Spring Break Fling

Chapter 35

35

NIKKO

B oise was a far cry from Miami. It wasn’t just the temperature, which holy shit, it was cold. It was like night and day. The crisp Idaho air hit me differently than Miami’s humid warmth. Everything felt muted. It was all so quiet. My Uber driver was humming along to some country song on the radio. Getting to see the city where Hannah lived was exciting. When we flew over the area, I couldn’t believe how vast the fields stretched out for.

Now that I was getting a ground view of the place, I found it charming. It was so different from the high rises and beaches in Miami.

I had no idea what I was doing here. Showing up unannounced was not my style. But everything about Hannah had challenged my usual approach to life. Something inside me knew I couldn’t let things end the way they did in Miami.

Diego had thought I was crazy. “You’re going to show up in Idaho? After everything?”

But he didn’t understand. Hannah wasn’t just another girl. She’d gotten under my skin in a way no one ever had before.

I knew showing up like this was risky. After how things ended, after what Jessie revealed about her original plan, I wasn’t sure how she’d react. But something in me needed to see her. Needed to understand. So here I was, standing in her office lobby. I was just about to head to the elevator and go up to her office when she appeared.

“Rough day?” I asked, taking in her disheveled appearance.

She blinked, as if trying to process my sudden presence. “You have no idea,” she said softly.

The moment I saw her face, I knew something was wrong. Her eyes were red and glassy like she’d been crying. My chest tightened, and my hands balled into fists. I didn’t think those tears were because of me.

“Who hurt you?” I growled, closing the distance between us in three quick strides.

“Nikko—” she started, her voice shaky.

I grabbed her gently by the shoulders. “Who. Hurt. You?”

She shook her head and let herself collapse into my chest. I didn’t hesitate, wrapping my arms around her and holding her close. Her body trembled against mine. I felt something primal surge through me—a need to protect, to fix whatever had her falling apart like this.

“What happened?” I asked. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Tell me,” I said.

“It’s Clarke,” she mumbled into my shirt, her voice muffled.

I frowned. “Who’s Clarke?”

“My boss,” she said, pulling back just enough to look up at me. “He gave my promotion—my dream job—to someone else. After everything I did, all the work I put in…” Her voice cracked, and she looked away, blinking hard.

Rage flared in my chest. If I ever met this Clarke guy, I’d have a few choice words for him. But I swallowed my anger and focused on her. “That’s bullshit, Hannah. You deserved that.”

She nodded, her lips pressed tight. “I know, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing I do ever seems to matter to him.”

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering on her cheek. “Come on,” I said softly. “Let’s get out of here for a bit.”

We ended up wandering around downtown Boise. It was nice. The streets were clean, and the whole vibe was calm—completely opposite to the chaos of Miami. There wasn’t music pouring out of clubs. There weren’t drunks stumbling around. I did pick up on a distinct odor when the breeze hit just right. I was pretty sure that was cow shit, but maybe it was farmland. I couldn’t tell.

“Boise’s… cute,” I said, glancing around.

“Cute?” Hannah asked, arching a brow.

“Yeah, like, ‘safe to walk at night’ cute,” I replied.

She chuckled despite herself. “High praise coming from you.”

We strolled in silence for a while. Finally, Hannah broke the quiet. “Clarke does this all the time, you know? Takes credit for everything, passes me over for the big stuff. I should’ve seen it coming.”

“This was the guy that called that morning,” I said.

“Yep. The one that raked me over the coals and ‘saved’ me from my own failures. That’s what he does. He pushes me and props me up and makes me think he’s in my corner and then bam! He pulls the rug out from under me.”

I could hear the frustration in her voice, and it pissed me off all over again. “Why do you stay, then? If he’s such a dick?”

“Because it’s supposed to be worth it.” She sighed. “I’m putting in the work. I’m doing the heavy lifting to earn my spot. I’ve been working toward this for years. If I quit now, it’ll feel like all of that was for nothing.”

I stopped walking, turning to face her. “You know what I think?”

She tilted her head. “What?”

“I think Clarke’s an idiot. And I think if he can’t see how good you are, then screw him. You don’t need his validation.”

Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “You’re biased.”

“Damn right I am,” I said. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“I’ve spent another week busting my ass with Clarke breathing down my neck. Last night I went to bed around two. I was working on the presentation today. He wanted me to send him everything to go over. He’s my boss so it’s not like I was surprised he wanted to see it. I had no idea he wanted to see it so he could steal my thunder! ”

I listened carefully, my anger growing with each word she shared. “That’s complete bullshit. He’s taking advantage of you.”

