13. Nick #3
“Think about what kind of childhood she had. What kinds of things were shoved down her throat when she was young. Did anyone encourage her to play sports or take an interest in science or encourage her to figure out what she loves and who she is? No. She was raised on a steady diet of being told her only purpose in life is to be pretty, get married, and have babies to carry on the family legacy. And she was shamed and punished every time she stepped one toe out of line or tried to take any sort of control over her life and future.”
“I never thought of that.”
“They say that siblings often have different parents growing up, and I think that’s especially true here.
You were raised to be the perfect son. The business mogul and ruthless problem-fixer whose sole purpose in life is to generate more wealth and power for your family.
Your parents absolutely fucked you up too, in a different way.
They made your entire identity what you could accomplish and how useful you could be for them.
“Emily was raised to be the perfect wife and support her future husband so he could do all that manly stuff for her. She wasn’t allowed to be a person, she was raised to be whoever her future husband would want her to be.”
“I…”
“Did you know she doesn’t give a shit about the wedding? Not in the way you think she does.”
“What do you mean?”
“This isn’t her dream wedding. All the plans she’s making, all the details she’s stressing over, they’re not things she wants.
They’re the things she’s supposed to want.
What everyone expects her wedding to be because of who she is.
She’s still fitting into the tiny little box of what your parents and society think are acceptable.
And while everyone has an opinion on her wedding and lists of things she has to include because of tradition or whatever, no one is actually helping her plan this giant four-hundred-person party she never wanted. ”
“She told you this?”
I nodded. “It’s sad how many people dismiss her or don’t listen when she tries to ask for help. All I did was give her a safe space to talk, and she did. She’s not stressed about her wedding not being perfect, she’s stressed that it won’t be good enough. That she won’t be good enough.”
“I had no idea.” He leaned back on his hands, a dumbfounded expression on his handsome face.
“I know. And it’s not your fault. But now that you see things from her perspective, maybe you can cut her some slack and just be there for her in whatever way you can.”
“I will,” he said. “I can’t believe I didn’t see any of this, but you’re right. It’s so obvious, and I missed it.”
“Sometimes we’re too close to a situation to be able to see it clearly.
I get why you lied to me.” Distractedly, I used my toe to gently push the swing into a slow arc and stared at the floor between us.
“But I’m not like other people in your life.
I don’t want you to swoop in and play savior and solve my problems for me. ”
“I promise I’ll keep you informed of what I can from now on.”
“Thank you.” I ignored the vague language of his statement. I was taking the W on this.
“You said you’ve been on your own since you were sixteen…”
I nodded and pushed the swing a bit harder. “I’m surprised Vlado didn’t find that out when he was doing a deep dive on me and my life. It’s not like it’s a secret.”
“His report mentioned it, but didn’t give details. All it said was that you lived with your friend’s family for the final two years of high school and then you and him moved out and became roommates.”
“There’s not much more to it. My family moved when I was sixteen and Aiden’s parents let me live with them until we graduated.”
He studied me like I was a complex math problem.
“It’s nothing scandalous. My dad lost his job when I was fifteen.
It took him almost a year to find a new one that matched his pay and position.
The job is in Pennsylvania, so my parents moved with my little sisters and I stayed.
It didn’t make sense for me to move across the country for a few years and lose all my connections here.
And it gave my parents more buying power because they only had to find a place for four instead of five. ”
“Your sisters are quite a bit younger than you, correct?”
“Yup. Alice is ten and Cara just turned eight. Again, nothing scandalous. My parents had me young and decided to wait to have my sisters when they were better established.”
“Are you close with your family?” On the chaise, Evan stretched his legs out and crossed one ankle over the other.
“Close enough. We chat and FaceTime. But they’re busy and have a million things going on.” I shrugged. “It’s fine. I made my own family, so I’m not really missing anything.”
He leaned back on his hands and looked at me closely. The muscles in his arms bulged and popped, as did his abs.
I cleared my throat and cut my gaze back to the floor. When I peeked up at him, he was smirking.
“You’re a cocky bastard when you’re half naked.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Do you have any idea how hard it was to have a conversation with you about all that important stuff while you’re flaunting your hotness like a fitness influencer?”
“Flaunting? I’m just sitting here.” He spread his knees, forcing the material of his shorts to pull tight around his thick thighs.
“Don’t play dumb with me, mister. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“And what am I doing?”
“Being a distraction.”
“What am I distracting you from?”
“Myself!”
He chuckled.
“That made sense in my head. You’re short-circuiting my brain. Stop it.”
“Stop what?” He ran one hand down his sculpted chest in a move that looked casual but was clearly calculated.
“Cheater. You’re a businessman. You’re supposed to be flabby and soft and resistible. This.” I waved my hand in his direction. “Is unacceptable.”
“You’d rather I be out of shape?”
“No. Well, yes. Sort of. But no.”
He quirked his eyebrow at me playfully.
“Get up.”
“Why?” He stood.
“Help me out of this damn thing so I don’t break my face when I fall out of it like a moron.”
He held the cords, keeping the hammock in place.
Carefully, I slid off it. When I stood up straight, my chest brushed his.
“Now what?” he asked, his voice husky and his eyes molten.
“Now you carry me to your bed and you fuck me like you mean it.”
Strong hands gripped my ass and yanked me off the ground.
“Yikes!”
“Don’t I always fuck you like I mean it?”
I wrapped my legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“You’re too nice.”
“I’m too nice?” He walked me toward the bed.
“Yes. And stop repeating everything I say.”
“How am I too nice?”
“You’re always so sweet and gentle.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“No. It’s amazing. But not every time. It’s like you think I’m going to break if you’re rough. I’m not some delicate flower. I can handle getting railed. Hell, I love it. There’s nothing better than a big cock fucking me so hard I can’t walk the next day.”
He stopped next to the bed. “Do you really think telling me how much you enjoy sex with other men is the way to get what you want from me?”
“Maybe.” I shifted up his body and draped my arms over his shoulders. “What? Can’t handle the thought that breakable, delicate Nicky might like being bent over and used like a sex toy? That I like when guys are rough and aren’t afraid to give it to me?”
“I don’t think you’re delicate or breakable.” His eyes burned with passion and his voice dropped to a timbre low enough to send a shiver of excitement up my spine. “If I gave it to you, as you say, you wouldn’t be able to walk for days when I was done with you.”
“Prove it.”