Making Sense: Sensual Healing, Book 2 Read online

Page 2

Nate laughed. “Then I shall call you Aroha from now on.”

  Freya smiled, but a shiver ran all the way from the top of her head to the base of her spine. Most people pronounced it like the Hawaiian word aloha, but Nate said it perfectly, giving each syllable the same emphasis, slightly hardening the ‘R’ until it was almost a ‘D’.

  “Freya is also the Norwegian goddess of love,” said Ash.

  “The other side of my family’s from Scandinavia,” said Freya, “like yours. Hence the colour.” She gestured to her shoulder-length hair. It was also blonde, although much lighter than his.

  “Nothing to be proud of,” said Mia. “Blondes are dumb as. No offence, Ash.”

  “None taken,” he said wryly. “Allegedly they also have more fun.”

  “Then clearly most blondes don’t do shiftwork,” said Freya, making them all laugh.

  Nate’s gaze lingered on Freya’s hair for a moment before he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, sipping his beer. The table was small, and his knee rested against hers beneath the surface, but he didn’t move away. Perhaps he assumed it was the table leg, thought Freya. But she decided not to put him straight.

  “Mia?” They all looked up as a man appeared behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Oh, hi.” Mia stood. “That’s okay, I wasn’t expecting you until now anyway.” She smiled at the rest of them. “This is Ross.”

  “Hey Ross,” everyone said. Freya studied him with interest. She hadn’t known Mia was meeting him tonight. They’d only been out on a couple of dates, as far as she knew.

  “Hey.” Ross nodded at them all and then beckoned with his head to Mia. “Shall we?”

  “Yeah. See you all later. Nice to meet you again, Nate.” They threaded their way toward the doors, disappearing into the crowd.

  “Huh,” said Grace. “Well that’s never going to work.”

  “Why not?” said Ash. “He seemed nice enough.”

  “He’s shorter than her. Mia would never get serious about a man who was shorter than her.”

  Ash laughed. “Maybe this one’s got an extra special something you don’t know about.”

  “It’s going to have to be a very big special something to keep her interested,” said Grace. They laughed, and Grace sighed. “I just want her to find what I’ve got, you know? I feel guilty sometimes. She deserves to have someone make her feel special, too.”

  Ash slipped a hand behind her neck. “She’ll find someone, honey. And you shouldn’t feel guilty. You deserve some happiness as well.” He leaned forward and kissed her.

  Freya watched them, smiling. They weren’t usually given to public displays of affection, and it was nice to see Grace flush prettily, her hand coming up to touch his face. She’d had a difficult time of it, dealing with his unusual job and coming to terms with being the stepmother to his teenage daughter, but they were so happy now that they were together. Freya was pleased for her flatmate, if somewhat jealous.

  She looked away, meeting Nate’s eyes. He watched her, smiling slightly, and her cheeks grew warm at his intense, curious gaze. “What?” she asked self-consciously.

  “Your eyes. They’re different colours.”

  “Oh.” She laughed. “Yes. I forget most of the time.”

  He moved closer until he was only a foot away, looking deeply into them. “One’s blue, one’s green.”

  “It’s called heterochromia,” she said, wishing it didn’t sound like a sexually transmitted disease. She felt suddenly breathless. His eyes were a very dark brown, almost black, and the obvious interest in them made her heart pound.

  “They’re fascinating.”

  “Thank you,” she said, unable to think of anything wittier to say. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her lips parted involuntarily, and his curved in response. He was thinking about kissing her. She gave a slight shake of her head and thought Oh no, not realising she’d said it out loud until she saw his eyebrows rise. She bit her lip. The mere thought of this gorgeous man taking her in his arms nearly gave her a panic attack.

  She glanced at Grace and Ash, seeing they’d pulled apart and were now watching her and Nate with amusement. Nate just smiled and finished off his beer. Freya leaned back in her chair, flustered. This wouldn’t do at all. She had exams coming up, lots of double shifts, and a life plan she was very close to implementing. Now was not the time to be going starry-eyed over some rock star wannabe she barely knew. The wine made her head ache, and the room felt stuffy. Time to go home, she thought, picking up her handbag. “I think I’ll be off.”

