Sweet Imperfection (2 page)

“What do you mean?”

“There are newlyweds and toddlers and people expecting freaking twins all over the place. Makes one feel positively backward.”

“You’re not here with anyone?”

“Certified singleton, that’s me.”

“Oh.” Nate didn’t seem to have a comeback to that, and silence fell between them. The awareness was back, prickling along her skin like static electricity. Was Nate thinking what she was thinking? They had never both been single at the same time in all the years they’d known each other. She was sure of it because if they had been, she might have done something about it—like told him to put his money where his flirty mouth was and ask her out.

Now here they were. Ten years later. No ties to anyone else. Could she have what she’d always been curious about? A night with Nate Hirsch. Did she really want to go there?

Sure, he was good-looking and funny and had a fantastic smile. He seemed to like her, and he didn’t have any major issues. Except he was divorced, and he thought he was clueless about women.

That didn’t matter as long she could teach him something about her.

The idea planted itself in her brain, and she couldn’t get it out.

“I’m surprised you haven’t been scooped up,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “What happened to Christophe? I mean, if you want to talk about it.” He took a sip of his drink.

Was he nervous? She didn’t think she’d ever seen Nate Hirsch nervous about anything.

Christophe had been her boyfriend senior year. She’d been tempted to break up with him before senior week so she could have one last college fling, perhaps with Nate himself, since he’d split up with his longtime girlfriend, Kate, shortly before. But, like always, she’d believed she was in love.

“I don’t mind.” She smiled. “Cataloging my romantic failures is always good for entertainment.”

He looked guilty, and she laughed. “I kid. Christophe…he was a good guy. Very hot.”

“Really?” Nate looked dubious. “He always struck me as kind of a meathead jock.”

“Funny you should say that. We’d talked about moving to New York after graduation—that was always my plan, you know. It turns out he hated cities and waited until a week before our lease started to tell me he was taking off for New Zealand to intern at a sheep farm. I had to scrap the whole thing and move in with a bunch of NYU sorority sisters until I could find another place.”

“Total meathead,” he said. “You’re not the sheep-farmer type, Em.”

“No, I’m not. Weston is about as bucolic as I get. Only an hour away from the traffic and crowds of Boston.”

“Well, I’m sorry you guys didn’t work out.” He didn’t seem very sorry. “And you’ve lived in New York ever since?”

“Yeah. I was born a New Yorker, even though I’d never been there before I was eighteen. I’m trying to convince my parents to move east, but they’re pretty stuck in California.”

“That’s where you grew up, right?”

“Yeah, Palo Alto. My dad teaches Chinese literature at Stanford. My mom actually works at Google now, in HR.”

“Cool,” he said. “And your brother?”

She was vaguely surprised he even remembered she had a brother.

“Mike’s in San Francisco. Also single. My parents have essentially given up on grandchildren.”

“But you’re so young. There’s lots of time.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Well, there is.”

She smiled at him, appreciating his trying to make her feel better. “What about your family?” She thought he had parents who were still together and a sister, or maybe a brother, though she didn’t remember ever meeting them at parents’ weekend or anything.

“My parents are good. My dad retired last year—taught high school math for thirty years. My mom’s trying to get him to take an around-the-world cruise with her. So far, no luck. He’s not a big traveler. I told her she should go alone and make him fend for himself. After two weeks, I guarantee he’d show up in Costa Rica or wherever and beg her to take him with her.”

“That’s adorable, I think,” Emma said. “They sound pretty joined at the hip.”

“My mom worked part-time, but she’s basically taken care of him his entire adult life. And my brother and me.”

“What’s he up to?”

“Ben’s also a teacher, following in Dad’s footsteps. High school science, coaches track and field. Married. No kids yet.”

“Does that make you feel more pressure or less pressure?” she asked.

“Hmm…I’d say less. He’s two years older and married, so he and my sister-in-law would be the logical ones to start having kids.”

“You want kids?” She couldn’t not ask the question.

