“I can still see you,” Nick said.
“What exactly did I say?”
“Enough to convince me of something.”
“What?” I asked impatiently. I was still hiding under the comforter, but I didn’t want him to see how red my cheeks were. I guessed burying myself under a blanket was arguably more embarrassing than blushing, but I wasn’t going to worry about that.
“I’m tired of pushing you away.”
I peeled the comforter back. Jesus. Now I really wanted to know what I’d said. Before last night, it had felt like Nick was using a cattle prod to urge me as far out of his life as possible. Now he was saying this?
Nick moved from the chair and sat on the bed beside me. He spent long enough gathering his thoughts and raking a hand through his dark hair that I couldn’t help admiring him. He was the kind of good looking most people could go a lifetime without ever seeing in person. It was the unquestionable kind—the sort of good looking that made complete strangers stare without worrying what anyone thought. It was like seeing a natural phenomenon, except this one had dreamy eyes with long eyelashes you could get lost in; full, playful lips; and an easy smirk that made me want to melt into a puddle.
Despite all that, I think I would’ve still been intrigued by him if he’d looked like a gargoyle. Every other guy I’d entertained interest in since Nick had felt like settling. Worse, it had felt empty. I had started to accept that it was silly and immature to think I deserved to find somebody who made me feel the way I’d felt back then. Except now I wasn’t so sure. He was sitting right here, and even if he wasn’t making it easy, I didn’t know if I’d forgive myself for not at least taking the chance.
“I’ve lied to myself for a long time,” Nick said finally. “About you. About how I felt.” He shook his head, eyes fixed on something outside the window. “I’ve made it into such a complicated mess in my head. It’s like some puzzle where I keep thinking I’m almost finished, then I realize the first pieces I placed were all wrong—that I need to wipe the board clean and start over. I just can’t—”
His face was so close that I had to lean forward only a few inches to find his lips with mine. It all happened in an instant. The buzzing of my thoughts was silenced the moment my mouth met his, like a window slamming shut on a noisy night. At first, he didn’t respond, and I had enough time to wonder if I’d made what would go down as the most embarrassing mistake of my life.
I pulled back from the kiss, eyes closed. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to show you that it didn’t have to be so complic—”
Nick’s hands swallowed me up, and his mouth was on mine again, hungrier this time. There was no air in my lungs, no time to think. All I could do was let myself get pulled along with his wave, to kiss him back and marvel at the silky warmth of his tongue against mine, at the way I could feel passion radiating between us like heat.
Before I knew what was happening, I was falling backward to my pillow, and Nick was propped above me. I couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t even think. Every train of thought went off the rails, like Nick’s presence was a tsunami-force event, demanding every available ounce of my focus.
“W-Wait,” I stammered between kisses.
Nick stopped, and the surprise I saw in his eyes told me he’d been feeling exactly as I’d been. Pulling back from his touch felt like waking from a pleasant dream only to remember you were staying in a dingy motel across from the fast-food chicken place with a neon red sign. Except all I would’ve needed to do to fall back into that dream was reach out. It would’ve taken only a single word. More. Please. It would’ve been so easy, but it had happened too fast.
“You’re right,” he said. He pushed himself off me and stood up. He shook his head slightly.
Someone knocked at his door.
“Room service,” called a voice with a heavy French accent.
Nick pointed at me and motioned for me to hide.
“Hide?” I mouthed.
He nodded quickly and made some face and expression I couldn’t figure out. I decided to take his word for it and rolled off the bed, slipping underneath.
I could see his shoes from where I was lying, so when he opened the door, I saw the expensive leather shoes of somebody who was definitely not room service step inside.
“Somehow, I knew,” Nick said.
“Whoa,” the man said. I immediately knew the voice. Cade. But I had no idea how he would’ve found his way here. “Is that a boner? You watching that cheap hotel porn again, or were you j—”
“Would you get your eyes off my dick, please?”
“I’d love to, but your dick is kind of demanding attention right now. I feel like it’s reaching out to me, like it wants me to—”
“Why are you here?”
“I was checking on you and that griefcase you like to carry around.”
“What?”
“Emotional baggage. Your griefcase. Don’t look at me like I’m crazy either. You know whoever decided to call it emotional baggage was missing a major opportunity.”
“I don’t have emotional baggage.”
“No? What about Miranda? I’d say the way you pine after her but keep denying yourself qualifies. You know she wants it as badly as you do. All you’d need to do is extend the olive branch.” Cade paused. “Well, or you could extend that. Either one would probably get the message across.”
“Could you stop looking at it?”
“I’m just impressed that it is still full mast. I mean, I’m starting to wonder if it’s me that arouses you. The thing is like a bloodhound that has the scent.”
“Trust me, it has nothing to do with you.”
Cade was quiet for a few seconds, then I saw his feet approaching the bed.
“What are you doing?” Nick asked.
“I didn’t make it where I am in life by being an idiot, Nick. Boners don’t just make themselves, and they don’t stick around that long unless . . .”
I was suddenly staring face-to-face with Cade, who had flopped down on his stomach beside the bed. “As I suspected. Ladies, gentlemen, and erection—we have the source of the arousal right here. Did anyone tell you it’s much comfier to sleep on top of the bed, Miranda?”
I awkwardly wiggled out from under the bed and stood up. “This isn’t what it looks like at all,” I said.
“Classic.” Cade was smiling between the two of us like a proud teacher. “Let me give you whippersnappers a piece of universal advice. When something isn’t what it looks like, that just means the people involved don’t understand what it actually is. Things always look like what they are. And this,” he said, motioning to the clearly visible bulge in Nick’s pants, “looks like two consenting adults who were getting ready to fulfill their biblical duty.”
I tried to avert my eyes from Nick’s pants, but I felt a devious little tug of temptation that made me want to look again. It was flattering to know a few kisses had him that excited, but it was also confusing. “Nick is my boss,” I said.
“Hey.” Cade held up his palms. “I’m not here to judge you two on your kinks. Nick can be your kitty cat, for all I care. All I’m saying is you two lovebirds don’t need to hide it from me. Think of me like your big brother, too, Miranda. I mean, I guess I will be once you two make this whole thing official, right?”