“No way.”
Realistically, he is much stronger than me and could pull out of my grasp without much effort, but he’s a good sport so he plays along.
“Yasmin,” Nixon growls softly, but his eyes twinkle in amusement.
“Nixon,” I say in the same tone, grazing my teeth over my lower lip.
His eyes zero in on my mouth, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Why are you such a pain in my ass?”
“Touché. Now be a good boy, and sit your ass down.”
“I hate you.”
“The feeling is mutual, buddy.” I let go of his hands and pat the seat next to me. “Sit.”
He glares at me, but does as I said. “I’m not a dog.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“I’ll give you…” Nixon laughs and wraps his arms around me, his fingers tangling in my hair, making a mess of it.
“Nixon,” I protest weakly, chuckling.
“Not so feisty now, are you?”
I try to wrestle out of his hold, but he’s too strong. “Nixon, I swear if you don’t let go, I’ll…”
Puffing out a strand of my hair out of my eyes, I find Helen watching us, a smile tilting her lips. The pain in her eyes is still there, but the tension that was filling the room when I got here has lessened. At least for now.
“You’ll what?” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin.
The goosebumps rise at the back of my neck. “I’ll kick you in the balls.”
From the corner of my eyes, I can see him grimace, but he doesn’t let go. “Ouch, you ruthless woman.”
“I come bearing baby photos!” Jade announces as she comes back to the room, interrupting our discussion.
Nixon groans loudly. His grip loosens just a little bit, and I use this moment to elbow him in the gut. “Don’t be a party pooper.”
He finally lets go, and I go to sit next to Helen, who is holding the albums.
“Let’s see what we have here.” Helen opens the first book, her frail fingers slowly working the pages. “Oh, look, here’s the photo from the hospital.”
For all his protests, Nixon joins us too. Sitting on the armrest next to me, he leans over my shoulder to take a peek at the photo. “I can definitely see the resemblance,” I tease, looking at him over my shoulder.
“I really don’t like you right now,” he mutters, but there is a slight twitch to his lip. At the same time, his hand slides over my waist, pulling me closer. My heart skips a beat as his hard chest presses against my back. His eyes land on my lips, staying there for a long moment before he lifts them back up.
“Thank you,” he mouths so only I can hear it, a smile spreading over his lips.
All the uncertainty somehow feels worth it, if only for this moment. Because if only for a second, the darkness that has been clinging to him seems to have pulled back. But at the same time, I know I’m screwed because I might have unintentionally, in the process, started to fall for Nixon Cole.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
NIXON
I tighten my hold on Yasmin’s middle, pulling her flush against my chest. I’m not sure how we got to this point. I can’t pinpoint the moment where touching her became as easy as breathing, but I don’t want to question it.
Yasmin is my calm.
My sanctuary.
My anchor.
When she’s in my arms, all the other things fall back, and I can finally take a moment to breathe, to think. I’m not ready to lose that.
Looking down, I see the play of dark and light flash over Yasmin’s features. Her eyes are zeroed in on the screen where the final minutes of Dirty Dancing, Mom’s favorite movie, are playing out.
Mom, on the other hand, is softly snoring on the armchair next to us. She fell asleep somewhere halfway through the movie, after barely touching her dinner. It’s been a long day, full of excitement, and I was surprised she made it even this far; then again, something about Yasmin seemed to bring up her spirits. She talked more and generally seemed more animated, if only a little bit.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my lips brushing against her earlobe. I’m so close I can see the hairs at the nape of her neck prickle at my nearness.
Yasmin inhales sharply and slowly turns to look at me over her shoulder. The smell of cinnamon and honey surrounds me like a warm cocoon I don’t want to leave.
“You already said that,” she whispers back.
“It’s worth repeating. You didn’t have to come. When we talked…” I shake my head. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come.”
She observes me for a long moment. “I didn’t come because you asked me to.”
“Then, why did you?” The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it. But it’s out there, and there is no pushing it back. And a part of me, an even bigger part than I’d like to admit, wants to hear her answer. I have no right to demand anything of her, but I can’t help but want more than I can have.
Her.
I want her.
My calm in the middle of the storm.
The anchor that’s holding me together when I think I’ll go mad.
“Because I wanted to,” she confesses quietly, those dark eyes falling to my lips for a split second before they meet mine. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes.”
Yes, it is. After everything that has happened, everything that I accused her of, how can she forgive me so easily?
Then again, Yasmin has the biggest heart known to man, so is it really that surprising?
“Well, your mother is a hard woman not to fall for, Nixon Cole.”
Just her? The question comes out of nowhere, leaving me stupefied for a moment. But looking at her eyes, I know it’s true. Something about Yasmin has drawn me to her from the very moment we met, and it only intensified in the last few weeks.
“The feeling is mutual.”
“You think?” She turns her head to look at Mom, a soft smile curling her lips. “She’s an amazing woman. I’m sad that I didn’t get to meet her before.”
There is that word again. Before. A turning point that will mark our lives forever.
“I know it.”
Yasmin must feel my restlessness because her hand covers mine, fingers intertwining tightly. She doesn’t force me to talk it out; instead, we sit there in silence until the credits start to roll.
“I should get her to bed.”
Yasmin moves from her position so I can get up. My whole body is stiff from sitting in the same position for hours, so I stretch my arms above my head to relax my muscles before going to Mom’s side.
“Are you going to wake her?” Yasmin whispers.
I shake my head no slowly leaning down so I don’t disturb Mom’s sleep; I wrap my arms around her and pull her to my chest. She’s lost so much weight she’s as light as a feather. Her eyes blink open, the blue-gray of her irises hazy from sleep and pain meds.
“Shh…” I whisper as Yasmin rearranges the blankets that cover her body. “Off to bed you go.”
Mom nods slightly, leaning her head against my shoulder, and I take her down the hallway to her new room.
It was getting harder and harder for her to climb upstairs, and no matter how frail she became, both nurses and Jade still struggled with helping her, so we converted one of the guest rooms into her room.