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We ascend the stairs in silence, save for Nicky’s fading chuckles, until we’re suddenly standing in his foyer, cut off from the outside world.
“The boys here?” I glance around, scanning the area for Rico and JP. The latter normally annoys the hell out of me, but I’d welcome his smartass sarcasm right now. Anything to serve as a buffer for the tension threatening to asphyxiate me as the memory of the last time I was here plays out in my mind—the night I ran from him after he rejected me again.
“Nah.”
Of course not. God’s never thrown me a bone before when it comes to Nicky C. Why start now? Even in this massive foyer, the walls somehow feel as though they’re closing in. I don’t know why I thought I could handle this. My arm crosses over my midsection to grip hold of my opposite elbow, my teeth worrying my bottom lip as I shift my weight uneasily from one foot to the other.
“Breathe, Daph,” Nicky commands, his gaze locking with my own. “In.” He draws in a breath, setting the pace as we inhale deep in unison. “Out.” We expel the air from our lungs, repeating the process two more times. While I don’t relax completely, it sure as hell helps.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m not trying to make it awkward. I swear.”
“I get it. Trust me, I was stressing this a bit, too. Hence, the track.” He gestures to the mud heavily caked on his pants and boots, evidence of his own personal form of therapy.
“You said you wanted to talk?”
He nods, eyes still trained on mine. They’re hypnotizing, almost as though he’s coaxing the soul straight from my body.
“Well?” I bristle, fighting to shake free of their hold. “Talk, then.”
“Now that your hip attachment—AKA my sister—is home, we’re going to find ourselves in a lot more situations together. I’d really like it if we could coexist. Like it used to be back in the day.” The sincerity with which he speaks works to soothe some of my apprehension, allowing my shoulders to relax a fraction.
My eyes, which had dropped to the floor in a show of avoidance, slowly lift to find his. “Anything else?”
Nicky smiles, his expression an equal mixture of playful and mischief. “Just because you’ve bounced on my cock doesn’t mean we can’t be friends?”
I snort, the snicker bubbling up out of me so suddenly that I can’t contain it. Once the first chuckle slips free, I’m a goner. The resulting laughter echoes off the marble of the floor, intermingling with Nicky’s, who’s lost it right alongside me. Nicky initiates a step, reaching out his hand to swipe at the tears that have slipped free. My laughter settles when his thumb makes contact, brushing along the curve of my cheekbone, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake.
My lashes flutter, mouth running dry as I force a swallow. “And you’ll be okay with that?” My breath hitches as he takes another step. “With us just being friends?”
Nicky issues a slight shake of his head, the corner of his mouth curling up into a subdued smile. “Fuck no. But after three months without you?” His hand slides back to the nape of my neck, fisting my roots and pulling my forehead to his. “I’ll find a way to make do.”
I should push him off me, begin laying the much-needed groundwork of establishing the boundaries we require. But I don’t. Instead, I linger a moment longer, breathing in the scent of rich earth, sweat, and gasoline that sticks to his skin. Nick’s grip on my roots tightens, my mouth parting on a gasp as he angles his mouth toward mine.
“You need to get in the shower.”
He stills, resigning on a sigh and reluctantly releasing my hair. Slipping away to make his retreat, he reaches the base of the stairs, climbing about halfway up before pausing to glance back at me.
“Tell me he’s at least been better. He hasn’t pulled anything since…”
“No,” I answer honestly, quick to reassure him. “No, he hasn’t hit me since you took care of it.”
Nicky offers up a slow nod, his grip on the handrail seeming to loosen. “I gotta admit, I was a little shocked he let you come tonight. I figured he’d give you shit.”
Yeah, about that.
“He, uh… he doesn’t really know I’m here.” Nicky’s head tilts to the side, his arched brow emphasizing his inquisitive stare. “I was going to tell him. I mean, Caleb’s his best friend and he knows I’m coming, so obviously it’s not a secret. It’s just he told me yesterday he’d have to work late today, so I decided not to ask permission and just deal with it when I get home.”
“Bold move.” A mischievous smirk kisses his lips, though its short-lived appearance is too soon replaced by a darkening expression. “He ever puts hands on you again—”
“He won’t.”
“But if he does… you run straight here. To me. You hear me?”
I nervously nip at my bottom lip, acknowledging his demand with a subtle dip of my head.
“Say it, demon,” he commands, the deep bass he injects into his tone causing my quivering legs to clench with desire.
“I’ll run to you.”
