Nicholas is just as relaxed. He lies flat on his back with his arm tucked behind his head. His hair is infused with body but not a mess. He stares at the ceiling. His chin is tilted upward, away from his body, as his chest moves up and down with each deep breath.
I have met my match. He wants me as much as I want him. We lust after each other, and yet, neither of us can give up the game. I will not beg and he will not give in until I do.
“So, are we actually ever going to do it?” I ask, teasing him.
“That’s up to you,” he says without moving a muscle.
“Oh, is it?”
“You ask me to, I comply and send you to the moon.”
“Or the next time, you can just not stop,” I suggest.
He turns to his side. His eyes focus on mine. After a bit, I’m the one who blinks first.
“So, there will be a next time?” he jokes.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” I say smugly.
But if we keep talking like this, I can’t be too sure that it won’t happen again really soon.
I’ve never thought of myself as a competitive person but Nicholas seems to bring out that side of me.
Especially when it comes to this. He had set up the rules. When I agreed, the rules made me feel safe.
But now, I feel anything but that. Every time I touch his arm, every time he brushes up against me, the bolt of electricity that surges through me makes me weak in the knees.
It’s almost as if my body aches for his and there’s nothing I can do to keep that sensation at bay.
I lie back and look up at the ceiling tiles, which have thick crown molding around each one.
I’ve never seen anything like this except in magazines. As much as I want to keep them out, Owen’s warnings about Nicholas and his true identity creep back in. He lied to me about not knowing my brother, and Owen wouldn’t have any reason to lie.
But does knowing that change anything about our deal? I’d suspected that he had a past, with his skills, it would’ve been ignorant not to.
But what about the people that he has supposedly killed. Did he do it or are those just rumors?
“I have to go back to Boston,” I say definitively.
Nicholas doesn’t reply.
“I have to testify on my brother’s behalf. He’s all I have.”
Again, Nicholas doesn’t reply.
“If I don’t go and he doesn’t get out, I will never forgive myself.”
He doesn’t say a word.
“Are you listening to me?” I ask.
“I can’t let you go,” he says after a moment. There’s that possessiveness rearing its ugly head.
“I don’t need your permission,” I remind him.
“You do, if you want to get paid. If you want to stick to the terms of our arrangement.”
I sit up.
I feel tears of frustration and anger welling up in my eyes.
I had just quit my job.
The money he’s offering me is more money than I will ever make in a lifetime. But is he really going to make me choose between all of that and my brother?
“I don’t understand why you’re making this so difficult. I can fly there and fly back right away. I will only stay there for the hearing.”
Nicholas says nothing. His face is expressionless and empty. He continues to lie on his back staring at the ceiling. I touch his arm to try to shake him out of his trance, but again he doesn’t respond.
“Why? Why can’t I go? Our arrangement will remain the same. This is just a two day trip on a personal matter.”
“You don’t have the option to take personal days,” Nicholas says slowly. “This isn’t a normal job. If it were, then you would be paid normal money.”
I get off the bed and take the sheet with me.
It slides off his naked body but he remains motionless. The muscles in his stomach move up and down with each breath. His legs lay slightly apart, relaxed.
His calmness makes me even more agitated. When it reaches a boiling point, I grab my pillow and toss it in his direction.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demand to know. “Why are you such a robot?”
Nicholas turns his head only slightly in my direction.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I’m going to Boston,” I say.
“Fine. Go.”
He rises out of the bed and pulls on his trousers.
“What does that mean?” I ask, as he buckles the belt.
“It means we’re done,” he says. “I will buy you your ticket home and you will never hear from me again.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I don’t need you,” he says harshly. His words are like a knife through my heart. My body trembles.
“But what about…the offer? Why did you even ask me here?”
He puts on his shirt. His hands are slow and meticulous, pushing every button through its designated loop.
“I thought we could help each other out,” he says, finally meeting my eyes. “I thought we could have fun doing it. But I see now that you were never committed to me.”
Still grasping onto my sheet, I walk up to him and grab him by his shoulders.
“I am committed. To you. To this deal. I just need a day. He’s my brother and he has been in prison for years. This is his chance and if there’s anything I can do to help him get parole…I have to do it.”
“If it means giving up a million dollars?” Nicholas challenges me.
“I will do everything you want. Why do I have to?” I plead.
“Because I said so,” he says.
21
When I have to make a choice…
Hot tears start to stream down my face. I can barely see a thing through them. Nicholas doesn’t put his arm around me. He doesn’t comfort me in any way. The man that created so much heat inside of me now fills me with nothing but ice.
How could he do this?
Who is he?
Why is he doing this?
What is the big deal with me taking this short trip? Why is he being so unreasonable? The questions keep coming but the answers stay away.
“You have to make a choice, Olive,” Nicholas says, walking up to me. He touches my chin and pulls it up to his eyes. “It’s either Owen or me.”
“Don’t you see how ridiculous this is?” I ask. “I don’t need to make a choice, you are making me. Why? Why are you being so…unreasonable?”
“I have my reasons,” Nicholas says.
“Please,” I beg. “You wanted me to plead, you wanted me to demean myself, to beg. I’m begging you now.”
“I never wanted you to do anything you didn’t want to do,” he corrects me. “It’s offensive that you think I wanted you to demean yourself.”
I don’t say a word.
Even though he is trying to remain calm, I see anger building up within him. I have finally gotten through.
He takes a deep breath.
His icy demeanor returns.
He only gave me a glimpse, but now it’s gone.
He walks toward the door. I run after him and trip over my feet. I let go of the sheet that’s wrapped around me but it’s too late. The fabric is taut and it pulls me down to the floor.