Unlikely Love: A Romance Single (14 page)

“How did you find this place?” Delilah gazed at the restaurant in awe.

It looked just like the print of Vincent Van Gogh's '
Cafe Terrace at Night
' painting that her grandma had hung in her downstairs toilet. A small stone terrace sat in front of the restaurant on the tiny, narrow street, similar to the street the nightclub sat on. A small balcony with a couple of metal chairs and tables jutted out from the building, and twinkling fairy-lights lined the railing.

If Nolan was trying his hardest to romance her, it was working.

As they approached the restaurant, Nolan slipped his hand into hers and led the way into the almost empty dining room. They were met by a very enthusiastic waiter who spoke rapidly with Nolan, showing them towards a small metal, spiral staircase in the center of the dining area. Walking up the stairs, she ruffled her still damp hair and she was glad there weren't many other diners to see her.

In the 10 minutes Nolan had given her, she'd managed to apply a little mascara, a hint of lip liner and she'd swept her hair over to one side. Even though it was all she could do in the short time she had, she felt comfortable after spending a full day in her pop star costume.

Hand in hand, they followed the waiter out onto the balcony, and he dodged around them to pull out Delilah's chair, before handing them both menus and vanishing to leave them alone. Encased in the twinkling railings, she felt as if Nolan had taken her to a tiny slice of heaven, tucked away in the backstreets of Madrid.

“So, what do you think? Is this up to your standards?” he joked.

“Oh, it exceeds them,” she let out a soft laugh that floated down the streets.

Glancing over the railings, she could see people walking through the dark, completely ignoring the tiny restaurant. Just when she felt like they were alone, the waiter reappeared with a bottle of wine in an ice bucket and two glasses. He lit the small candle in the middle of the table and vanished again.

“Are we going to talk about what happened earlier?” Nolan said casually as he scanned the menu.

Delilah glanced down at the Spanish writing for a distraction, even though she couldn't understand it.

“I told you, I was just tired,” she smiled.

“Are you sure?”

How could she even begin to explain that she had a boyfriend who was meant to be joining her at the end of her trip?

"Honestly Nolan,” she smiled a little too strong, “it's just been a long day.”

“I'll have you home before midnight Cinderella,” he glanced up and smiled cheekily over the menu, his face dancing softly in the candle light.

Delilah laughed and let out a sigh and started reading the menu again, still not understanding the words. Despite the drama at the studio, she felt at ease. Nolan seemed to have that effect on her. After consulting Nolan on the menu, they ordered starters of tomato and basil soup, a main of Mediterranean vegetables and dessert of sorbet. Delilah insisted that Nolan didn't have to avoid meat just because of her, but he said it was only polite.

Over their dinner they talked about Nolan's childhood and life. She learned that he'd been raised by his aunt and uncle, after his parents died when he was a baby. He moved into a small apartment in New York when he was 18 to study journalism at NYU, where he met his ex-wife, Stella. They married when they both graduated at a tiny ceremony at city hall with a couple of friends, and then they went to Wendy's for the wedding dinner. Everything seemed fine between them until he went home to their apartment one day a little too early to catch Stella his brother. It turned out they'd been having an affair pretty much since the wedding. They divorced when he was 26 and he hadn't seen any of them since. For the last two years, he'd been traveling the world, working for a small travel magazine, which explained his perfect natural tan, and when he wasn't, he lived alone in New York. Aside from a few thousand dollars savings in the bank, he didn't have much, but he was happy with his life.

It made Delilah envious. He didn't have any strings and he had nobody relying on him.

“It gets lonely,” he admitted.

“Sometimes, I just wish I could be alone, just for five minutes. This trip has been like therapy for me. I've had no internet, no phone calls and nowhere to be. Apart from the performance, I don't have to worry about any work.”

“How long has it been like that?”

“Too long,” she laughed as she sipped her wine, but it was a loaded laugh, “I got signed when I was 15 to a small label and worked as a backing singer and song writer. I had my big break at 18 and signed to my label in LA and moved out there. We've spent years laying the ground work, but things are only just starting to blow up. People keep calling me '
Delilah White – Overnight Success
', but they seem to forget I've been working my ass off since I was 15.”

“You were working at 13?”

“I started doing gigs in bars when I was 13. I got a fake driver's license off this guy on the estate, Dodgy Pete, and started grafting. I didn't have a choice. My mum needed me.”

