True believer - Nicholas Sparks [81]
Lust, meanwhile, could happen almost instantly, and that’s why his mother would have smacked him. To her, the description of lust was simple: two people learn they’re compatible, attraction grows, and the ancient instinct to preserve the species kicks in. All of which meant that while lust was a possibility, he couldn’t love Lexie.
So there it was. Case closed. Alvin was wrong, Jeremy was right, and once again, the truth had set him free.
He smiled with satisfaction for a moment before his brow began to wrinkle.
And yet . . .
Well, the thing was, it didn’t quite feel like lust, either. Not this morning, anyway. Because even more than wanting to hold her or kiss her, he simply ached to see her again. To spend time with her. To talk to her. He wanted to watch her roll her eyes when he said something ridiculous, he wanted to feel her hand on his arm like the day before. He wanted to watch her nervously tuck strands of hair behind her ear, and listen as she told him about her childhood. He wanted to ask her about her dreams and hopes for the future, to know her secrets.
But that wasn’t the strange part. The strange part was that he couldn’t perceive an ulterior motive for his impulses. Granted, he wouldn’t say no if she wanted to sleep with him, but even if she didn’t, just spending time with her would be enough for now.
Deep down, he simply lacked an ulterior motive. He’d already made the decision that he would never again put Lexie in the position he had the night before. It had taken a lot of courage, he thought, to say what she had. More courage than he had. After all, in the two days they’d seen each other, he hadn’t even been able to tell her that he’d been married before.
But if it couldn’t be love and it didn’t feel like lust, what was it? Like? Did he like her? Of course, he did, but that word didn’t quite capture his feelings, either. It was a little too . . . vague and soft around the edges. People liked ice cream. People liked to watch television. It meant nothing, and it didn’t come close to explaining why, for the first time, he felt the urge to tell someone else the truth about his divorce. His brothers didn’t know the truth, nor did his parents. But, for whatever reason, he couldn’t shake the realization that he wanted Lexie to know; and right now she was nowhere to be found.
Two minutes later, Jeremy’s phone rang, and he recognized the number on the screen of his cell phone. Though not in the mood, he knew he had to answer, or the man would probably burst an artery.
“Hey there,” Jeremy said. “What’s happening?”
“Jeremy!” Nate shouted. Through the static, Jeremy could barely hear him. “Great news! You can’t believe how busy I’ve been. It’s been a madhouse! We’ve got a conference call with ABC at two o’clock!”
“Great,” he said.
“Hold on. I can’t hear you. This reception is terrible.”
“Sorry . . .”
“Jeremy! Are you still there? You’re breaking up!”
“Yeah, Nate, I’m here . . .”
“Jeremy?” Nate shouted, oblivious to his answer. “Listen, if you can still hear me, you’ve got to use a public phone and call me here. At two o’clock! Your career depends on this! Your entire future depends on this!”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” he said, almost as if talking to himself. “I can’t hear a thing you’re saying. Hit a button if you caught everything I’m saying.”
Jeremy pressed the 6.
“Great! Fantastic! Two o’clock! And be yourself! Except for the sarcastic part, I mean. These people seem pretty uptight . . .”
Jeremy hung up the phone, wondering how long it would take for Nate to realize that he wasn’t on the line anymore.
Jeremy waited. Then waited some more.
He paced the