Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NICK
“ W arm enough?” I tugged Cerys closer under the thick wool blanket. A fire burned in the hearth and the candles she’d scavenged from random drawers flickered around us.
This was the kind of moment I’d always dreamed of but never thought I’d actually get. Holding her in my arms, feeling her breath on my neck, watching the firelight dance in her eyes. It didn’t seem real. How many years had I spent wishing for this? How many times had I told myself I didn’t deserve it?
She nestled against my side, her palm resting on my chest. “I’m not shivering, if that’s what you’re asking.” A corner of her mouth quirked.
“Could’ve fooled me,” I said, keeping my voice low.
“You’re the one who insisted on bundling me up like a burrito.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “In fairness, a blanket and a burrito aren’t that different. Both keep you warm.”
She let out a quiet laugh, and the tension I’d been carrying slipped away. We’d clashed and argued so much — this felt almost unreal.
Tracing lazy circles on my chest, she tilted her head back until her amused gaze clashed with mine. “Do you think Meinir planned all this?”
I snorted. “I’ll admit, she’s capable of miracles.” She got us both in the house at the same time after all. “But weather manipulation might be a step too far — even for her.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She smirked. “If anyone could, it’d be her. If she can convince the entire village that the cider festival was rescheduled, just to win the pie contest, she can do anything.”
“That was different.” That was strategic genius. “This would require divine powers.”
“You know better than to underestimate Meins,” Cerys said, amusement tingeing her serious tone. “She’s probably out there now, summoning a second flood to keep you here longer.”
I squeezed her against my side. “Wouldn’t mind being stranded with you a bit longer.”
“Careful.” She bit her lip, batting her lashes at me. “You’ll make me think you like me.”
Her words settled like a well-placed chess move, deliberate and daring, waiting for my next play. Her lashes swept low, framing eyes that sparkled in the firelight. God, she was something else.
“I wouldn’t want to ruin the suspense, but if you’re still guessing, I must be doing something wrong.”
She tapped her fingers against my chest, her touch light and rhythmic. “You’ve got that rock star confidence down to a science, don’t you?”
“Gotta keep the fans guessing.”
Her fingers stilled and something shifted in her expression — like she was really seeing me for the first time, not as the boy who left, but as the man who’d come back.
“You really could, couldn’t you?”
“Could what?” The teasing note slipped from my voice as a furrow creased her brow.
I searched her face and she shook her head, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to say it out loud.
“Have anyone. Any life. Anywhere. You could pick... anything.”
I slid my hand up to cup her face, brushing my thumb along her cheekbone. “I did pick. And I’m right where I want to be.”
Her lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. For once, Cerys Evans was speechless, and I savoured every second of it.
I’d never associated silence with Cerys before, and it hit me like a rare gift. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in, brushing the faintest kiss against her forehead. It wasn’t enough — nothing ever would be — but it felt like the right place to start. A small promise for everything I still owed her.
She blinked up at me, a flicker of doubt crossed her face. “You live in Cardiff,” she said, her words measured, testing. “Your band’s taking off. You’ll be on the road... a lot.”
She didn’t flinch, but the edge in her voice told me she was bracing for something. Like the distance was already pulling us apart, even while she sat in my arms.
“Babe, that’s not even a competition.” I shifted onto my side and pulled her down beside me, wrapping my arm around her waist.
I didn’t believe she’d run away from me, not now —and how ironic would it be if she turned the tables on me now that I’d admitted the truth. Even so, a little caution never hurt anyone. She bit her lip, her teeth catching at the soft skin in a way that sent my heart racing. It was strange, seeing her unsure. Cerys had always been fire and certainty — all sharp edges and bravery.
My fingers traced slow soothing circles on her hip while I pressed my forehead against hers. “I need the band. It’s my heartbeat. But you’re the rest of me. Eight years without you, and I’ve never felt as whole as I do holding you now.”
Her eyes widened. “Nick?—”
“I mean it,” I said, my voice firm, but gentle. “Cilwen, Cardiff, London — hell, I’d set up a practice space in your cheese cave if it meant being close to you.”
That earned me a faint laugh. “You’d last a day.”
Her fingers brushed along my wrist, steady and soft. Something low and electric stirred deep inside me, like the first note of a song I’d been desperate to hear. I swallowed hard.
“I’d make it two.”
She smirked, that maddening little quirk of her lips that always seemed to carry its own brand of defiance. “Oh, I’d pay to see it. You and a wheel of Gouda, side by side. The headline writes itself: Rockstar Turned Cheese Curd Wrangler.”
The way she relaxed into my arms made everything else — every fear, every regret — melt away.
“Don’t tempt me,” I said, my tone lighter now. “I bet the acoustics are perfect there.”
She laughed, and my chest ached. My pulse kicked up, my grip instinctively tightening around her like I needed that sound to stay with me.
“Oh, I’m sure you’d turn it into your personal studio in no time.”