“What about your dad?”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn't like talking about him to anyone. If people asked about him, she'd change the subject. She was about to move the conversation somewhere else, but Nolan hadn't held anything back from her.

“He walked out on us when I was 6,” she took a long sip of the wine, “and I haven't seen him since.”

Nolan didn't say anything. He swirled his wine around in the glass before inhaling and taking a sharp sip. She suddenly remembered what he'd said about his parents dying when he was a baby and suddenly she felt foolish.

“That must have been tough.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, “It's nothing compared to your parents.”

Nolan smiled at her and set the glass down on the table, “Delilah, I didn't even know them. They died when I was 6 months old in a car crash. As far as I was concerned, my aunt and uncle were my parents, and they're still both there for me like parents.”

“They sound nice.”

It made her think about her mother, but she quickly forced herself to think about something else before the homesickness kicked in.

“They're the sweetest couple,” his eyes glazed over, as if a fond memory was clouding his mind, “they're in their 80s now, but they're a real hoot! They're from Brooklyn, so they're real old school. They love each other so much though, I want to find that one day.”

Delilah's heart clenched as a vision of her walking down the aisle in white briefly filled her mind. She couldn't see the face of the groom, but she forced herself to think of something else, again. She tried to imagine what Marcus was up to, or, more likely, who he was with, but the wedding bells wouldn't leave her mind.

“I'm sure you will,” Delilah smiled over her wine glass.

“You'll have to meet them sometime, they'd love you. They're always watching
Bravo,
so they probably know more about you than I do.”

Had he just invited her to meet the parents? Her heart twitched again, and the wine felt funny on top of all of the food they'd eaten. She suddenly thought about the end of her stay in Spain, and getting back to normal. She'd be followed by paparazzi in the supermarket, she'd constantly need to be somewhere and she'd be a six hour flight away from Nolan. They hadn't agreed anything or talked about anything. Aside from a couple of stolen kisses and some heavy petting, there was nothing else there. She tried to tell herself it wouldn't work, but it hurt to think about him being so far away from her.

“Okay,” she nodded, “you'll have to introduce me sometime.”

Nolan smiled, but it was a smile that flickered with sadness. He didn't believe her and he had no reason to. She was a pop star who traveled the world and he was a travel journalist who traveled the world. They'd probably always be heading in opposite directions from each other.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he closed it and stopped himself.

“Go on,” Delilah urged, her heart racing.

“It doesn't matter,” he shook his head heavily, still sadly smiling at her, “it's silly.

“Well...I promise not to laugh. You're not that funny anyway.”

He laughed and narrowed his dark eyes on her. Through the twinkling of the flickering candle, Delilah could have sworn he was the most beautiful man she'd ever met.

“What happens when we leave Spain?” Nolan looked down into his wine glass.

Delilah sat silently for a second, thinking. She had no idea what to say.

“I haven't thought that far ahead,” she shrugged.

“I have,” he smiled, “I've tried to, but I don't want to be stupid. We've only just met.”

“It's not stupid,” she said it before she'd even thought about it.

Their eyes connected across the table. His pupils danced in the light, and her heart returned the dance.

She wanted to reach over the table and stroke his stubbly jaw.

She wanted to pull his lips close to hers.

She wanted his hands to touch every part of her body.

His eyes like fire, he pierced her down into the chair, numbing her body. She had the urge to risk everything she'd spent years working for, for a man. Could she really give up everything to follow a crazy whim? Should she have to give up everything to follow her heart?

“There's no way we could ever work in the real world, I know that,” he nodded, “people like you don't date people like me.”

“That's not true. That's not the problem.”

It was true, but it no longer applied to Nolan. She didn't care about his career or his money.

“And the problem is?”

Where did she start?

“Everything,” she put the wine glass on the table a little too forcefully, causing it to sound out against the metal surface, “we're two people living very different lives.”

Nolan sat silently for a second before pulling his wallet out of his back packet to slam a fist full of crinkled bills on the counter, “Let's get out of here.”

Delilah was surprised by the sudden change of direction. She'd wanted to hear him say that they could figure something out. Perhaps date when they had the chance, or stay in touch somehow?

“Right now?” her nose crinkled.

She had no idea what time it was, but she knew she didn't want to leave him anytime soon.

“Look at us! We're sat here talking about pointless stuff. I said I wanted to get to know you, and we still have an entire week of getting to know each other.”

“But-”

“Fancy a walk on the beach?”