Nate’s smile faded, again giving Emma the impression he was uncharacteristically sad. “I do. But I’ve learned things don’t always work out, so if I get them, I’ll consider it a lucky break.”

“Yeah, I hear that.” A familiar old ache took up residence in her chest.

“Well, let’s change the subject.”

She laughed. “You don’t say ‘let’s change the subject.’ You have to actually change the subject by bringing up something else.”

Her laughter seemed to shift his mood back to playful. “All right then, Emma Chen-Delvaux. Where are you staying this weekend?”

She narrowed her eyes, but there didn’t seem to be an ulterior motive to the question. “Ashworth 10. For old time’s sake. You?”

“Ashworth 9. I didn’t make it to the five-year reunion, so I figured, ‘What the hell. I’ll stay in my old dorm.’”

“Have you tried the bed yet?” She was having a terrible time
not
flirting with him.

“No, why?” He sounded serious, but his eyes danced.

“They’re not as comfortable as I remember them.”

“That’s because our bones are ten years older. I brought a mattress pad with me, anticipating such a need.”

“You did not.”

“I did. You’ll have to come see if you don’t believe me.”

The challenge lay between them, but Emma sidestepped it. “How did you get it here? On the train?”

He didn’t seem to mind that she hadn’t answered his implicit invitation. “No,” he scoffed. “I rented a car.”

“I wish I’d known you were coming this weekend, and that we live like three blocks from one another. We could have carpooled.”

“Well, that’s what reunions are for. To reunite old friends.”

“Cheers,” she said warmly, lifting her glass of water.

Nate raised his glass to meet Emma’s and suddenly froze. What was he doing? He’d practically invited her up to his room. Not the tone he should be injecting into their relationship. Emma had always been his friend. Sure, he might have lost track of her for a while, hadn’t actually set eyes on her in a decade, but their easy camaraderie and conversation made it seem as if they’d been sharing warm beer on the green during Spring Fling only yesterday.

Of course, he’d always been interested in her back then, too. Who wouldn’t be? She was undeniably attractive with a petite, pert body, exquisite clear skin, thick, straight black hair inherited from her Chinese-American father, and incongruous but captivating violet irises in wide-set eyes passed down from her white, European mother, who had been born and raised in France. He remembered a story she’d told him one day over lunch. She’d gone to see
Beauty and the Beast
with some girls from a new school she’d transferred to when her father got his job at Stanford. None of the girls had believed her when she’d told them she was half-French because she didn’t look anything like Belle. They’d taunted her and called her a liar, and she’d gone home in tears. Her father had given her a lecture on race and politics that had gone over her head, and her mother had—to her extreme embarrassment—called each of the girls’ mothers at home and chewed them out in the most florid French accent she could muster. Emma had told Nate she’d learned her parents would defend her, but she had to be the one who was comfortable with her identity. “The girls all apologized for doubting me, but we never became friends. The worst part was that my mom banished Disney princesses from the house!” She’d laughed, and her candidness had blown him away.

That story was just one of things burned into Nate’s memory files of Emma Chen-Delvaux, including her sexy, girl-next-door looks and the way she fearlessly met his flirtation mode head-on. Nothing he said fazed her. He supposed that was why they’d been able to be friends, despite always having significant others. They could tease each other with no consequences. Neither would consider the other actually interested.

Except now they weren’t with anyone else. She was single, unfathomably. He was still hibernating, hoping when he came out of his cave, the wounds of his brief marriage would be healed over, and he’d be able to offer up a whole man to the next woman who came along, instead of the hollow shell he’d been when he and Alison had called it quits.

He was beginning to suspect the healing process might be over because he was suddenly very interested in Emma.

Since they were both single, would the teasing and flirting take on a new meaning? Did he want it to? There had been times in college when he’d been tempted to make a move on her—girlfriends and boyfriends be damned—and see if they were as good together as he had imagined they would be.

But he’d never let his dick overrule his common decency. Now here they were, two consenting adults, free of obligation to anyone else, looking to survive a reunion as single people among a sea of marrieds and marrieds-with-kids. He could sense they were both a little lonely.

