Page 16 of Any Port in a Storm

Why do I have to want him so much?

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, voice rougher than it was a moment ago.

I almost choke on my own saliva. “Right.”

He’s still looking at me like we’re both naked, so I jump up from the couch. “What should we do for dinner?”

“Well, I’d say I’d take you out as a thank you for letting me crash here, but I don’t suppose that’s an option.”

“Pizza? Venezia’s will deliver.”

He nods. “Yeah, sounds good. I think I have a coupon; let me grab my wallet.”

“Knowing that this may be our last meal definitely puts things in perspective,” Nick jokes an hour later, trying and failing to break a piece of particularly hard crust.

“I don’t think it’s going to be our last. But it may be the last time I order from Venezia’s.”

He frowns at his plate. “It’s definitely not as good as I remember.”

“To be fair, they may be dealing with the stress of everything in their own way.”

“By ‘their own way,’ do you mean ‘burning the pizza’?”

“You’ve always been quite the food critic.”

“And you,” he says with a lazy smile, “have always been far too comfortable eating a grilled cheese and calling it a day.”

“I’m perfectly satisfied with my culinary choices, thank you very much.” I toss the top half of my pizza back onto my dish. “But in this case, I think I’m going to call time of death. I don’t know how easy it’ll be to get in to see my dentist if I break a tooth.”

“Smart thinking.” He sets his plate down also, then grabs the pizza box and moves with a painful familiarity to wrap the leftovers in foil and put them away in my refrigerator.

“So, how’s work been going for you?” I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were, but I can at least do my part to make the next two weeks as pleasant as possible. Small talk seems like a solid start.

“Not bad,” he says over his shoulder. “I’ve been working overtime trying to get lesson plans prepared for the fall semester. The department chairs finally told me which lectures they’ll need me for, and I don’t want to save it all for summer.”

“That makes sense.” I lean back against the couch, stomach growling in betrayal. “Hey, are you still hungry?”

He chuckles. “I definitely am.”

“Want to grab some ice cream? It’s in the freezer.”

“Well, where else would it be?”

“Yes, Nicholas. You’re very clever.”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that either. What is with me tonight?

An image of Nick, flushed against me in my bed, flashes to the front of my mind.

“Oh, Nicholas. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Jesus,” he’d said, groaning against my throat.

I slam the door shut, stopping the memories in their tracks. I can’t do this. Not now.

Probably not ever again.

“Sorry,” I mumble, cheeks flaming.