Chapter 38

For a moment, neither of them moved. They were seated next to each other, bodies turned in slightly toward each other, just inches apart. To Erica, the air around her felt suddenly electric, and every instinct in her screamed at her to get up, to move away, before she made a huge mistake.

David held his breath as he watched her, so very close to him. He realized with a start that he wanted to grab her, to reach out with his good arm and pull her against him and kiss her with everything he had in him, but he was afraid to move, afraid to push her away, afraid to add to the emotional turmoil she was already in.

He finally couldn't resist. He reached out with his right hand and gently trailed a fingertip along her cheek. The bruises were now gone, and her face was as lovely as ever. She blew out a shaky breath in response and closed her eyes.

She waited, afraid to move, afraid to even breathe. He would kiss her. She knew he would. Any second now she would feel his lips against hers, full and warm and sensuous. She was horrified to realize that a part of her wanted him to kiss her.

David saw her part her lips ever so slightly as her eyes fluttered shut. He wanted desperately to lean in and kiss her, to cradle her face in his hands, inhale the scent of her perfume, and pull her body against his. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't do that to her, not when she was still suffering so much because of Jonathan Kinder, not when she was more or less happily married. He had already hurt her beyond belief by keeping Bianca and Miranda apart, and he had no desire to wreck her marriage or do anything that might cause her more pain.

After several seconds, he drew together the willpower to remove his hand from her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him in surprise. His eyes met hers for another moment, and then he looked away.

She drew in a breath to steady herself before speaking. "So you're saying that you did what you did because you care about me," she said.

He ran his fingers through his hair again. "Yeah, something like that, I guess."

He needed to do something, say something to break the tension in the room, to put an end to the electricity he could feel radiating between them.

"I guess… maybe I felt like it was the least I could do after I let Krystal and Babe keep Miranda," he said, knowing he was bringing up the one subject that was guaranteed to infuriate Erica.

Just as he expected, her body tensed, her eyes flashed in anger, and she stood quickly, moving away from him.

"What you did to Bianca," she said angrily before he cut her off.

"What I did to Bianca was unforgivable, and I know that. I don't expect your forgiveness," he said seriously. "I don't want to dwell on that because I'm well aware of how you feel about my actions, but you asked why I came for you in New Hampshire. I did it in part because to make up for what I did to Bianca and because yes, Erica, I do still care about what happens to you."

"I see," she said icily as she stood in front of the fireplace, far from him.

"And because I care about you," he continued, "I couldn't just leave you at the mercy of a sick bastard like Jonathan Kinder."

"So where does this leave us?" she asked.

David leaned back against the sofa and pondered her question for a moment before deciding to go with a light answer. He wasn't sure he could handle any further deep conversation about the past, both recent and distant.

"Well, I guess it leaves us as two people who care about each other, and it leaves you in charge of the remote control because I made you watch basketball last night," he said with a smile as he slide the remote across the coffee table toward her.

She eyed the remote in surprise. That wasn't what she'd expected him to say, but perhaps it was for the best. Talking to him about Jonathan Kinder was one thing. Talking to him about Bianca or about them, about their relationship and any lingering feelings they might have, well, that was quite another.

She picked up the remote and sat down on the far opposite end of the sofa. "Okay then. I want something classic and old in black and white," she said, offering him a tentative smile.

A few minutes later, she nearly squealed with delight when she flipped through the channels and stumbled upon the opening credits for "Casablanca."

"Oh, David, this is one of my favorite movies! We have to watch this," she said almost pleadingly.

He laughed at her enthusiasm. "Okay, whatever you want."

Two hours later, she was wiping away tears and sighing over the film.

"God, I haven't seen that movie in years," David said. "If you want new code names, THAT is a good movie to pick from."

"Oh really?" Erica asked with a laugh.

"Sure. I can be Rick, and you can be Ilsa," he said. "I always did identify with Humphrey Bogart's character in that film."

"Mmmm… I can see that," Erica said.

"Really? I remind you of Humphrey Bogart?" he asked, grinning at her.

"I didn't say that. I said I could see you identifying with Rick Blaine," she clarified.

"Yeah… suave, devilishly handsome nightclub owner and businessman who is adored by the ladies and doesn't give a damn about morals or the rest of the world. That's pretty much me," David quipped.

"Yes, right up until the end of the film when Rick does the right thing and sacrifices his own happiness with Ilsa so she can escape with her husband, and then he and Louis join the resistance movement," Erica laughed.

"What? You don't think I could be the good guy?" he asked.

Her face softened. "You've already been the good guy. You saved me, remember?"

"How could I forget?" he said quietly. "So I guess Rick and Ilsa it is."

She smiled. This felt familiar. It felt nice. It scared her.