Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just like writing about the adorable Nathan and Audrey.
When Audrey Parker kissed Nathan Wuornos on the cheek, it took him a moment to realize that he had felt her touch.
He was wrapped up in his thoughts, of Jess leaving, of his own self-doubt, and a swirl of other confusing emotions which included embarrassment but didn't end there. He listened to Audrey's words about being his friend, and he searched for something to say. He remembered wanting to hug her, but resisting. The sensation of her lips, warm on his cheek, was so unexpected that it took an instant to register what had just happened.
When it hit him, his breath caught, and his hand flew up to his cheek where her touch had left it tingling. When he looked, he found she had missed his reaction completely, having turned away to walk around to the passenger door of the Bronco. His heart was racing, and all he could think was how good it had felt, how shockingly sensual. But how? He couldn't think straight. She was in the truck now, waiting, and if he stood there staring any longer, she would definitely notice. He took a breath and tried to steady himself before climbing in beside her.
It was a quiet drive back. He didn't quite trust his voice yet, and he avoided looking at her. She didn't seem to mind, and sat staring out the window lost in her own thoughts. When they got into town he finally cleared his throat as nonchalantly as he could. "Want me to drop you at the Gull?"
She shook out of her reverie. "Hmm? Oh, sure. Thanks." She smiled at him.
He looked away quickly, gluing his eyes to the road ahead. He was suddenly feeling breathless again. He needed to be alone and think.
After what seemed like the longest two-minute drive he had ever made, they pulled up outside the Gull. Audrey immediately hopped out, giving a tired sigh. He made himself look at her, made himself wave back as she said goodnight. "See you tomorrow, Nathan." Her smile was weary, but her eyes were warm. All he could manage was a nod back before she turned and headed up to her apartment.
He pulled out of the drive, his head still spinning. He just wanted to sit and think, and maybe something would make sense. When he finally got home, he deliberately went through his routine, removing his boots, hanging up his coat, and placing his gun and badge in the drawer by his bed.
He was suddenly very thirsty. He went to the kitchen to gulp down a glass of water, but it didn't seem to help. He closed his eyes, standing with his fingertips resting on the counter, wondering if he could have imagined the whole thing. But that sensation had been so achingly, wonderfully real.
He rubbed his eyes, an instinctive movement, though he can't feel his hand against his face. He never could seem to shake the habitual gestures from when he could feel, though they didn't serve a purpose now—other than reminding him about his Trouble.
It occurred to him that he was supposed to be moping over the loss of Jess in his life. He had expected to spend the evening over a glass of whiskey, maybe. He missed her now, but the pang of it was gone completely. He realized that he probably had never truly believed it would work between them. He'd been so worried and embarrassed about how his Trouble would affect her, and them.
He noticed that he had been standing in the same place for a while now. He looked around his kitchen, thinking he should probably eat, since he hadn't had much since breakfast. But he didn't feel hungry at all. He just wanted to clear his head, somehow. He opted for a shower and bed. When he ran the water he knew it was probably too hot, but didn't really care. He liked the steam. Even though he couldn't feel the stream of water, he noticed his breathing loosen in the moist air.
Later, as he lay staring up at the ceiling, he wondered if he would sleep at all tonight. He closed his eyes, remembering exactly how her lips felt on his skin. Soft, and so warm. When he finally did drift off, he was cupping the cheek she had kissed in his hand.