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A storm crosses his features, darkening his expression. “That statement better not mean what I think it means.”
“Why do you even care?” I challenge, my heart fluttering at the possibility that Nicky Conners could be angry at the thought of me with a guy.
“You’re J’s best friend, Daph. I don’t need my baby sister hanging around with someone who promotes that kind of behavior.”
Of course, he’s worried about his sister. Duh. In what world could I possibly have thought that was about me?
“Don’t worry. Any understanding I have is not from actual life experience.” The tension in Nicky’s shoulders visibly lessens, and I feel compelled to offer additional assurances. “I’ll have you know, though, your sister is not a follower. She may be younger than me, but she’s the best role model I could ask for, Nick.”
His scowl gives way to a small smile, the sight of him inspiring me to return the gesture. Nicky’s beautiful in every form, but the love that shines in his eyes when it comes to J lights him up in a way like no other. I could stare at this boy forever.
Then it hits me that I’m probably staring at him exactly like that right now. My cheeks heat with embarrassment, and I turn to escape the shared space that’s suddenly become all too suffocating.
“Daphne!” Nicky calls out unexpectedly.
I jump, awkwardly spinning and cracking my elbow into the doorframe. A sharp pain ricochets through my funny bone and I bite down on my lip to stifle a groan.
Geez, that hurt.
Nicky’s at least kind enough not to call out my ridiculous display of poor coordination, though a slight chuckle does manage to escape him.
Leaning back against the counter, he tilts his head playfully to the side. “You busy?”
***
I shriek, clutching onto Nicky with an iron grip as the bike skids to a stop in front of the house. He pats the outside of my thigh, signaling me to hop off. I do so, pulling the helmet from my head and shaking out my hair.
Nicky follows suit, laughing as he removes his mud-soaked shirt.
“I cannot believe you drove us through that mud pit!” I glance down at the thick layer of dried dirt caked all over my legs.
“Oh, come on. You loved it.”
“It was fun,” I agree. “It would have still been fun without the grime.”
“Eh.” He scrubs a hand over his unruly blond hair several times. “Agree to disagree.”
His smile is blinding, the bright white of his teeth a stark contrast to his dirt-streaked skin. He’s beautiful.
“That’s a good look for you, Conners.”
“What? Dirty?”
I reach up, my index finger poking him in the dimple of his right cheek. “Happy.”
His smile shrinks the slightest bit, losing some of its shine. “Do I normally come across as sad?”
“Not particularly, but when you’re on a bike… I don’t know. Your smile. It’s—”
“Bigger?”
“Genuine.” The word slips out before I’m able to stop it, and I instantly wish I could take it back. He flinches, the movement so subtle I barely catch it, but I know it’s a direct hit to the armor he’s carefully crafted to protect himself.
Nicky walks around like this carefree bad boy, and in some ways he may be. But I see the other stuff, too. The part of him he tries to hide behind his smiles and sarcasm.
I see the emptiness in his eyes.
His frustrations with the world and everyone around him.