  “We’d better go too,” said Ash, checking his watch. “I’m shattered. Ready, love?”

  “Yeah.” Grace finished off her wine and stood.

  Ash looked at Nate and nodded toward Freya. “Do me a favour—make sure Freya gets home safely?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “It’s okay,” said Freya hastily. “I walk home alone all the time. It’s perfectly safe and well lit.”

  Nate shrugged. “I could do with some fresh air. Clear the head.”

  Freya shot Grace a glare, but the other girl just grinned. “Night, you two.”

  “Night,” Freya said, moving the glare to Ash, but he just laughed and put a hand in the small of his girlfriend’s back, guiding her through the crowd, leaving them alone.

  Subtle, thought Freya, sighing and finishing off her wine. Real subtle.

  Chapter Two

  Nate watched Freya finish off her drink, observing her flushed cheeks. She thought Grace and Ash were trying to fix her up with him. He frowned, knowing that hadn’t been Ash’s plan. Ash would have known Nate was the last person who’d be interested in a blind date, and he would have been intent only on making sure she got home safely. Grace, however, was another matter. She occasionally teased him about his single status, and she’d promised she’d see him hooked up with a decent girl before too long. He’d have to have a word with Ash about that. He didn’t want her springing her female friends on him like this, even if they were as beautiful and elegant as the lovely Freya.

  He retrieved his guitar, brought the strap over his head and let the guitar rest against his back, and then gestured for Freya to precede him, watching her as she pushed her way through the crowd to the exit. He’d first seen her at the Michael Fowler Centre when Ash had performed there a few months ago, and he remembered thinking how gorgeous she was then. Average height, maybe five-foot-six or -seven, she had a curvy figure with a generous bust, and although she wasn’t overweight, she wasn’t stick thin either, just nicely rounded. Her beautiful, shiny blonde hair looked as if it would feel like silk in his hands, curling where it lay on her shoulders. She had a tempting, plump bottom lip that she tended to nibble thoughtfully, and those amazing, unusual eyes, mismatched like a pair of odd socks. Tonight, she wore practically next to nothing because of the heat, just a thin black vest and a pair of light blue cotton cut-offs that showed her shapely calves. Also, judging by the mesmerising movement of her breasts and the lack of a VPL, she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  Hmm. His thermostat rose.

  She slipped through the people choking the doorway to the cooler air outside, taking a moment to absorb the summer night, breathing in deeply, out slowly. She took a small tube out of the pocket on her hip, and he saw it was lip balm, red, probably cherry or strawberry flavour. She slid off the lid and twisted the base, smoothing it across her lips in a quick slick. They now looked soft and glossy, and she pressed them together in an age-old feminine gesture, stirring his blood.

  She slid the tube back into her pocket and glanced up at him. “You really don’t have to walk me home, Nate. I’m a big girl, and I walk home from work all the time when I finish my shift.” She gestured to the bar with her head and grinned. “And I saw all the attention you were getting in there. I wouldn’t want to cramp your style when you’re so obviously in luck tonight.”

  “Ash asked me to walk you home. He’s my boss. I wouldn’t
dream of going against his wishes.”

  “Really, I insist.”

  “Now this is going to get awkward, because I’ll be following you ten paces behind, which will look like I’m stalking you, and that won’t end well.”

  She met his determined gaze, and her lips started to curve. “Do you always do what Ash tells you?”

  “Yes. So are you going to get me in trouble, or will you behave and let me escort you home?”

  “Okay. You can walk me home. But you’ll have to walk on the road side in case we get attacked by pirates.”

  He laughed, falling in step beside her as they began to walk south along Willis Street. “You do shifts? Where do you work?”

  “At Wellington Hospital. I’m a nurse.”

  “Ah.” It had been so busy in the bar there wouldn’t have been any point in examining her aura. Now, however, as he glanced at her and relaxed his gaze, he saw the tell-tale green glow around her head and shoulders, marking her out as working in the caring professions. “Have you worked there long?”

