He notices it almost instantly. Of course he does, sometimes I wonder if anything passes by that guy. He looks around, his hands absentmindedly rubbing my arms.
“C’mon,” he says, giving me a soft squeeze. “Let’s go upstairs, it’s freezing here. You’ll catch something.”
Getting to his feet, Nixon extends his hand to help me up. Intertwining our fingers, he grabs my bag with his free hand and leads me toward the stairs.
In silence, we climb back up. The house is as quiet as it was when we got here. Bypassing the living room, Nixon goes straight for the stairs, but I stop in my tracks. He looks over his shoulder at me expectedly.
“What?”
I look at the dark stairwell and then back at him. His eyes are glued to my mouth, and my throat goes dry. “I… I should probably go home.”
Nixon looks confused for a moment, but then something else passes over his face. Regret, maybe? His fingers tighten around mine in a deathly grip.
“Or you could stay,” he says slowly.
I nibble at my lip, unsure of what to do. Afraid of what this all might mean.
I’m emotionally drained, and following Nixon up to his room has “bad decision” written all over it.
I should go home. It shouldn’t even be a question of whether I’ll do it. I should turn around right this instant and leave.
Nixon’s soft gaze is boring into me, peeling away layer after layer of my defenses and making me lower my guard.
Stay, that one word written all over his face. Stay.
“Nixon, we can’t…” I try to resist it, resist him, although a part of me knows it’s futile. A part of me isn’t ready to say goodbye.
“Nobody is here.” Nixon tips his head back, looking at the ceiling. “Well, Maddox probably is, but he barely comes out of his room on a good day.”
“What about the others?”
I haven’t even thought about it up until now, but if Callie or Hayden come and find me here, with Nixon, they won’t just let it go. They’ll ask questions I’m not even sure I have an answer to, not that I’d want to share even if I did. No, that’s definitely out of…
“Zane has an away game, and Hayden and Callie have gone to visit his grandma.”
Gone. I want to sigh in relief. They’re gone.
This silence stretches so long it becomes uncomfortable. I close my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts. They’re all over the place. Just another reason why this is such a bad idea.
“If you don’t want…”
“No.” The word is out before I can stop it.
My heart kicks up a notch, thumping wildly in my chest. Blinking my eyes open, I find Nixon looking at me, unsure and weary.
“I’ll…” I lick my lips. “I’ll stay.”
The tension in the air seems to intensify with every second that ticks by. Finally he nods, and without another word he pulls me to the stairs.
The second floor is as quiet as the rest of the house. Nixon doesn’t even bother turning on the lights as he leads me into his room.
“You’re freezing,” he says without even looking at me. But he’s right. The cold has set into my muscles, making me tremble. “You should take a shower. Warm up.”
“Aren’t you cold too?”
Nixon stops and looks at me, his brows raised. “Are you inviting me for a shower?”
“What if I am?”
My heart is in my throat as I wait for him to say something. I’m not sure if I want him to agree or give me a pat on the back as he sends me off. This is completely uncharted territory.
I never had time for guys in the past. They were a welcome nuisance every once in a while, but overall my sole focus was on staying on top of my game and getting into college.
Instead of having a boyfriend who would want my attention, I always looked for guys who were the same as me, too busy to have a steady girlfriend, but wanted a release every once in a while and somebody to accompany them to school events if necessary. In high school, there was this one guy that I had an on and off thing with when it suited us. We broke it off on prom night and parted amicably. Since I got to college there has been a guy or two, but nothing even close to becoming serious. They have all been… safe.
There is nothing safe about being with Nixon Cole.
He contradicts everything I believe in, stands for everything I hate, but being with him… I’ve never felt more alive or understood.
I extend my hand toward him. A silent offering.
He looks at it like it’s the strangest thing he’s ever seen. Then, slowly, oh so slowly, he puts his hand in mine and pulls me to him.
“What happened to just once?”
With my free hand, I reach for his face, my fingers gliding over his skin and memorizing every line of his face.
I trace the outline of his lower lip, a tingling sensation spreading through my arm. He sucks in a breath, his mouth parting slightly.
“You happened.”
I’m not sure how else to explain it to him. I can’t even explain it to myself.
But my answer seems to satisfy him because he pulls me to the door and out into the hallway. There is a closet there where he stops, taking two towels out of it, and then he leads me down the hallway to the bathroom.
The same one where I overheard his conversation with Jade.
Is it possible that it’s been barely a few weeks since then? It seems like so much longer.
Flicking the switch, he pushes me inside, closing and locking the door after us.
When I turn to him, I find his heated stare on me. “You can still change your mind.”
My hand sliding under the hem of his shirt and brushing against his flat abs is my only answer. I slowly pull the shirt up and over his head, enjoying his hot skin under my palms.
We undress each other slowly, discarding a piece of clothing at a time until we’re both standing naked.
Nixon turns on the shower, and when the water is warm, we step inside. It’s a tight fit, but neither of us complains as we’re pressed close together.
I hiss softly at the first contact of the hot water on my skin. Goosebumps rise on my arms at the difference in temperature, but I welcome the burn.
Nixon picks up shampoo off the shelf and pours some on his palms. I try to reach for it, but he pulls it back. “Let me.”
So I do. Turning my back to him, I let him wash my hair and my body. His hands slide over me, his touch slow and gentle as he washes every inch of me.
A soft moan rips out of my throat as his hand cups my breast, fingers brushing over my puckered nipple and down my stomach.
I cover his hand with mine as the tips of his fingers reach my mound, my whole body leaning back into his strong chest. I can feel his hard erection pressed against my lower back, hot and heavy.
“My turn,” I pant, turning around.
Nixon nods his agreement and hands me shampoo. It smells like pines and just a hint of citrus. His scent. Now rubbed all over my skin. My stomach clenches as heat spreads through my core. A heat that has nothing to do with the hot water and steam filling the room, but with this guy standing in front of me.
I squeeze some body wash onto my hands and rub them together before placing them on his slick skin. My hands roam over his body, rubbing every inch of his flesh. Wide shoulders, defined pecs, narrow waist, and every ridge of his stomach.