.

Ten minutes later, we pulled up at Denny's. I thought to myself, "How anticlimactic." But I was hungry anyway, so I got out of the car. Walking up, I tripped on the curb, and Nate caught me. I blushed, and tried to right myself, and ended up hitting my forehead on Nate's forehead. We both laughed. I was really embarrassed, but he didn't seem to mind.

Inside, we took a booth by the window. He got coffee. I got hot chocolate with whipped cream. I never did like coffee. We talked about skipping class back in high school, and concerts we'd been to, and TV shows we couldn't believe weren't on the air anymore. I found out, much to my surprise, that he was seven years older than me. Having just turned eighteen, I was getting used to the fact that I could date older guys. This could be good for me, though. I'd always been told that I was mature for my age.

Our food came, and Nate fed me a couple mozzarella sticks from his plate. My hands and mouth got messy from my chicken wings, and Nate took one of my hands and sucked the buffalo sauce from my fingers. I giggled girlishly.

We left the restaurant, and he climbed into the driver's seat again. It was late by now, a little after midnight. I didn't know where else he could want to go. I was surprised, and a little nervous when he turned off the main road onto a dusty back road. I became painfully aware of the fact that I'd only known this man for a little more than a day. When I realized that the place at which we had stopped was a cemetery, my heart started pounding in my chest. Nate calmly got out of the car, and I followed suit.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I like to come here at night sometimes. It's quiet, private. Trust me, you'll enjoy it." I decided to trust him. He took me by the hand and led me into the darkness of the cemetery. The ground was wet from rain we had had earlier in the day, and it squished under our feet. The air smelled damp and fresh. Funny, the things that stand out in your mind.

This graveyard was huge. I could see lights from the highway way out in the distance, but otherwise it was completely dark. Nate led me over a wooden bridge that crossed a creek. I decided to voice my reservations.

"You know, not many girls would be very keen on going to a dark cemetery with a guy they hardly know," I said.

He laughed softly. "It's okay. You'll like it where I'm taking you. I promise."

We followed a path through some trees, and came out on a hill. On top of the hill was a large mausoleum, destroyed probably by a storm, but most of it was still standing. Nate led me over to it, and climbed over the crumbled debris to hoist himself onto the remaining part of the roof. "Come on!" he shouted back to me.

"Are you sure it's safe?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I come here all the time," he said. I sighed and climbed over the broken cement blocks. Nate reached down a hand and helped me onto the roof. We sat down. I looked up at the sky and gasped. The stars were brighter and more numerous than I'd ever seen in Florida. I had a sudden yearning to come back out here alone and bring my father's telescope.

"How did you find this place?" I asked him.

He pointed to our left. "My grandmother is buried way over there," he said. I reached out and pressed his shoulder sympathetically. He continued. "I came here for her funeral two years ago, and I noticed it was very peaceful here. I mean, duh, it's a graveyard. But I'd never thought about it before. I forgot about it, though, until my fiancé left me. One night, I felt like I had to get out of the house, and I remembered this place. So I came down here. It's been my 'alone spot' ever since." Looking at him, I thought to myself that he must really care about me, at least enough for him to bring me here.

Over the next couple hours, we talked about everything. We talked in length about music, and about the state of our government, about past relationships. I learned that his mother had a brain tumor, and was going through treatment for it. He was living with her for the time being, until she could take care of herself.

I noticed that we were gradually moving closer to each other, though I don't think either of us realized it at first. Soon, Nate was close enough to put his arm around me. I leaned against him. It was comfortable and relieving, like slipping into a warm bath. We talked some more. We looked at the stars, and I told him about my interests in astronomy, and how I wanted to eventually have a PhD.

I jumped when Nate tickled me. I'm very ticklish. I tried to pry his hands off of me. He laughed, and kept trying. I squirmed away from him, ending up on my back so that I could fend him off with my legs and feet. It was no use. He was much stronger than me. I laughed and squealed for him to stop. I grabbed his hands forcefully, and yanked them outward. That put us face to face. He pulled his hands from my grasp, and plunged his fingers into my hair, pulling me toward him and kissing me hard. Oh god, yes. I kissed him back. We sank back so that he was lying atop me on the cement roof of the mausoleum. He put one hand behind my head and one on my hip, and let me taste his tongue for the first time. I grinded against his body. The butterflies in my stomach were flapping madly.

His lips were soft and his mouth was sweet. I sucked on his tongue. Our kissing lasted a long time before he pulled away, breathing hard. I don't think that it was due solely to the physical exertion involved in making out.

He looked into my eyes, kissed my forehead, then lay down on his side and pulled me close to him. "I really really like you," he said. "And it scares me."

"Why?" I whispered, shutting my eyes and taking in his scent.

"Why do I like you? Because you're amazing. Why does it scare me? Because I haven't cared for anyone this much since Jennifer left me." He was talking about his fiancé.

"We should take this slow, then," I said. He nodded, and kissed me on the temple.

We stayed there a while longer, not saying much, mostly just enjoying being close to each other. When I finally checked my phone to see what time it was, I saw that it was after 4am.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go back to my house and get some sleep." I nodded. I was pretty tired. I didn't think I'd be going into work today.

He climbed down from the roof, and turned around to help me get down. I made it down to the ground, and he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me deeply again. We held hands walking back to my car. I got into the passenger seat, and fell asleep almost as soon as the car started moving. When I woke up, we were at his house, and he was opening my door to help me come inside.

We were quiet going in. The TV was on in the living room, and his mother was asleep on the couch. Nate stopped to spread a blanket over her. She was a skinny woman, and was missing all of her hair. A wheelchair sat next to the couch. Nate bent to kiss her lightly on the cheek before turning back to me and leading me to his bedroom.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Make yourself at home," he said. He stripped off his boxers and climbed under the covers, then motioned for me to join him. I wasn't wearing a bra, and I didn't want to sleep in my clothes.

"Do you have a T-shirt I can borrow?" I asked. He directed me to the second drawer of his dresser. I selected a Depeche Mode shirt. I undressed with my back to him, and slipped into the T-shirt. Then I went to the bed, and he pulled back the covers for me.

We cuddled up together. He was warm. I had second thoughts, and wiggled out of the shirt I had borrowed, tossing in onto the floor. I wanted to feel his skin against mine. He wrapped his arms around me, and moaned in approval of my mostly-naked state. My final thoughts before falling asleep were wondering how long I could possibly wait to make love to him.

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