6. He Comes With the Best Type of Baggage
I couldn’t believe Camilla, my personal romantic assassin, liking the most random posts on Nick’s Instagram feed. Like it were a car wreck, I couldn't help but stare, recoiling at the illuminated heart that sat below a photo of Nick holding a Donny Hathaway album from years ago. Years!
“Aww Jesus,” I whispered to myself, shivering in the dim lobby of my apartment complex, smashing the elevator button once again. I had one goal, and one goal alone; get upstairs, avoid Nick at all costs, and enjoy the Martini-induced deep sleep that I earned.
I leaned against a row of mailboxes, tucked in the corner as the front lobby door swung open.
I fought from groaning, peeking up from my phone whose low battery logo flashed on my screen.
Dear god, don’t do this…
Nick-fucking-Stafford walked through the large, windowed door, his face stern from the cold wind outside, but it softened as he made eyes at me.
“Nick!” I smiled, crossing one leg over the other, letting out the most god-awful chortle. Why am I this way? I tried not to stumble, my holiday drinks already making their way down to my wobbly posture.
“Elena?” he said surprised, scanning me up and down, assessing me, my outfit, my face. “I, uh… thought you…” he shook his head, stopping his thought. “How are you?”
“I’m god,” I said, shutting my eyes. “ Good . I mean, I’m good.”
Silence followed as Nick shifted his weight. He muscled over large plastic bags from one hand to the other, balancing a paper grocery sack between his bicep and chest. I watched as he carefully bit down on the tip of his black leather gloves, snatching them free, letting them loose into the bag before licking his lips.
“Still have that deadline tonight?”
“Yes.” I peered over Camilla’s carefully wrapped package that rested on the floor. “Actually, I have more to do than I thought. It’s going to be a busy night.”
“It’s already pretty late, isn’t it?”
I nodded, checking how his black chinos and boots matched perfectly with his long topcoat and heather-gray sweater. I appreciated how long his hair started to become, his duck tails swooped back into perfect waves. He was dressed nice, neat even, a sobering contrast to his equally sexy, rugged, morning look from earlier.
The elevator door opened up as Nick gestured for me to go first. I hurried awkwardly, lifting Camilla’s present into my arms, entering. Somehow inside felt even quieter, as we both reached for the same button. What a gentlemen, pressing my level before his. We each pulled back and laughed.
God. More silence and accidental eye gazing.
Was he thinking about me liking his posts? Had he seen it already? I wondered, suddenly feeling too warm as I unbuttoned my coat.
“No family party tonight?” I finally asked, the elevator creaking in the background.
Nick smiled to himself. “I kind of bailed on that.”
“Not in the mood?”
“Not exactly. I love my sister, love my nephews… just wanted to try something different tonight.”
“Like compete in an eating contest?” I joked, noticing the familiar Sichuan Garden logo on his plastic bags. He looked to be carrying nearly ten pounds of my favorite Chinese food.
“Thought I would give it a try… besides, Marty loves the leftovers.”
“He seems like a chow-mien kinda dog.”
“Think more broccoli and beef.” Nick tilted his head, his eyes shifting. He suddenly seemed so self-conscious of the bags, staring at them, his face washed with indifference.
He reached for the pocket in his jacket, for what I assumed was his phone.
I panicked, my stomach instantly twisting into a knot.
This was it; he was going to see the notifications now if he hadn’t already.
“I didn’t mean to like your posts!” I blurted out, leaning against the railing of the elevator wall.
Nick pulled out a piece of gum from his pocket, sticking it into his mouth. He chewed, just letting my random statement float around with no response.
“What posts?” he asked curiously, almost confused.
“Oh…”
“You liked one of my posts? Like on Instagram?”
“Well, a friend did… I mean I like them, too, but…”
“So, you were with a friend?” Nick scanned me once more, but this time his gaze lingered much longer on my lips. I wasn’t sure if he was relieved or concerned.
“She’s my boss… it’s complicated.”
“Hmmm,” Nick sighed. “I thought for some reason you were on a date.”
“Date?” I snorted, smoothing over my hair, its taut texture blooming into curls on the other end of my ponytail. “No. No date. Never a date.”
“Never?”
Don’t make me relive this.
I faked a smile.
“The last one I went on ended with an awkward handshake turned fist bump.”
Nick shook his head, “That’s terrible.”
“I know, right! Anyway, safe to say, it didn’t work out. Since then, it’s been crickets in the dating department.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said, rather confidently. “Especially tonight, I can’t imagine you going out like that… and not being hit on.”
“Like what?” I stared down at my outfit, playing with its gold buttons.
“Like that, Elena…” he rolled his eyes, amused. “It’s just that you look nice… like, really, really, nice.”
Nick stared for a hard second, which turned into two, then three. My head swirled with blood and booze, my lips numb to a buzz that surely made me blush.
Me? Nice looking?
His determination to not look away was met with the most alluring challenge, as Camilla’s daunting cackle morphed into an encouraging chant in my head.
Do it, do it, do it!
I squeezed onto the gift, the elevator beeping loudly, stilling time as my mouth opened and my breath fell short into the most confident response I could muster.
I wasn’t sure how I did it, or why it suddenly felt so easy, but my words spilled out in perfect harmony to the unapologetic sincerity of my eyes.
“You look good, too, Nick.” I twisted my hands, trying to, but unable to resist the most obnoxious smile. “Actually, I think you’re really cute. Always have.”
The elevator jolted to a stop, reaching my level as I turned to face the reflective door. Never had I felt so completely empowered, so totally in control as my one hidden truth finally came out in the most spectacular way. It was effortlessly seamless when I turned back with a seductive wink.
I faced forward, smiling at my reflection for a second, waiting for the door to open.
Nothing.
Nick reached for the button and pressed it.
I continued to stare.
Nothing again.
The elevator door wasn't opening.
It.
Wasn’t.
Opening.