13. Markus #3
He nodded. “Someone had to. Foster care wasn’t an option, not if I could help it. So, I stayed in the Hollow, got a job, and made it work.” He exhaled softly. “It wasn’t easy, but it was the right choice. Aiden deserved stability.”
“You both did,” I said, my chest tightening at the thought of an eighteen-year-old shouldering all of that. “But what about now? Aiden’s grown, right? Off at college?”
“Yeah,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “And I couldn’t be prouder of him. But I don’t know. Maybe now’s my time to figure things out again. Nursing school isn’t completely off the table.”
“It shouldn’t be,” I said, leaning forward. “You’d be good at it.”
“You don’t even know me that well,” he said, though there was a flicker of something—gratitude, maybe?—in his expression.
“I know enough,” I said simply.
He held my gaze for a beat before shaking his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. “You’re something else, Doc.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Maybe.”
We talked more as we finished our drinks, easing into lighter topics. We discovered we both had one sibling and shared the struggles of being the older one.
“Virgo?” I asked, raising an eyebrow when the subject of astrology came up.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Figures,” I said. “Meticulous. Organized. Probably drives your brother nuts.”
“It does,” he admitted, smirking. “What’s your excuse?”
“Same sign,” I said, and he groaned.
“Of course. This explains so much.”
We traded stories about childhood holidays—his filled with modest but heartfelt traditions, mine with the chaos of a big extended family. He laughed at my tale of trying to build a gingerbread house with my nieces and nephews that had collapsed before we could finish decorating it.
By the time we stood and strolled toward the exit, I couldn’t stop smiling, and when I stole a look at Nicholas’s face, neither could he.
My breath clouded the air as I held the door open for Nicholas, who tightened his scarf around his neck. We stepped onto the sidewalk and it felt like the world had narrowed to just us.
We walked in silence for a moment, our footsteps crunching on the light layer of snow dusting the sidewalk.
I glanced at Nicky, debating what to do when we were about to part ways.
Should I offer a handshake? A hug? Was a peck on the cheek too much?
Too little? God, when had I gotten so bad at this?
I walked him to his car, our conversation light but threaded with an undercurrent of anticipation. As it turned out, we weren’t parked far from each other. He stopped and turned to me, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“I had a great time,” he said, his voice steady but soft. “So much that… I don’t want the night to end.”
My pulse kicked up, the words sinking in. “You don’t?”
He shook his head, his gaze meeting mine, open and unguarded.
“Do you…” I hesitated, then cleared my throat. “Would you like to come back to my place?”
His brows lifted slightly, and I scrambled to add, “Nothing has to happen if you don’t want it to, Nicky. Just—”
“Nicholas,” he interrupted, his breath hitching. “Not Nicky.”
“Right,” I said, correcting myself. “Nicholas. Would you like to come back to my place?”
For a beat, I held my breath, waiting for his response. Then his lips curved into a slow, genuine smile. “I would.”
Relief and something else—something deeper, warmer—spread through me. “Want me to drive you in my car, so we can get to my place together?” I hesitated before adding, “We can come back for your car later. No worries.”
He shot me a playful look. “I appreciate it, but I’ll stick with my own wheels. No need to baby me.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Fair enough. I’m not parked far from here. I’ll be back soon and then you can follow me home.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He unlocked the door and slid into the driver’s seat, glancing up at me one last time. “See you in a few?”
“You will,” I said, stepping back.
I made my way to my own car, the excitement buzzing under my skin now tinged with a flicker of nervousness.
The memory of the first and only time he’d come to my place hovered at the edge of my thoughts—the way he’d left so abruptly, the week of avoiding me afterward.
We hadn’t talked about it, but maybe tonight was a chance to rewrite that ending.
I drove up next to him and then he followed me.
The drive home felt longer than usual, even though he was right behind me the whole way. The tension coiled tight in my chest eased a little when I turned into my driveway and saw his headlights pull in behind me.
I stepped out of the car and waited for him. Nicky climbed out of his own vehicle, shoving his hands into his coat pockets as he walked up the short path to where I stood.
Our eyes met in the glow of the porch light, and for a moment, everything else—the cold, the doubts, the awkwardness—faded.
“Ready?” I asked.
He nodded, a soft smile curving his lips.
When we stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloped us, and the door clicked shut. I wasn’t sure what tonight would bring, but when I looked at him standing there, I knew one thing: I wanted to find out.