  “Several years. I’m mostly in oncology now.”

  He’d have to remember that and check her shifts next time he went there to make sure he didn’t bump into her.

  She smiled at him. “So tell me about yourself, Nate Taylor. I know nothing about you.”

  “Nothing much to say,” he replied. Was she going to barrage him with questions? It was his own fault—he shouldn’t have flirted with her in the bar. A wave of uneasiness engulfed him, and he looked away, up at the star-filled sky. They turned into Manners Street, and to the north he could see Orion, the three bright stars in his belt glowing brightly.

  “Betelgeuse is bright tonight,” Freya said, following his gaze to the glowing red star at the bottom right of the constellation. “Not much cloud cover, is there?”

  He glanced at her. “You into astronomy?”

  “A bit. I used to live near Stonehenge Aotearoa. I’ve always wanted to go to the real thing in England.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “I have to make do with studying the sky from home. There’s a great view from my bedroom window.” She glanced at him and clearly realised the implication behind her words, because her eyes widened. “Eek! Sorry, that came out wrong. ‘Come up and see my swatches.’” He couldn’t help but laugh at that. She shook her head, her blue and green eyes gentle. “I’m not hitting on you, Nate, I promise. I’m so far from wanting a relationship right now, I couldn’t tell you.”

  Suddenly, he realised that not only was she telling the truth, she was also trying to put him at ease. He could feel the soothing energy coming from her, even though she wasn’t aware of sending it. Someone had obviously told her he didn’t date, Ash probably. That realisation made him relax, and the fact that she’d stated she wasn’t interested either meant he could show a little attention without causing trouble. “Why don’t you want a relationship? Because of your work?”

  “Work’s busy, but no, that wouldn’t stop me dating.” She waved her hand in the air vaguely. “Family stuff. Commitments, you know. People relying on you—duty, responsibility. The last thing I want is someone else thinking they deserve a piece of me. There’s only so much of me to go around.”

  “Yeah,” said Nate. “I know what you mean.”

  “I want to travel, when I’ve saved up enough money. Be free, you know?”

  “Oh yeah.” More than I can tell you. He smiled at her. He liked her more and more as the minutes went by.

  She sighed, casting him an amused glance. “Grace will be hugely disappointed. She’s desperate to get me hooked up with someone by the end of the year.”

  “Me too. I suppose it’s only because she’s happy, and she’s the sort of person who likes to share that happiness.”

  “Mm. She’s a sweetie.”

  “How did you meet her?”

  “She works with Mia—they went to university together and shared a flat for several years, but then their rent went up, and they decided they could do with another flatmate. I met Mia at the hospital. I was in the ER then, and Mia came in because she’d nearly sliced her finger off doing the dinner. We got talking, and I happened to mention I was looking for a place to live. I met her and Grace one evening, and we all got on famously. Et voila.”

  “Mia’s a handful,” he said, smiling, and she grinned.

  “Yes. Her and Grace—she who says the first thing that comes into her head—are a right pair.”

  “And you’re the quiet one,” he observed. “Aroha.” He couldn’t stop his lips curving.

  Her eyes met his, and she smiled. “Are you flirting with me now that you know I’m safe?”

  “Yep.”

  She shrugged happily. “Fair enough. Flirting’s fun. Usually a girl has to be careful otherwise she gets called…” She wrinkled her nose. “Well. It rhymes with ‘quick freezer’.”

  He laughed out loud at that. “It’s a shame you’re not on the market, Miss…”

  “Fletcher.”

  “…Miss Fletcher, because I’m sure you’d make some man very proud to call you his young lady.”

  “I could say the same of you, Mr. Taylor. But substituting gentleman for lady, obviously.”

  “Well indeed, aren’t we being all Jane Austen tonight?”

  Freya glanced up at him, eyes widening.

  “Oops. What did I say?”

  “Just an earlier comment from Mia,” she said airily. “Nothing to do with you.” But her gaze slid from his face, running lightly down his body before she looked away, and he knew she was lying. He could only imagine what the mischievous Mia had said to cause the beautiful blush painting Freya’s cheeks.

