Light filtered through the white curtains, soaking Daisy in early morning sun and warmth. She felt a lot better than she probably deserved. She didn’t remember much from last night, but when she opened her eyes to the familiar place, she knew exactly where she was. Nick’s bed.
She turned over, afraid to find him there, but only because if they’d finally had sex, she wanted to remember every detail. Luckily, the other side of the bed was cold and the comforter was still securely tucked in place.
She sat up and looked around the room. It was like waking up in the past. His room was exactly how she remembered it, right down to the Mumford and Sons poster above his desk.
She kicked off the blanket and looked down at the oversized t-shirt she was wearing. Her clothes were draped over his desk chair. She walked out into the hallway, following it to the living room.
“Hello?” she said only to be greeted with silence. “Nick?”
A folded blanket and a pillow sat on the couch. He could have put her in any of the bedrooms in the house or even made her sleep on the couch, yet he gave her his room and slept on the couch himself.
Guilt crept up her throat, but she ignored it. That was his choice, she told herself. She called his name again, and when he didn’t answer she went back to his room, grabbed her clothes, and went to take a shower. It’s not like she could go anywhere without knowing where her keys were.
She found an unopened toothbrush on the bathroom counter. She shook her head at how typical this was of Nick. He was always ten steps ahead of everyone. She took a quick shower, pulled her clothes back on and brushed her teeth.
She stepped out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair when she heard noise in the kitchen. She followed the noise and came to a halt at Nick pulling off his shirt. Words stuck in her throat, no matter how hard she tried to force them out.
He was like a piece of art, all hard lines and perfect angles.
“Hey,” he said when he noticed her standing there. “Spilled orange juice.”
She forced her mouth to move and finally managed a response. “Hi. I showered. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I left you a toothbrush,” he said.
“I found it.”
“Good.”
Her eyes kept going back to his chest and the tiny hairs that made a clear path down into his jeans.
He wet a towel and dabbed at the stain on his shirt. “How you feeling?”
“Okay I guess.” She motioned to his chest. “Can you put a shirt on?”
He smirked. “Enjoying the view too much?”
“No. It’s just a chest,” she lied, trying to act as if seeing his sculpted muscles didn’t affect her. “I’ve seen hundreds of them in Central Park, and trust me, yours is nothing special. I just thought you’d be more comfortable.”
“Really? Because if you ask me, you’re a bit flustered.”
“Am not.”
“Really?” he asked, stepping toward her.
She ignored her heart slamming against her chest, the way her breaths were coming faster and shorter. “Really.”
He ran a finger across the delicate curve of her cheek, and she sucked in surprised breath. Goosebumps scattered down her neck and spine.
“So this blush is just a coincidence?”
“It’s warm in here.” She spun away from him, her wet curls sticking to her face. She spotted a bag on the counter, and noticed the scent of food in the air. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. “What’s that?” She pointed to the bag on the counter and made her way over to it.
“A little fast food breakfast and an orange juice.”
Greasy food had always been her hangover cure. She thought it was the miracle elixir; the only problem was the nearest fast food place to Red Maple Falls was a good thirty minutes away.
She stared at the bag on the counter then back to Nick. “You went all the way there for me?”
“Hangovers are no fun, and since you have to be functioning by tonight for Sunday night dinner, you know since your family will…” His words broke off as if he didn’t believe the excuse that he was providing. He started again. “I know how you like greasy food when you’re hungover, and with the amount you drank last night I assumed you would be. I also bought you water and blue Gatorade since that’s the only one you like.”
He always did this. She messed up and he cleaned up after her.
She got drunk and interrupted his night by having to drive her home yet he didn’t complain. When she couldn’t find her house key, he could have left her out in the cold, called one of her siblings to come get her, but he didn’t. He brought her home, gave her a shirt to sleep in and gave up his bed for her. He left her a damn toothbrush on the sink and drove thirty minutes out of town to get her hangover food because he knew greasy food was her go to. He never once berated her for making poor decisions. For getting drunk without having a way home. For losing her damn house key. For sneaking out in the middle of the night and never looking back.
She left him, and it might’ve been six years ago, but the guilt still consumed her. It grabbed hold of her, pulling her under, over and over, and making her feel like the worst person to ever exist. She understood when he was mean to her, she deserved it. But this. She didn’t deserve this.
“There’s plates in the cabinet,” he said.
“Just stop!” she yelled.
His head flinched back slightly at the force of her words. “Stop what?”
“Stop being so nice to me. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of this. I left and I didn’t look back. I just left you…” Tears built in her eyes as the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. “I left you and now I know why.”
He moved then thought better of it and stopped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then why? Tell me, Daze, because I have been trying to figure it out for years.”
She blinked up meeting his familiar eyes that were filled with so many questions. She did that to him and now it was time she gave him the truth.
“Because if I looked back, I never would’ve left you. So I didn’t look back. Now all I do is look back. Back to graduation night when you proposed and I didn’t give you an answer. I wonder what my life would be like if I said yes because that bullshit I told you at The Happy Apple…that never would’ve been us.” She took a deep breath and swallowed down the hot lump in her throat. “I look back to all those nights we spent in the woods, looking up at the stars. All the times you held me and how after we made love for the first time, I never wanted to let you go. How you wrapped me in your arms and ran your fingers up and down my back. I can still feel your lips on my forehead and hear the beat of your heart. Whenever I’m scared, it’s still your voice in my head telling me not to be. Telling me I’m strong and brave and there’s nothing I can’t do. I left you, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been with me. You have been with me every time I stepped on stage, every time I got a rejection, and every time I wanted to give up. You were there in my head telling me to keep going.”
“Daze.” He reached out to her, but she stepped away from him. She couldn’t stop now, not when the truth was finally coming out. She could feel the weight lifting off her shoulders with each confession.
She waved her hand at him. “The reason I got so mad at you after our kiss... It’s not because I hate you. It’s because I hate myself for letting you go.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she felt herself break through the years of regret. “And I don’t want to hurt you again.”
She closed her eyes and when she blinked them open, Nick was in front of her, eyes dark and hungry, his jaw tight and tense.
His hands cupped her face, a million fireworks exploded inside of her, and just when she thought she might melt under the strength of his gaze, he crushed his lips to hers. All the built-up tension from days of resisting him broke through their restraints. She thrust her hands into his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more, needing more… desperate to feel every ounce of passion that only Nick was capable of giving her.
His hand tightened on her hip. She parted her lips, letting him deepen the kiss, a slick tangle that would have brought her to her knees if he wasn’t holding onto her so tightly. Every fear that had been controlling her slipped away with each stroke of his tongue against hers and each caress of his hand against her back.
The hard bulge of his erection pressed against her stomach, and knowing what she did to him sent heat rushing to her core. Moisture pooled between her legs, and all she wanted was to feel him inside her.
She ran her hands up the hard, defined muscles of his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Take me to bed,” she said.
He rested his head against hers, breaths coming short and fast. “Daze…”
She looked up at him through long lashes. “Please.” She didn’t want to wait a second longer, she needed him and she knew damn well he needed her, too.
He growled something about her eyes then scooped her up in his arms, surprising her and causing her to let out a high-pitched squeal.
She nuzzled into his warmth, well aware that the minute they stepped over that threshold there was no turning back.