Chapter 12 #2
“Yikes.” For once, I can’t think of anything else to say.
After giving myself a second in the dark to compose myself, I open my eyes and turn my head to the side to look at him.
He’s already watching me. “Since we’re on the topic, sort of, I should tell you that it’s been a little bit for me.
I’ll still get up-to-date testing, but, yeah, it’s been a little while, and the last time I did it, I was clean. ”
I trail off awkwardly. There were many times in the past where this particular base was not covered before the game was played. It’s a miracle I never did catch anything.
“Clean?” Nils repeats, frowning.
“Yeah. Of…diseases.”
“Ah.” Sliding his hand around the back of my neck, he cups my nape and resumes brushing his thumb along my hairline. “I’ve never.”
I nod. He’d told me he’d never dated before, but that doesn’t mean he’s never done anything else. Even so, I’d had a feeling. I’m glad to have it confirmed, though, and try not to think too hard about what that means for us. All of his firsts will be with me.
“That’s okay. That’s why it’s important that I get tested and show you that everything is fine.”
Nils smiles gently, still rubbing my neck.
Smiling back, I lean forward to kiss him, pausing when I’m close enough to his face for him to understand my intention, but far enough away that he could back off if he wanted to.
Lips still curved into a delicate smile, he closes the distance and kisses me once on the mouth.
There’s not much to it, but a shiver of pleasure tickles its way down my spine anyway.
I’ve wanted Nils for so long, the chance to be with him feels fragile and precious. It feels monumental.
Nils tugs me forward by the nape of my neck and presses his lips to my forehead, too. I close my eyes. I want this to work so badly.
Nils is on his knees, elbow-deep in the access panel that leads to the engine on the Drifter.
It is, to be fair, not meant to be a sexy pose.
But given that I’m behind him and meant to be scrubbing the deck—also on my hands and knees, but unfortunately with nobody behind me to appreciate it—I have an incredibly distracting view of his backside.
Which, lovely as it is on any given day, is impossible to drag my eyes from when he’s in this position.
Those jeans certainly know how to present an asset, that’s for sure.
Blowing out a hard breath, I wipe the back of my hand across my forehead and continue scrubbing.
I’m not mechanically inclined, and so my repair services are nil.
I can, however, clean. So, on days like today when the weather is fine, the boat is docked, and the three of us catch up on maintenance, this is what I do.
It’s not hard work mentally, but my arms and back ache, and I’m sweating despite the cooler temperature of the day.
Lazy snowflakes are drifting from a slate sky outside.
There’s no forecast for heavy snowfall, but this winter hasn’t been one to play by the rules, so I’m not holding my breath.
Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind another monster storm.
I wouldn’t mind my heat going out or my leaky roof falling in.
I wouldn’t mind an entire season spent cozied up at Nils’ house, safe and warm.
Glancing over at him, I watch the movement of his thighs as he adjusts his position and reaches for something inside the engine, losing the lyrics of the song I was singing. Ugh. His butt is frying my brain.
“Oli?”
I startle, looking up and back over my shoulder. Shiloh crouches down next to me, and I sit back on my heels, grateful for a chance to stop. We clean the boat during the high season, but we don’t do a full deep clean like this each time. My elbows are sobbing in pain.
“Sorry, Shiloh, what was that? I was distracted. By cleaning. I was distracted by the cleaning.” And Nils’ lower back, exposed each time he moves his arm in a way that pulls his jacket up. I’ll just keep that to myself, though. Inside thoughts.
“Want a break?” he asks. Gratefully, I drop the sponge and shake out my wrist. When he offers a hand to help me up, I take it, neither of us caring that we’re both filthy.
“Thanks. I’ll go grab the cooler from my car. I brought lobster rolls today, but I tweaked the sauce a little bit. I tried it last night, but you’ll have to let me know what you think.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Shiloh tells me.
I nod, sending one last look Nils’ way before leaving the boat.
I don’t think either of them are good food testers.
They always tell me everything is good and then stuff their faces like they’ve not eaten in months.
I’m pretty sure it is all good, but I’m also pretty sure they have opinions about what they actually like and don’t like.
One day maybe they’ll share them with me.
When Nils sees me coming with the cooler, he raises his arms for me to hand it to him, having climbed down from the Drifter. His hair is tied low at the nape of his neck today, beanie pulled down to cover his ears from the air, cold even in the workshop.