  Time for him to repay the misdirection she’d done earlier. “Did you like the music tonight?” he asked, and she gave him a grateful smile before starting to talk about bands and what kinds of music she liked listening to.

  They chatted about this and that for another five minutes, walking down Courtenay Place, the occasional group of loud, inebriated young men crossing their path. He was glad he’d insisted on accompanying her home. He didn’t like to think of her walking late at night alone.

  “Our house is down Marjoribanks,” she said, crossing the main road and leading him into the slightly more suburban street, the two-storey Edwardian houses casting shadows across the pavement. With less light pollution here, the sky was brilliantly clear, the Milky Way a wide brushstroke of light against the black dome of the night, studded with a million stars.

  Her phone jangled in her pocket, and she took it out, giving him an apologetic look. “Excuse me.” She flipped it open and pressed a button, reading a text. Her pace slowed, and he watched her read, pausing next to her as she stopped.

  “Shit,” she said vehemently.

  “Bad news?”

  She glanced up at him, agitation and frustration written all over her face. Flipping the phone shut, she looked away, biting the soft bottom lip he’d been unable to drag his eyes from since he met her. “Oh, it’s just…stupid family stuff.” She started walking again, and he joined her, saying nothing until she stopped outside a large, whitewashed house, tucking the phone in her pocket.

  “Thanks for walking me home,” she said, but the starlight had gone from her eyes, leaving them dull and flat.

  He could feel the waves of despair rolling from her. “Anything I can do?”

  “No…” She looked down, obviously trying to control herself, taking a shaky breath in, and letting it out slowly. “Why is life about control? Why does everybody want to control everyone else?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She spoke fiercely. “Why do I feel like I have a permanent leash around my neck? I just want to be free. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have no responsibilities, no duties to fulfil.”

  “It’s pretty good,” said Nate.

  Her eyes met his, and she gave a brief, wry smile, but looked away again, shaking her head. “You don’t know how lucky you are.”


  “I really do.” He didn’t elaborate, didn’t need to. He could see she understood, that she could read some of the past pain that still lingered in his eyes like smoke from a stamped-out campfire.

  She looked away, her body tight, defensive. “I’m only twenty-five, and I’m tired of life. I don’t want to be, but I have absolutely no say in the matter, and it makes me mad. Everything’s always so fucking complicated.”

  He felt for her so much it hurt. He knew exactly how her throat would be tight with frustration, how her helplessness would be an oppressive weight on her chest. Just the memory of being so powerless made rage boil in his stomach. He hardly knew her, and yet he wanted to grab whatever it was that had hurt her and wring its neck until it lay gasping on the ground, then let her fly free like a bird. But there wasn’t anything he could do to help her.

  Even as that thought entered his head, he remembered some of Ash’s first words to him, the day Ash had invited him backstage after the Auckland show. “Sharing a problem halves the burden,” he’d said, when Nate had sat silently, so weighed down with unhappiness he’d hardly been able to lift his head. “Knowing we’re not in it alone can be the first step toward healing.”

  Nate still had a long way to go. But he recognised pain when he saw it, and in spite of everything that had happened to him, relieving others’ pain would always be important to him.

  “Not everything has to be complicated.” He reached out to cup her cheek. His hand immediately grew warm, and he stroked her skin with his thumb.

  She looked up at him, but she was too far gone, and a tear tipped over the edge of her lashes and spilled down her cheek.

  It nearly broke his heart. “Oh, come here.”

  He cupped her face with both hands, moved closer to her and kissed her.

  Cherry, was his first thought as their lips touched and he tasted the lipbalm he’d seen her apply earlier. Concentrate, was his second, and for a moment he focussed on the heat in his palms, feeling her soak it up like a sponge.

  He’d only meant to make it a quick kiss, a reason for him to touch her, a playful method of cheering her up when she was so obviously down. But she shivered and inhaled, her lips opening slightly beneath his, and all rational thoughts fled his mind as her body relaxed and melted against him, the tension flowing out of her.