“But seriously.” I framed her face with my hands, holding her gaze steady. “I meant what I said in the kitchen. The band means everything to me, but I want you to be my world. I’ll make it work. Move here, figure it out — whatever it takes. I’m not losing this chance.”
Her fingers froze mid-pattern on my chest, her green eyes searching mine. “You’d really give up everything?”
“Not everything,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “Music is as necessary to me as breathing. But I’d give up any version of my life that didn’t have you in it. You said you loved me. I’m holding you to that.”
She blinked, her lips parting as if to argue, but the words never came. Instead, she leaned into me, her forehead brushing my neck. “When do you leave?” she whispered.
“In two weeks.”
She winced. “That’s so soon.”
“It is.” I nodded, sliding my hand beneath the blanket. “But it’s enough time to sort a few things out.”
“Like what?”
“Like convincing you to meet me on tour.” The need for her to say yes burned through me with a foreign desperation. She’d had a one-track mind in school though, and based on Meins’s comments earlier today, she hadn’t changed. I needed to pull out every trick I had, every card I could play. Starting with the slow, teasing circles my fingers traced on her hip, each one designed to unravel her resolve. “We’re playing Rome. You’ve always wanted to go. Why not now?”
Her lashes lowered, her eyes darkening as her focus drifted down. A faint shiver ran through her before my words seemed to click. Her gaze snapped back to mine, surprise flickering across her face.
“You’re serious?”
“Of course I am.” I smiled. Shocked awe looked good on her. My hand slid to her ass, fingers spread wide. “It’s just two weeks. You can handle that.”
She chewed her lip. “I don’t know...”
“What’s there to know? I’m not asking you to put your life on hold for six months and move into the tour bus. Though, I wouldn’t be opposed.” I gripped her ass, pulling her firmly against me, ensuring she could feel just how much the idea appealed to me.
Her eyes narrowed, her hand bracing against my chest, but her lips twitched. “A tour bus with you lot? That’s not living the dream, Nick. That’s suffering.”
I raised a brow while my hands skimmed back up to her waist and my fingertips teased the bare skin just above her leggings. “You’ve never even seen the bus.”
“Don’t need to. I can smell the bad decisions from here.” Her mock-serious expression slackened as my hand slipped up her T-shirt, skimming along her waist. My thumb grazed the underside of her breast, and her lips parted.
“Fair,” I said, unable to hide my smile. “But think of the perks. Private shows. Backstage passes. Room service if you ask nicely.”
Her breath caught as my fingers traced higher, my palm cupping the soft swell of her breast. “Room service?” She arched into my touch. “In a bus?”
“Fine, less room service, more takeaway bags and questionable catering. But the private shows are a guarantee.” I teased her nipple with my thumb. A soft moan escaped her lips as the sensitive bud peaked. “Name the song, and I’ll play it for you.”
“Bit desperate, aren’t you?” Her hand stilled on my chest, her nails digging into my skin through my shirt. “Using bribes now?”
“Whatever it takes.” I let my mouth drift to her neck, my teeth grazing her pulse point while my hand traced a path back to her waist. “I’m not above begging, either.”
Her laugh was low, but I caught the way her breath stuttered when my hand slipped beneath her waistband. “You? Beg? I’d pay to see it.”
She rolled her hips, grinding against me, and I groaned low in my throat.
“Careful.” I kissed the spot just beneath her ear, my tongue flicking out to taste her skin. “That’s an offer I’ll hold you to.”
Her hand clenched in my shirt, her back arching as she pressed closer. “And what happens after Rome? You’re back on the road. I’m here alone.”
“I’m not leaving you behind again.” I cupped her face, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “This isn’t some temporary thing. I’m moving home. I’ll be in Cardiff when I need to practice, I’ll tour when I have to, but the rest of the time, I’m here. With you.”
Her brows knitted, her lips parting slightly. “You’d really do that?”
“I already decided,” I said, my voice steady. “This is where I want to be. You’re where I want to be. Everything else is just details.”
Her fingers relaxed where they’d twisted into my shirt, her eyes locked on mine, waiting for me to blink, to backtrack. When I didn’t, she exhaled, and the breath that hit my lips felt like heaven.
“You’re serious.”
“As a drumbeat. I’m not letting us go, Cerys. Not now. Not ever.”
She shook her head, a small smile breaking through the tension on her face. “You really think you can juggle all this?”
I grinned, letting my thumb trace a slow line along her jaw. “I’m a drummer. Keeping rhythm is what I do best.”
Her laugh escaped before she could stop it, warm and rich, and it hit me square in the chest. God, I’d missed that sound.
“You’re an idiot,” she said as she pulled me closer.
“And you love me for it.” I leaned in until her forehead brushed mine.
“Debatable.” Her lips betrayed her, quirking into that maddening smirk that always seemed to challenge me.
I didn’t give her time to argue further. My mouth found hers, slow at first, testing, but when her hands tightened in my shirt and her body pressed closer, I let go of every doubt I’d carried for eight years.