When we leave the shop in the early afternoon, Ewan is waiting in the car park. I glance over at Shiloh in time to see a smile spread across his face, and he raises a hand to wave. Hopping out of his vehicle, Ewan waves back.
“Hello, boys,” he calls, rounding the back of his SUV and lifting the hatch.
I glance over at Nils. In the bright light of the day, I can see the gold tones in his brown eyes and the way snowflakes catch on his lashes. Not just his butt that’s distracting, then.
We rode in together, as we’ve been doing every day since we started dating.
He’d stopped by my house early a few mornings in a row, and I hadn’t caught on until the fourth day.
He was asking for more time together, which I, of course, am more than happy to oblige.
I’ve managed to convince him that it’s better we trade off days in order to make it fair, but I can tell he’d prefer I let him drive me all the time.
Sneaking another look at him, I think maybe I’ll let him have his way the rest of the week.
Gentle caretaking seems to be Nils’ love language.
“Everything okay?” Shiloh asks, putting a hand on Ewan’s back.
Ewan looks at him with an expression to rival the sun on a summer day but otherwise doesn’t react.
They don’t seem to be a PDA sort of couple, but then I rarely do see them together out and about.
As Shiloh recently put it to me, they “prefer to only be around themselves.” With Nils standing close enough to me that his hand brushes mine and I can smell the engine grease on his skin, I think I know exactly what Shiloh meant.
“Everything’s fine,” Ewan replies. “I just came to bring Oliver a gift.”
Shiloh, walking over to inspect what he brought, grumbles about me getting more gifts than he does. Nils huffs a soft laugh but otherwise remains silent. Touching his hand, I walk over to join Shiloh next to Ewan.
“Yeah? What did you bring me?” I have a feeling I know what it is, since Ewan gives only one kind of present: art.
And sure enough, the back row of seats is folded down to accommodate a canvas resting on a tarp, the painted side facing upward. Tilting my body to the side, I crane my neck and smile.
“Matches the one you already have,” Ewan tells me unnecessarily, pressing his hands into his lower back and arching into a stretch.
“This is perfect. I can put them both in my bedroom. They’ll look amazing right next to one another. And I can choose a paint color for the walls to match. Perhaps ‘Santorini blue.’” I glance back at Nils, happy when I see recognition in the tilt of his head and the knowing eyes on mine.
“Think you can fit it in?” Ewan asks me. “Otherwise, I can come by your place before we head home.”
“We can fit it. Although you should probably stop giving me these. It doesn’t seem like a good business decision, handing away art for free. People would pay a lot of money for this.” I pause, looking down at the canvas and gently resting my fingers on the corner. “Me. I am people.”
He laughs, stepping back toward Shiloh when Nils moves closer to help me pull it from the trunk.
“Nah. Friends-and-family discount. I was just messing around. And like you said, it’ll look good next to the other one. No sense in selling half of a matched set to someone else.”
I don’t bother trying to argue that a matched set is only a matched set if people know there are two.
He could just as easily have put this up for auction and let me have mine.
Nobody would have been the wiser. But in the same way that helping me with chores seems to make Nils happy, giving gifts brings Ewan joy.
I can’t say I mind being on the receiving end.
Nils and I get it tucked into the back of my SUV, the canvas a lot easier to handle with two pairs of hands than one. Ewan, sharp hazel eyes on us, seems to notice the lack of a vehicle in the lot at the same time Nils slams my trunk closed.
“Rode in together?” he asks lightly.
“Yeah. We’ve been doing it for a couple weeks.
We’re neighbors, so it makes sense. Save on fuel and…
stuff.” I trail off, not sure what other “stuff” is being saved by carpooling.
Greenhouse gases, I suppose. Wear and tear on the car.
All things I should care about, and good reasons to ride together.
Of course, the only reason I really care about is the extra hour and a half of time I get with Nils per day, trapped in a small space.
This morning, he held my hand. But yeah, sure, fuel is the reason. Definitely.
“Mm.” Ewan hums, a slightly knowing tilt to his mouth as he looks between us. For half a second, I wonder if I said that bit about holding hands out loud, but then he turns to Shiloh and slaps him lightly on the butt. “Meet you at home? I started dinner in that slow cooker thing.”