A Different Blue(158)

mates from school, and I spent the week completely sloshed doing things I'm rather embarrassed

to talk about.”

[page]“Like what?” I said, half-aghast half-thrilled that Wilson might not be squeaky clean

after all.

“I was absolutely desperate for companionship. I lost my virginity, and I don't remember most

of it. And it didn't stop there. Night after night, club after club, girl after girl, and I just

felt worse and worse as the week went on. I kept trying to restore my equilibrium by doing

things that just made me dizzy. Does that make sense?”

I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. I understood dizzy.

“One of my mates ended up driving me back to Manchester. He made sure I got on that aeroplane

and back to the States in one piece. And over the next six months, I managed to stop the

spinning in my head and find my balance again for the most part. But in many ways being with you

through your journey has been a journey for me, too. I understand myself and my parents – both

sets – so much better now.”

We drove without talking for a long time. Then I asked him the question that had been bothering

me since waking up alone the morning before.

“Wilson? What happened in Reno? I mean . . . I thought you would want . . . I mean, are you not

attracted to me?” I felt like I was asking the star quarterback to the prom, and my knees

shook. Wilson laughed right out loud. And I cringed, trying not to slump down in my seat and

cover my face to hide my rejection. Wilson must have seen the humiliation on my expression, and

with a screech of brakes and some illegal lane changes he was swerving over to the side of the

road, hazards on and everything. He turned to me, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe I

didn't get it.

“Blue. If this was simply about attraction, you and I would never have left Reno. We would

still be in that crappy hotel room, starkers, ordering room service . . . or, more likely, pizza

from down the road. But for me, with you, sex is not the goal. Do you understand that?”

I shook my head. No. I totally did not understand that.

“When you climbed into my bed in Reno, all I could think of was how I felt in London in that

awful week when I'd had more sex than any teenaged boy could dream of. And how gutted I felt at

the end of it. I didn't want our first time to be like that for you. You were emotionally rocked

in Reno, just like I was in London, and you needed me. But you didn't need me that way. Someday

. . . hopefully bloody soon – because I will combust if I ever have to spend a night like that

again – you will want me because you love me, not because you're lost, not because you're

desperate, not because you're afraid. And that's the goal.”

“But, Wilson. I do love you,” I insisted.

“And I love you . . . most ardently,” he responded, twisting my hair in his hands and pulling

me toward him.

“Pride and Prejudice?”

“How did you know?” he smiled.

“I have a thing for Mr. Darcy.”

In response, Darcy himself captured my mouth with his, and showed me just how ardently he cared.





Chapter Twenty-Nine





If it hadn't been for a diesel truck blasting us with his horn and shaking the Suburu as it flew

by, we might have been very, very late for our appointment with my grandmother. As it was, we