She smiled, and joined him in standing up. After downing the leftover wine, she followed him down the spiraling staircase, and with each step, she felt the wine float merrily to her mind.

A romantic candle-lit dinner and a walk on the beach?

Nolan was too good to be true.

Delilah was sure that he was far too good for someone like her.

Hand in hand, they walked through the street in the dark as if they were lost in their own secret world. The streets could have been empty or filled with people, because Delilah didn't notice. All she noticed was how Nolan's hand held hers firmly, not letting go for anything. When they came to a lamppost, he'd lead her around the side, when crossed the roads, he squeezed it protectively and when they reached the beach, he helped her down the ledge and onto the white sand.

The moon shone down on the still water surface, it's reflection dancing along the surface, all the way to shore. A couple of bars were dotted around the front, but aside from the steady and dim pounding of the bass notes coming from the bars, they were completely alone.

“How perfect is this beach?” Nolan enthused, dragging Delilah across the sand towards the water's edge.

As her gladiator sandals sunk into sand, she was grateful that she didn't choose to wear her heels, because she'd toyed with the idea of throwing them on before leaving the hotel.

“It's perfect,” Delilah sighed, staring out to sea, “everything has been perfect. I don't think I've thanked you for today yet.”

“You don't need to thank me,” he clenched her hand tightly in his.

“You saved my ass today!” she laughed.

Nolan sat down in the sand, Delilah's hand still clutched in his. She fanned her dress out, creating a pillow to sit on, before settling in next to him. Instinctively, she nuzzled into his side.

“The nerd in me liked seeing how things worked behind the scenes,” his tone was playful, “and it was interesting seeing you work.”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “that's the only word I can use to describe it. I mean, that stunt you pulled with that song was genius. You know how to get people's attention.”

“I don't feel like that all the time.”

“You have it in you to,” he leaned his head on hers, and she returned the gesture by leaning her head against his shoulder, “you can do anything you want to in life.”

“Is this what you want to be doing in life?”

“Being here with you?”

Her heart skipped several beats. That's not what she'd meant, but hearing him jump to that conclusion was nice to hear.

“I meant traveling and being a journalist,” she whispered.

“Oh,” he sounded caught off-guard, “I love being a journalist. Writing is my passion. I love traveling as well, but it can get a bit tiring.”

“Do you have a dream?”

Even though she couldn't see his face, she could tell he was concentrating hard on the answer. She'd learned that Nolan was the type of person who thought out everything he said before he said it.

Delilah, not so much.

“You don't want to hear about that. It's boring.”

“Tell me,” she urged.

He thought again for a moment before speaking.

“I want to set up my own company,” he started, “maybe a journalist agency, or an online magazine. I haven't decided yet. Print sales are down every year, so I want to get out of it sooner rather than later.”

“So do it.”

“You know it's not that easy to make these big changes.”

She knew that all too well. She'd worked her entire adult life towards creating a life for herself, that was being shaped and tweaked along the way by a team of people, all pushing and dragging her in different directions.

“Do you want to know what my dream is?” she whispered.

“Of course I do,” his voice was low and rich.

She paused. She'd not thought about it for a long time and she'd never told anybody, apart from her mother.

“When my pop career fizzles out, I want to set up a label of my own. I had this idea when I was a kid that when you become a singer, you got to do things your own way and people would go along with you, but that's not how it happens. I want to set up this new kind of label that supports and develops artists into becoming the people they want to be. I have this vision of me traveling places and plucking undiscovered talent from shit situations. I want to help kids who were like me.”

She finished talking and realized she'd spilled far more of her dream than she'd intended to. Nolan let go of her hand and lifted his head from hers. She followed and looked up to him. Their eyes locked, and even through the dark, they twinkled brightly at her.

“That's the Delilah I see,” his voice like smooth velvet, through the darkness, “that's the real you.”

He was right.

He didn't judge or question.

He didn't want her to be anything other than what she wanted to be.

He didn't want to change her.

“One day I'll be her,” her smile wavered.

Leaning in gently, Nolan's soft lips brushed against hers. Her breath trembled as they delicately kissed. It was as if they'd never kissed before, and they were old lovers, both at once. She feel her heart pounding rhythmically in her chest, matching the steady pounding coming from one of the bars.

“You're already that girl,” Nolan pulled away gently and rested his forehead on hers, “I just wish you could be in my shoes to see what I see.”

“What do you see?”

“I see you. The real you.”