Hannah nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I know. But what can I do? I’ve worked so hard to get here.”

“You can do better,” I said firmly. “You’re talented. Smart. You don’t need to put up with someone treating you like this.”

We walked a bit further, the cold Idaho air cutting through my leather jacket. Everything felt different here—the quiet streets, the distant mountains, the sense of space. It was interesting.

She smiled for real this time, but then her expression shifted, her brows furrowing. “What are you doing here, Nikko?”

“Taking a walk with you?” I offered, smirking.

She gave me a look. “You know what I mean. Why are you here ? In Boise? How did you even find me?”

I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “You mentioned where you worked. I Googled and here I am. Plus, I found myself with a lot of free time on my hands.”

She crossed her arms, one brow arched in that way that made her look both skeptical and gorgeous. “And you just decided to hop on a plane?”

“Pretty much,” I said, shrugging. “Look, you saw how messy things had gotten in Miami for me. It felt like a good time to get some space from all that. I went to book a flight, and when I saw Boise, I just knew I had to come here. To see you. To apologize.”

“Apologize?” she repeated, confused.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice softening. “For everything. For how things ended. For yelling at you. For being an idiot. I didn’t want to leave it like that.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “You don’t have to apologize, Nikko. I’m the one who messed up. I lied to you, I?—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I interrupted, taking her hands in mine. “Yeah, the revenge plan was a crappy way to start, but I believe you when you say it changed. I screwed up too, with the tattoo. I shouldn’t have done it. I would kick someone’s ass if they put that shit on my arm. So, let’s call it even, okay? ”

She blinked at me, her lips parting slightly. Then she nodded, her voice barely audible. “Okay. Even.”

“Good,” I said, squeezing her hands. “Now, how about dinner? We can talk more, eat something good. I’m starving. I’m on Miami time and it’s time for dinner.”

She let out a soft laugh. “You’re always starving.”

“True,” I said, grinning. “So? You in?”

She hesitated for a beat, then smiled. “Yeah, I’m in.”

We found a cozy little bistro not far from where we’d been walking. The place was quiet, with soft lighting and a menu that made my stomach growl just reading it. Very homey. Very country. I didn’t see a single taco or cilantro anything.

I ordered a massive burger and fries, while Hannah got a salad. When the food arrived, I couldn’t help but tease her. “Salad? Really? After the day you’ve had?”

She rolled her eyes. “Some of us can’t eat like we’re preparing for a marathon.”

“Your loss,” I said, taking a massive bite of my burger.

“I’m planning a date with a tub of ice cream later,” she said. “I’m saving myself.”

As we ate, I could see the tension slowly leaving her shoulders. She told me more about work, about Clarke, about her frustrations. I listened, occasionally offering a grunt of understanding or a choice comment about her boss.

“I just want to prove myself,” she said finally, pushing around a tomato on her plate. “Is that too much to ask?”

I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not to some asshole like Clarke.”

She looked up, surprise flickering across her face. Then slowly, a smile spread. “When did you get so wise?”

“Always been wise,” I said, winking. “Just didn’t always show it.”

She was quiet for a few minutes. I took a drink of the cold beer.

“I was heartbroken,” Hannah murmured.

“What? ”

“Coming home after everything that happened—it felt so unfinished. Like we were in the middle of a sentence, and then the page just ripped. It was over before it ever started. I hated the way we left things. It has kept me up every night.”

“I know what you mean,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I kept replaying that last day in my head, wishing I’d handled it differently. Wishing I’d…” I trailed off, shaking my head.

“What?” she pressed gently.

“Wishing I’d asked you to stay,” I said, my voice low. “But I didn’t, because I thought you deserved better than the mess I am.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re not a mess, Nikko. You’re just figuring things out. And for what it’s worth, I would’ve stayed.”

That hit me square in the chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling softly.

We sat there for a moment, just looking at each other, and I felt like the world had righted itself for the first time in weeks.

Then she surprised me.

“If you’re waiting for things to blow over in Miami, why don’t you stay here? With me. Boise is a great place to lay low.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Here? In Boise?”

“Yeah,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “We could use the time to figure out… us. No pressure, no expectations. Just see where it goes.”

I stared at her, stunned. The idea was insane—and yet, it made perfect sense.

“You don’t have cats, do you?” I asked, deadpan.

She blinked, then burst out laughing. “What?”

“I’m allergic,” I said, grinning.

She shook her head, still laughing. “No, no cats. See? I’m already learning new things about you.”

“Guess we’ll learn a lot more,” I said, my smile widening.

“Guess we will,” she agreed.