I kissed her like a man possessed, like every breath I took was hers to claim. My hands, rough and calloused from years of drumming, slid beneath her shirt, tracing the curves that had haunted my dreams and fuelled my lyrics.
Her pulse fluttered beneath my lips as I pressed soft kisses to her jaw and down the column of her throat, a frantic rhythm that matched the drumbeat of my own heart. Her hot and desperate breath fanned the flames of a desire Id been trying to deny for years. I slid my hands up, taking her shirt with them. She sat up, her eyes locked onto mine, and lifted her arms, letting me strip it off completely.
I paused, taking in the sight of her, the way the firelight danced across her skin, the curve of her waist, the slight tremble of her lips. It cast a warm, golden glow that made her look almost ethereal.
She was gorgeous, not just on the outside, but in a way that spoke to every part of me. There was trust in her eyes, a vulnerability that she was handing to me like a fragile gift. It made me want to be better, to be the kind of man who deserved that trust.
Leaning in, I pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder and muttered, “You’re so fucking beautiful, Cerys.”
“I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” she said, tracing the line of my jaw with her fingertips.
I smiled against her skin, letting my lips linger for a moment before pulling back to meet her gaze. “Good.” I brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “Because I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”
Her lips curved into a soft smile, and for a heartbeat, neither of us said anything, the quiet crackle of the fire filling the space. “You’ve got a lot of time to make up for, Davies.”
I laughed. “Oh, I’m counting on it.” I captured her hand in mine, pressing a kiss to her palm before guiding it down to the hem of my shirt. She took the hint, pulling it up and over my head, her fingers trailing along my skin and leaving a path of fire in their wake. “And I’ll remind you every day if I have to.”
Her eyes roamed over my chest. Impatient, I dove for her, a grin splitting my face as I pulled her to my chest and unhooked her bra with a quick flick of my fingers. She laughed, as I tugged her down to the floor, rolling on top of her until she was pinned in the blankets.
“Now, where were we?” I propped myself up on my elbows and gazed down at her.
She flushed while her heart raced against my chest. “You were about to show me just how much you’ve missed me,” she said, her voice rough with desire.
I smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “That’s right.” I leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss. She moaned softly, her body arching against mine.
My hands explored her body, tracing the curves I’d barely had a chance to memorise this afternoon. Her breath trembled as my fingers found the waistband of her leggings, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. I broke the kiss, trailing my lips down her neck, her collarbone, until I reached the swell of her breasts.
“Nick,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in my hair as I took one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive peak.
I hummed in response, the vibration drawing a soft cry from her lips. The sound sent a jolt straight to my cock, making me throb with need.
I moved to her other breast, giving it the same attention, loving how her body responded to my touch. Her fingers threaded through my hair, holding me close. The storm outside rattled the windows, but here, it was just us, lost in our own world of heat and desire.
I trailed my hand down her stomach, her muscles quivered under my touch. Sliding lower again, I cupped her pussy and rubbed her through the material. I wanted to tear the fabric away, to bury myself inside her, but I also wanted to savour this moment, to draw it out and make it last.
Instead, I very deliberately curled my fingers in the waistband and tugged. She lifted her hips, helping me, and I slid both her leggings and underwear down her thighs, her calves, her ankles, until she was bare before me.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on Cerys’s skin as I ran my hands up her legs, a slow journey from her ankles to her thighs. Her breath hitched as I brushed against her soaking pussy. I pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh, and she squirmed, her hips lifting as if to urge me on.
“If you don’t put your mouth on me right now, I’ll make you eat your own drumsticks.”
I laughed, low and deep, letting her words linger as I kissed up her thigh, getting closer and closer to where she wanted me, but never quite there. “Bold threat, Evans. I’d love to see you try, but I’m a bit busy right now.”
“Busy stalling,” she snapped, her voice sharp but breathless. “You’d think eight years of touring would’ve taught you some bloody efficiency.”
“Is that what you want for our first time as a couple?” I glanced up, raising a brow as I pressed another kiss to her mound, just above her glistening lips. “Quick and forgettable? I thought you’d appreciate a bit more finesse.”
She groaned, her head falling back against the cushions. “What I want is for you to stop proving you can talk in circles and actually do something.”
“Do something?” My voice dipped lower as I nipped at her skin, earning a moan. “You make it sound like I haven’t already spent half the day showing you exactly how I feel.”
“Half the day isn’t enough.” Her fingers curled into my hair and tugged just enough to make her point clear. “You’re a drummer, Nick. Aren’t you supposed to have better timing?”
I shook my head as I kissed her other thigh, closer to where I knew she wanted me. “Fine. You win. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when I make this a moment you’ll replay on a loop.”
She laughed, the sound tinged with a challenge. “Then stop talking and prove it, rock star.”
And I did. Over and over, until her breathless laughter turned into quiet whispers, and the storm outside faded into the background. It wasn’t perfect, and it didn’t erase the years we’d lost — but it was ours. Messy and complicated, like everything about us had always been. But for the first time, it felt like we weren’t chasing or running. We were exactly where we belonged.