Page 90 of Any Port in a Storm

“Were you going to use me for my body and then sneak out before I woke up?”

“You caught me,” I joke. I hustle to the kitchen, which truthfully isn’t where I’d been headed.

I don’t know where I’d been headed, actually. I enjoyed everything about last night, but we’d agreed to talk things through later, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Not because I don’t know how I feel, but because I’m still trying to formulate my thoughts. After an eternity of this, I want to give our clarifying conversation the eloquence it deserves.

All things considered, getting up felt like the right move.

Racking my brain for what I want to say to Nick, I start the coffee. It hits me that I should have been helping with this all along. That I’ve been taking him for granted.

Guilt stirs low in my gut.

“Thanks for making the coffee every morning, by the way,” I say over my shoulder. “I’ll try to help more.”

“Eh, it’s okay. It’s the least I can do, really.”

“Well, it’s still sweet of you.”

He grins. “If you feel that guilty about it, I can offer a few…repayment strategies.”

“Funny.”

His face slips into a more serious mask. “Should we talk about last night?”

“Well,” I say, walking back to sit beside him on the couch. “I liked it.”

“I liked it too,” he begins, halfway between a smile and a frown. “But I think maybe we should talk.”

He’s right; I know he is. But I’m not sure what’s next for me, and having two nebulous, life-changing decisions hanging over my head is making me feel like I’m going to implode. I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to find a job nearby; if being together will be remotely feasible.

“I have a lecture to prep,” I offer apologetically. “Could we…could we maybe table this until tonight?” That should give me enough time to figure out what I want to say, but also be soon enough to avoid offending him or sending the message that I’m not all in.

I see the hurt flash across his face. “Okay.”

“Is it?”

“It’s fine.” He looks down, busies himself with slipping his pants back on.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” I start. “I just have a busy day, and⁠—”

“Laurel,” he cuts me off. “It’s fine. We’ll talk later.”

“It’s obvious you’re upset.”

“It just seems like…if this doesn’t feel straightforward for you…” He shakes his head. “Maybe we aren’t on the same page.”

“Nick—”

“No, let’s take the day.” He grabs his watch off the table and clips it around his wrist. “I’m going to go outside to call my mom. She asked me to give her a ring.”

“Okay,” I whisper. Joy sinks like a lead balloon as I watch him walk away.

“Want to make tacos tonight?” He stops at the balcony door and shoots me a soft smile.

“Sure,” I agree, forcing myself to return the expression, despite the way my insides are a mess of grief and terror that I’ve once again ruined things between us. “That sounds perfect.”

After my first lecture, I come out for more coffee, only to find Nick slumped over the dining room table, his head in his hands.

“Hey,” I say, sliding into the chair next to him. “What’s wrong?”