He’d found Emma Chen-Delvaux, single, on the college campus where they’d first met. He wouldn’t get another opportunity like this. He could only hope that putting himself out there wouldn’t strip away the scar tissue he’d carefully grafted over his heart.

Still
, he thought, as he raked his gaze over her from the top of her head down to her sexy, strappy sandals and crimson toenails,
even if it hurt, it might be worth it
. He felt the stirrings of arousal in the base of his belly; he couldn’t place them at first they were so foreign to him. None of his college friends would believe he hadn’t had sex in over a year. It was difficult to imagine it himself sometimes.

He tore his gaze from the neckline of Emma’s simple white tank top and moved it to her face, where he found her smiling a bit uncertainly. “Hmm…what?”

“I said are you going to any of the campus events tonight?”

“Like what? I didn’t pay very much attention to the schedule,” he confessed.

“They’re screening
It Happened One Night
in the cinema, and there’s a square dance or something at one of the fraternities. The all-school dance is tomorrow night on the green.”

“Oh, yeah!” At the all-school dance their senior year, Emma and Christophe had danced every song together, the meathead surprisingly good on the floor, Emma looking fresh and lovely in a white strapless dress. Why did he remember that? He recalled her laughing at his antics as he did the Robot to the Beastie Boys. He’d always been trying to get her attention back then.

“I’m not much for square dancing,” he said. “Want to go to the movie?”

“Sure. We should head up there now. I think it starts at eight.”

They said good-bye to a couple of their classmates as they exited the tent and made for the cinema in the arts complex.

The night was sultry and warm for May. Less than a month from the solstice, the air was tinted the dark blue of twilight, and Nate had the strangest urge to take Emma’s hand in his as they walked. He was afraid that if he tried, though, she’d laugh at him. It wasn’t exactly his signature move, but it would have been nice to walk hand-in-hand with a pretty girl through the cut-grass-scented air.

She didn’t seem to pick up on the potential romance of their situation, or if she did, she wanted to avoid it because she started asking him about their mutual friends. They began comparing notes on who was doing what and with whom.

“Kate’s apparently a lesbian,” he said, getting into the spirit of the gossip session.

“What? She is not.” Emma’s reaction was gratifyingly astonished.

“She is. I saw her not long ago. She’s engaged to a woman she met doing roller derby.”

“Are you serious? That’s great, but wow. You guys were together for like….”

“A year,” he said. “I know.”

“Did you know…I mean, when you guys were together, did she….”

“Tell me she’d rather be having sex with a woman? No, she did not. I thought we were good together even in the sex department. I mean, she never complained to me.”

“Then you must be better than I thought.”

Nate shot Emma a sideways glance, and she grinned.

“I mean, if you could satisfy a lesbian….”

He laughed. “Oh, yeah, that’s me. Gay, straight, they leave happy.”

She giggled. The sound warmed him, but also depressed him. Maybe she’d never be interested in him sexually. They’d been friends for so long she probably didn’t see him that way. As heightened as his senses were around her, he wondered whether two hours sitting next to her inside a dark movie theater was such a good idea. “What’s this movie about?”

“I’m going to confess something. It’s in black and white, but it’s excellent. You’ll love it,” she assured him.

He mock-groaned. “You know I don’t like any movie made before 1994.”

“Well, this one was made in 1934, and it’s an absolute classic. Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert. Trust me.”

“All right.” He could handle himself for the length of a movie. When they got out, if he still felt like holding her hand, or kissing her, or taking her back to his dorm room and trying out that twin-sized bed, he was giving himself permission to do it. She might think it was a good idea. If she didn’t, maybe they were such good friends they’d be able to laugh about the time he’d made a pass at her at their next reunion.

Kill me now
. The movie was halfway over. Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert were arguing their way into each other’s hearts, and Emma was so turned on by having Nate three inches from her body she’d jumped out of her tiny cinema seat when he’d tapped her on the arm to offer her a piece of gum.