“I need a shower before bed, though. We can take turns,” he added.
I insisted on letting Nick shower first. I sat on the edge of his bed while I listened to the running water and the occasional splashing as he cleaned himself. I tried not to dwell too long on the image of his naked, powerful body and his hands running soapy water across his muscled torso. I didn’t know why it felt like I was having so much trouble with the idea of having sex with Nick. It felt like I was putting the idea on some pedestal, as if the act was going to bind us together permanently and mean we’d wind up married.
It was only a few weeks ago that I broke off my relationship with Robbie because I felt like it was heading downhill toward marriage, white picket fences, and kids. The thought of that with Robbie had scared the living crap out of me. It went against everything I thought I’d wanted.
So why wasn’t the idea of the same things with Nick as terrifying? I didn’t know, but I knew I needed to wait—at least a little longer. I needed to understand what the hell was going on in my head before I risked getting whisked away on his wave. Because I made no mistake about it. Nick was very much like an impossibly strong, slow-moving wave. I could walk away from it, maybe forever, but I’d feel it looming behind me, just like I had for the last seven years. Only now I’d turned and put my hand in the waters. I’d felt the irresistible tug of its power, and I knew that all it would take was one moment of surrender. I just had to stop running from it, and it would swallow me up. There was a mysterious allure in the idea of getting absorbed into that wave, but it wasn’t something to take lightly. I needed to be sure. Absolutely sure.
I remembered the texts when I glanced over at my purse. I picked my phone out and checked Iris’s and Kira’s texts first.
Iris: Cade told me everything. OMG!!! I need details. Measurements. The play by play. Gimme Gimme!
I grinned. She was such an idiot sometimes. Most times, actually. I guessed that was what made her and Cade so perfect for each other.
Kira: Iris told me you and Nick “porked”? Does that mean what I think it means? Why am I having to hear about this from Iris and not from you? Call me soon! I don’t care what time it is!!!
I squinted at the phone. I had no idea what porking was, either, but based on Iris’s text, she was assuming I had already slept with Nick.
My finger hovered over the texts from Robbie. Part of me wanted to just hit “Delete Conversation.” Curiosity got the better of me, though, so I opened the text.
Robbie: I’m texting you from my corner office in LA. I got that promotion we were always hoping I’d land. Now the West Coast branch of Lockhart and Taylor is completely in the hands of yours truly. I’ve got a vice president position open and waiting for you. This is way more your speed than whatever you’re doing with that silly dog company. Come to LA. There are other branches. You do a good job and one can be yours, next.
I sighed. I felt a sense of overwhelming relief after reading the first text. If I were still the same person I’d been just a couple of weeks ago, I don’t think I would’ve cared that accepting his offer would mean working under my ex. I would’ve jumped at the chance for a vice president position with opportunities to work toward owning my own branch. That sounded as close to my dream as anything I would’ve imagined. But I felt nothing. No temptation. No draw.
I was happy where I was. I scrolled down to read the second text, which had come about four hours after the first.
Robbie: Ignoring me? That’s cute. I forgot to ask what you thought of Max? Did you wonder why he chose to talk to you, of all people? Or how he knew which flight you’d be getting off of? Just some food for thought as you consider my offer.
What the hell was that supposed to mean? I tossed my phone onto the bed with an annoyed groan.
Then the door to the bathroom opened. I almost expected Nick to come out shirtless and clad only in a towel, but I was relieved to see he was already wearing black pajama bottoms and a tight-fitting gray shirt. Admittedly, it wasn’t a whole lot less sexy than if he’d just come out topless.
“All yours,” he said.
“Thanks,” I stood up and did a goofy side-stepping walk to circle wide around him. I knew I probably smelled horrible after our trek through the woods, and I didn’t want him to notice.
I walked into the bathroom and then popped my head back out of the door. “Uh, hey. I kind of forgot I need a change of clothes.”
“I’ll get them for you. Where’s your key?”
I thought about declining, but the idea of him picking an outfit for me—and picking my underwear—sent a dirty tingle of heat through me. “In my purse. The small inside pocket.”
Nick picked it up and headed out toward my room.
I closed the door and took a look at myself in the mirror. I was a mess. My hair was wild, my makeup had almost all been sweated away, and I had several ugly, irritated spots on my skin from where plants had scratched me. Despite my looking like I’d been given a makeover by a team of half-blind senile squirrels, Nick had still been looking at me like he could barely keep his hands to himself. Then again, after everything he’d seen me go through, from my candy binges to getting sloppy drunk, I was starting to see the truth about Nick.
He didn’t care about my reputation or any of the show I put on for everyone else. Nick cared about me. The real me. Little by little, Nick was helping me see how good it felt to let go of the pressure to be perfect all the time.
With a little smile, I stripped out of my clothes and turned the shower on.
The hot water felt amazing, but my mind wouldn’t leave Nick. I kept picturing how he’d looked at me, how he’d tasted, and I couldn’t keep from imagining what he must be thinking. I worried most that I seemed like a tease. I’d been the one to kiss him on the bed, and now it probably felt like I was dangling that temptation in front of his face.
Once I finished up in the shower, I wrapped a towel around myself and stuck my head out the door just enough to look for him. “Did you find them?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Nick said. He walked right up to the door and handed me a little pile of my clothes. “I wasn’t sure what you prefer to sleep in, but I did my best. I also let Thug out for a quick walk and brought him to my room for the night too.”
“Oh, wow. I’m glad you remembered him. Thanks,” I said. Once I closed the door, I saw Nick had decided to pick out what probably seemed like my most casual top—a faded-blue tank top that I had to tie in the back to keep from sliding off my shoulders. He’d grabbed a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants, and . . .
I laughed softly. A lacy red thong with a matching bra. Nick, you pervert.
I thought about calling him on his choice, but the idea of him looking through my underwear and choosing this was oddly hot. I slipped into my clothes and stepped back into the hotel room. Nick was already sitting under the comforter on one side of the bed, with his phone in his lap.
“Hey,” I said. “Do you mind if I borrow one of your shirts to sleep in? The knot on the back of this one isn’t really comfortable to sleep on.”
Nick dug out a white T-shirt from his suitcase. “How’s that?” he asked.
I switched to his shirt in the bathroom and sneaked a few deep sniffs of the material. It smelled faintly like him, and I found the scent to be incredibly comforting.