Chapter 15
On the drive home from JT’s,Tiana was feeling a little (a lot!) buzzed.
Her head lolled lightly on the headrest, warmth and a gentle hum of victory pulsing in her cheeks.
A tingle lingered on her lips, she was hyper-aware of it, the ghost of Niko’s kiss, the way it had landed with the force of a question she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer.
She told herself she was giddy because of the trivia win, but she feared the adrenaline and serotonin rushing through her had nothing to do with her team dethroning The Quizney Princesses.
So many thoughts were racing through her head.
They’d left the bar so suddenly. No long drawn-out goodbyes or explanations.
Niko suggested they go home, Tiana nodded.
He picked up her jacket and purse, thanked Deacon for stepping in, told Jenna it was nice meeting her, and with his arm snaked around Tiana’s back, guided her out of the bar.
As independent as she’d always been, always had to be, having a man take charge, even over something as insignificant as that, was a very big turn-on to her.
She’d had to make zero decisions in that exchange.
All she’d had to do was say goodbye, the rest was done for her.
She’d had no responsibility for the exit.
That might have been just as hot as the kiss.
During her time with Brock, he’d always ask her to make up a reason why they had to leave a social event, or he’d use her as an excuse without her knowledge.
She couldn’t count the number of times people had asked her if she was feeling better or if her migraine was gone or if whatever fill-in-the-blank emergency had been resolved.
She was put on the spot because she had no idea that he’d gone behind her back and lied about a fake illness or crisis to either get out of attending something or to leave an event early so he didn’t look like the bad guy, he came out looking like the devoted, caring husband.
Looking like. That’s what was always important to him.
Optics. Not who he actually was. Niko didn’t seem to care about optics.
At least not about headlines. His reputation was not the best, and she’d seen him do plenty of things that could clean it up.
The drive felt like she blinked and they were pulling up the driveway of the Airbnb next to Deacon’s house. Her heart was beating triple time with anticipation as Niko cut the engine. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d agreed to with that nod, but she would soon find out.
When Niko came around and opened her door like a gentleman, not because he had an audience, but just because that’s who he was, she got nervous and whispered, “Did you see the way Deacon was looking at Jenna and vice versa?”
Deacon wasn’t home, he was still at the bar, and even if he was, it’s not like he’d be able to hear her next door.
She wasn’t sure why she was whispering. It felt conspiratorial, the kind of schoolgirl secret you only shared in the middle of the night at a sleepover.
Was that what would happen tonight? Would she and Niko have a sleepover?
Last night she’d barely agreed to stay in his guest room, and now she wanted him in her bed.
Oh, who was she kidding? She’d wanted to be in Niko’s bed years ago, the vodka she’d consumed had just given her inner desires a microphone and voice.
Niko’s eyes widened, a knowing glint cutting through his lingering predatory gaze. “You caught that too?”
Tiana’s chin dipped in a nod as she stepped down from the SUV and was once again overwhelmed with Niko’s height, his voice, his scent, his nearness. “How could you miss it?”
The walk to the door was silent yet filled with a thick anticipation.
He waited for her to go inside before stepping in himself and then closing it.
As they took off their shoes and jackets, her mind raced wondering if he was going to bring up the kiss or, better yet, if he was going to kiss her again.
Instead, he hung up his jacket and stared at her with an expression she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He looked confused, or like he was trying to work something out. She’d had two drinks, so maybe it was because her brain was a little fuzzy and he wasn’t looking at her strangely at all.
His brows furrowed. “Have you eaten anything tonight?”
“Huh?” The question came so out of left field. She’d been expecting him to kiss her or at least address the kiss that she’d heard one of The Big Quizowskis refer to as so hot it could have “set off the sprinklers in the bar.”
“You had classes from four to eight, and then we went to the bar. You haven’t had dinner.” He sounded as if he was doing the mental math in his head.
“Oh, yeah, no, I haven’t.” She was used to that, though, and she’d had a few sweet potato fries at JT’s.
“What can I make you?”
“What?”
“To eat, you must be starving. What can I make you?” Niko walked to the kitchen with urgency and opened the fridge. She watched the way the cotton on his t-shirt stretched against his back as he leaned over and began to rattle off options.