Her heart-rate increased, taking over the music from the club. Her eyelashes fluttered and she swallowed down a lump in her throat. Hazily, she opened her eyes and inhaled his distinct scent.

“You're the first man who has.”

“Good.”

Nolan thrust himself on Delilah, forcing their lips together. She opened her mouth to him as his strong and manly hands caressed her face. As their tongues explored each other's mouths, she leaned backwards into the sand, taking Nolan's weight on top of her. With her hands on his back, she clenched a fist full of his loose denim shirt, urging the fabric to vanish between them.

Under the moon light, they writhed around in the sand, locked together. Nolan's hand found its way onto her breast, and as she moaned gently through the kisses, he started to caress her over her dress. Not pulling away from her tender lips, she guided his hand down the front of her dress and underneath her bra.

She wanted him so badly.

“Delilah – not here – we shouldn't,” Nolan moaned through the kisses, forcing himself harder onto her with every word.

“I want you so bad,” was all that escaped her mouth.

They continued to kiss, and he continued to touch her. She wanted to give in to her desires and she wanted Nolan to as well, but she could feel him fighting with his conscience.

“Delilah – please stop me.”

Through his protests, he didn't stop himself. Instead, he rubbed his hips against hers, forcing his solid member against her. Her hands found their way up to the base of his neck, pulling him even closer into the kiss. She didn’t want him to stop or pull away. She wanted to sink even further into the sand, with his firm body on hers.

“I can’t do this,” Nolan pulled his head away from hers, and closed his eyes heavily.

“Nolan, I want this,” Delilah urged, pulling his head down to hers again.

He let her kiss him, but only for a brief moment. Much to Delilah’s dismay, he pulled away again, but this time he didn’t hover above her face. He dug his elbows into the sand and sprung backwards off her body, resting his straddled knees over her stomach before standing up and turning to face the sea.

Sunken into the sand, she wiped the hair from her face, catching sight of the aching bulge in the front of his jeans. In her whole life, she'd never wanted sex with anybody else as much. Was it because he kept pushing her away, or was it something deeper than that?

“I need to apologize,” he said quietly and calmly as he watched the sea.

Delilah wanted to be mad at him, but he sounded hurt. Scrambling up out of the sand, she dusted the grains from her dress and hair and joined him by slipping her hand into is. Each time their skin touched it sent tingling spreading all over her body, just like it was the first time they were touching.

“Is it something I've done?”

“No!” Nolan protested, “I can safely say, it's all about me, not you.”

Delilah was itching to know why he kept stopping.

“We keep getting into these situations, and I know it's not just me taking it there.”

“I know it isn't,” Nolan laughed softly, “believe me when I say that I keep steering it there too. I can't seem to resist you.”

He squeezed her hand tightly and gazed down at her, with the moonlight dancing in his eyes.

“So don't resist me,” she whispered.

He let out a deep and heavy sigh and turned back to the water.

“I didn't want to tell you this because it's embarrassing. I don't want to rush into this,” he paused, “I don't want to rush into things because I haven't had sex since I left my wife. Two years ago.”

Silence.

“Two years ago?” Delilah repeated.

“Two years ago,” Nolan nodded, “and I kind of want the first time to be special. It sounds silly, but I've built it up to be something that it isn't.”

“So I guess I'm not the right girl?” she nodded, dropping his hand.

He turned to her and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her in close.

“Never say that Delilah. You're more than the right girl. You don't understand the effect you have on me! I can't resist you, but I keep trying with all of my power because I don't want the first time we have sex to be on the beach after drinking a bottle of wine each. I want to remember every second. I, y'know, want
it
to be special,” his voice dropped off, his eyes lowered to the sand and he sheepishly shrugged.

Wave after wave of heat burst from Delilah's heart to spread across her entire body. She wanted to kiss and hug Nolan and tell him that was the most romantic and beautiful thing she'd ever heard. She still wanted to rip his clothes off, but she respected him so much for respecting her, and respecting sex.

“I can wait,” she flicked her hair over her shoulder and smiled at him through the dark, “for you Nolan, I think I'd do just about anything.”

The words took even her by surprise.

“Well, right now, you can walk me back to the hotel? How does that sound?” he smiled.

“Like the perfect end to a perfect day.”

He bit his lip playfully and wrapped his arm over her shoulder. As he walked her up the beach, she slid her arm around his back and nuzzled into his side, letting his intoxicating scent wash over her.