Go to sleep? I wasn’t leaving?
He must have picked up on my thoughts. “Is that okay? If you want to head home, I can call a car. It’s no big deal.”
“No, no. I’ll stay. Please.”
Smiling, he dragged me towards the bathroom.
I woke to my alarm in the morning, but it somehow turned off by itself before I had a chance to reach for it. I drifted back to sleep, then woke again when I felt movement. Stretching, I tried to remember what day it was, and as I rolled to look out the window, I froze.
The sight in front of me jump-started my brain quicker than a barrel of coffee. Nick was naked, facing out the window so the light framed what could only be described as sweet, honey-coloured perfection. The early morning sun bounced off his messy blonde hair, and a light glow reflected around his silhouette. Last night came back to me in a rush, right as he glanced back at me over his shoulder. When he saw I was awake, he smiled lazily and leaned over to kiss my forehead.
I tilted my face up in a silent request for more, but he only gave me one more quick peck and stood back up. “I’m so sorry my phone woke you up. I have to get to work. I have some things I need to get done this morning.”
I rolled away from the window so he couldn’t see any disappointment as I stood to gather my clothes. I was hoping for a lazy morning in bed. But given last night was even more than I had hoped for, I couldn’t complain too much. “No worries. I had a great time last night. Did you want me to make you a coffee to take with you? I’ve only got to grab my shoes, and I’m right to go.”
Nick walked around the edge of the bed and reached out slowly, as if he expected me to pull away, and gently ran his hand along my cheek. “No, I want you to listen to me, rather than assuming I’m kicking you out.”
My eyes darted down to the bed. “Sorry, I just...” I mumbled, trailing off.
He reached up on his toes to kiss me on the forehead and whispered, “Now, you are going to go back to sleep because you have not been sleeping anywhere near enough. You are going to dream about me and what you want to do together later today when I finish work. Then you are going to spend the morning, eating, resting, and eventually, when you are properly awake later, you are going to call me so that I can listen to your voice whilst I try to explain the concept of futureproofing his company to a seventy-year-old Irishman.”
Without any conscious thought, my body responded automatically to the order coming in his sweet melting voice, and I was nodding and slipping my jeans back off. I was asleep before he closed the front door.
Hours later, when I woke again, I laid there replaying the previous night in my head and enjoying the warmth of his bed. I rolled away from the closed window blinds, and after a quick trip to the bathroom, I found my jeans and shirt neatly folded on a chair in Nick's room. I pulled the jeans on and wandered down the hall in search of tea. All of the tea. When I got to the end of the hall and walked into the living area, I stopped.
Holy. Fucking. Balls.
The whole opposite wall was glass. And beyond the large balcony was the most stunning vista I had ever seen: a completely uninterrupted view across Sydney Harbour. It almost looked fake. So much so I had to open the doors and head outside onto the balcony to check. The cold morning air hit my chest, and I shivered, but I couldn’t be bothered going back to get my shirt. I pulled my phone out and took a photo and sent it to Tim with the text, I think I’m in heaven. Then I called Nick. He picked up, sounding flustered. “Ky, Is everything okay?”
Then I realized he was probably busy at work. “Ahh, sorry, everything is fine. You’re probably busy. I didn’t think.”
That seemed to calm him. “No, no, it's okay. I’m working, but I can talk too. I just didn’t expect to hear from you until later.”
“Umm, I’m standing on your balcony. Jesus Herbert fucking Christ, have you seen this view? Duh! Of course you’ve seen this view—you live here. Why is this the first time I’ve seen this view, is the question. This is mind-blowing.”
He didn’t answer.
“Nick?”
“Sorry, just picturing you on my balcony. I like the idea of you in my space. I’m glad you’re enjoying the view. There should be fruit in the fridge for breakfast, but probably not much else. I should have thought of that. I’ll get something delivered—what do you feel like?”
I laughed. “No, no. I’m more than capable of getting myself some food. I really didn’t mean to interrupt. I was so amazed I wanted to share it with you.”
“Thank you. You are incredibly sweet, you know?” He sounded like he was smiling.
“Don’t think too highly of me. Sharing it with you was actually my second thought. I texted Tim first to gloat.”
Thankfully, that made him laugh.
Chapter Eleven
When I walked into BrewHaHa on Thursday, I scanned the tables. Tim was flicking through his phone. He glanced up and smiled in greeting, and I signalled to the counter to let him know I was going to order for us. Once we were sitting and sipping our drinks, Tim started rattling off all his ideas for where to take Mum for her birthday and what we could do as a family. We had been going back and forth on this for so long, it was ridiculous. I thought we had settled on a quiet dinner at the Italian place up the road from them, but now Tim was second-guessing—or more like fifth-guessing at this point—if that was fancy enough.
“She deserves to be spoiled. I don’t want it to be a nothing night. She deserves… well, everything. I want to take her away for a few days too. What do you think?. I left a message with her boss about getting the week off, so we’ll see how that goes.”
And that right there is why I loved Tim. He was an amazing stepdad and a great guy, but the way he loved Mum meant everything to me. We agreed to brainstorm something fancier for dinner. We chatted about themes and gifts but still couldn’t decide.
Then the conversation moved to me. He asked me about work, which was fine. He asked about some of my friends, who were fine. He asked about Alex, who was fine. He asked about Nick, who was…
Tim chuckled. “Well, that’s something.”
“Huh?”
“You like him.”
“Yeah,” I grumbled into my hot chocolate, embarrassed, “maybe.”
Tim answering smile was sincere. “I’m glad. You look happy when you talk about him—well, when you stare at your drink smiling like a loon.”
“He…” I shook my head, not sure how to start.
“He what?” Tim prompted gently.
“You know that feeling when you are tired and sore, and you don’t even realise how much until you sit in a spa, and it is warm and relaxing and so fucking comfortable that you realise you hadn’t even known how tired you were before you experienced how good it could feel?”
Tim looked surprised.
“Sorry, I’m not great with explaining things like this.”
Tim sipped his coffee. “No. I totally got it. I’m just surprised. I knew you liked him, and I’m really, really glad you are doing something fun outside of work. But that sounded like… more. Is it serious?”
I thought about it before answering. “I’m not sure. I guess it is for me. But I don’t know. We’re exclusive, which is a huge step for him. I don’t think he’s ever even considered an exclusive relationship before, but he says all the right things, and I honestly think he means it, but…”