A dam broke, and a deluge of feelings flooded through Tiana, making it impossible to hear the words he was saying. She was not an emotional multitasker.
She cut him off with a light, “Surprise me,” hoping her voice masked the turmoil going on inside of her.
Niko glanced over his shoulder, the interior light illuminating his strong profile, and the smile that spread on his face nearly caused her to faint. Her knees instantly became the noodles she’d typically be cooking for herself.
She took in a shaky breath, hoping Niko didn’t notice the emotional grenade his gesture had just detonated in her.
She’d never had a man, other than Pops, offer to cook for her.
Or a woman, for that matter. And Pops, bless him, was not really handy in the kitchen, so his “cooking” involved microwaves, and the work was mostly done by Chef Swanson, who packaged meals to be eaten in front of TVs.
Not that she was complaining. Some of her best memories were eating TV dinners at Pops after work when she was emancipated and lived on her own.
It was the first time she actually felt the semblance of a family.
Instead of sitting on the stools or the kitchen table, she hopped up onto the island, trying to keep the feeling more casual, not so…
real. She liked Niko more than she’d ever let herself admit before tonight, and the more time she spent with him, the more her feelings were expanded, ballooning dangerously in her chest.
He pulled out two waters.
“Thank you,” she said softly as he handed one to her.
He nodded and then began grabbing ingredients, humming softly as he worked. “You’re getting my signature grilled cheese,” he announced, “but I’m elevating it.”
“Elevating it,” Tiana repeated after taking a drink. “Should I be nervous?”
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”
Whether or not he meant his statement as a double entendre, that was how her lady parts took it. Hearing the gruffness in his tone as he said, good hands, was the equivalent of getting three sevens in a slot machine, and her entire body lit up screaming, jackpot.
Tiana watched as he lined up thick slices of sourdough and a pat of butter, then pulled out a block of aged cheddar from the crisper.
She liked this, seeing him in this element, domestic.
She wondered what all the tabloids would think if they saw him now.
Or if they saw him with those kids he sponsors.
Not just the photo ops but the relationships.
She was getting the feeling that no one had ever bothered to see how remarkable the man Niko was beyond the womanizing and occasional bar and paparazzi fights.
He opened the pantry and pulled out a tiny jar of Demerara sugar, shaking it like a magic wand. “You ever had caramelized grilled cheese?”
“Is that legal in this state?” she shot back.
“I got licensed to caramelize,” he deadpanned without missing a beat.
“You have a license to caramelize?” She pretended to swoon. “Oh my.”
He glanced over his shoulder, his half-grin revealing his deep dimple. “I don’t like to brag.”
She chuckled as he began to assemble the sandwich.
This scene was out of her dream life book.
Going out with friends, coming home, and joking around in the kitchen.
She wondered if maybe this was the Hope Falls Effect, that subtle tilt of the universe that everyone talked about but nobody quite believed in.
A place where the impossible sometimes just… happened.
There was something almost reverent about the way Niko worked, he buttered the bread, layered the cheese, then sprinkled sugar over the outside before pressing the sandwich onto the griddle, the hiss and aroma adding to the ambiance.
She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He was mesmerizing, the curve of his mouth as he concentrated, and the way his hands moved with certainty. He looked happy, truly happy, in a way she hadn’t seen before. It made her want to memorize the image.
“So you’re a big Love Island fan, huh?” she asked, trying to do anything to distract herself so she wouldn’t start drooling.
The corners of his mouth turned up. “I was wondering if you were gonna let that slide or not.”
“Not,” she replied, but the truth was she’d actually forgotten once he kissed her. She’d only remembered now because she was grabbing at straws for something to say so she didn’t blurt out, you are the sexiest man alive, and I want to have your babies.
“G used to watch it when we were together.”
Bringing up his ex helped. “Oh, so you watched it with her?”
“Yeah.” He flipped the sandwiches over and then pressed them both down with the spatula. His shoulder lifted in a shrug, and then he confessed with a resigned sigh, “But, I’m not gonna lie, I watch them alone now too.”
“You do?” She found herself smiling from ear to ear.