Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Lake
W hen morning broke, the sun sliding through the shades, I slowly opened my eyes and wondered which reality I’d stepped into.
The reality where things made sense, where I hadn’t just had sex with one of my best friends—who I fought with more often than not. Or the one where I seemed to currently reside.
I lay in a comfortable king-size bed, the duvet over us both, the sheets tangled on the floor, two pillows on the ground, another one shared by us.
After the first time, when he had been so sweet and gentle, he lowered his body and licked and sucked me into completion once more before he found his final condom, one I was deeply grateful for, and I rode him, breasts bouncing, him tugging on my hair, me scratching down his chest.
I had cried at first, not because of who he was or who I was, but because of the moment in general.
It had just felt so full, so everything . And that was something I had to deal with. That I cried as he had sunk deep inside me, and he wiped my tears as if it hadn’t bothered him in the slightest.
I was standing in the remnants of who I once was, and now I lay in his arms, his deep breaths warm against the back of my neck. He had one hand around my body, over my stomach, between my breasts, as he cupped me. Just one breast, the other resting on his forearm, as if this was the most natural pose in the world. And maybe it was. Maybe it could be with him.
Or maybe I was losing my mind.
This weekend had been a whirlwind.
Ned hadn’t truly harmed me, he had threatened to, and Nick took care of it. If I made it a bigger deal, it would be something I might have to worry about later, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be the center of another incident where nothing could be done because he technically hadn’t done anything. He wouldn’t be kicked out of the event, and they would continue to praise him for being amazing. So I wouldn’t say anything. At least not yet.
Perhaps I would do what all women did in business situations and warn other women. It was our secret code that wasn’t so secret.
But I didn’t want to think about that man. I didn’t want to think about the fact that the first time I had been with someone since Zach was with Nick of all people. Because I had thought about this before. About the maybes. Just like any girl who looked up to her older cousin and his best friend. Because Leif’s best friend had always made me swoon, even when we butted heads.
Nick moved, grunting as he curled even more around me, all protective like, and I pressed my lips together.
Well shit. Shit shit shit.
I was all warm and happy and sore and I hadn’t had a panic attack.
Last night, well wrapped up in him, I was feeling every moment and inch of him and us. I hadn’t panicked in the slightest. I lived in the moment and said what I wanted—and I had gotten it.
I hadn’t panicked or had to count to ten or felt like I was losing my mind.
I pressed my lips together and figured my therapist would call that progress.
I might have to call that a delusion.
He grunted again, still sleeping, but when his hand lowered, his face pressed against the back of my neck, I knew I needed to get up. We had a flight to catch and a lot of thinking to do.
Because as soon as we left this bed, the moment would be broken. Then again, perhaps it was already broken.
I gently rolled out of bed, holding back a smile as he rolled to the center of the bed over the warm spot I had made and laid face down like a starfish. He was a bed hog.
Was that something I was supposed to know? That one of my best friends was such a bed hog that he would immediately roll over and take as much space as he could.
I took a quick shower because I could smell him on my skin and I wouldn’t be able to function on an airplane or travel or deal with anything else if I could. I washed my hair, annoyed with myself for not even bothering to take off my makeup last night or brushing out my hair before bed. I looked a mess, but I didn’t care. I would be smooth and glowy and dewy and all ready for the day. When he woke up I wouldn’t look as if my world had been irreparably altered.
I didn’t bother to blow-dry my hair. Instead, I put it into a semi-complicated bun along with a headband and called it a day. I did a quick makeup session, no foundation, but some powder, brightener, and three coats of mascara. That would be my shield for the day, along with sunglasses, lip gloss, and the air of knowing what I was doing. Even if it was all a lie.
We had mostly packed the day before, but I finished packing, trying to be as quiet as possible. We still had some time, and I wanted him to sleep. This was his first time being able to sleep in a bed for this entire trip. He deserved it.
He deserved many things.
And I wasn’t going to think too much about that statement.
He groaned and I looked over as he sat in the bed, running his hands over his hair. I watched the muscles in his arms and chest move, noticed that the sheet barely covered him, and I could see his bare hip.
I swallowed hard and then moved back to the suitcase.
“I’m just packing, but the shower’s all yours.”
“Okay.”
That was it, that’s all he said, until I heard him groan again, get out of bed, and walk—presumably naked—to the bathroom. I hadn’t looked, and it had taken all of my patience and willpower to do so.
I heard the shower going and ignored the image in my head of him wet and slick and rubbing soap all over.
We were never going to do this again. I’d had a moment of delusions, and it wasn’t going to happen again.
And yet, why did I feel like I was losing my mind?
By the time he was out of the shower, I was already packed and ordering us breakfast.
“They have this English muffin thing to-go that I ordered, and we get free breakfast with the room every day, so that’s why I went all out.”
“No problem,” he mumbled, and I looked over to see him dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that clung to his muscles, but he was still barefoot.
I swallowed hard, wondering why things were so weird now?
Oh yes, because the night before he pounded you into the mattress, remember?
Hard and fast, and soft and slow. It had felt like perfection, and I came more than once. Something I had never done before.
I’d had great sex before, but I’d never had sex with Nick before. And somehow that was even better than anything else, and I had no idea how I was supposed to go back to being normal.
“Sounds good. I’m all ready to go.”
“Okay, good.”
He looked at me then, studied my face, before he shook his head and went back to the bathroom to presumably pick something up.
The staff came with our breakfast, and we called the bellhop to get our bags, and suddenly I was looking at a cold English muffin in my hand in the back of an SUV on our ride back to the airport. Nick ate his like nothing mattered or had happened the night before, and maybe that was fine. Maybe I just needed to get over myself.
He gave me a look, and I took a bite of my sandwich, not wanting him to get grumpy at me for not eating. He tended to do that at the shop, so I wouldn’t give him a reason to now.
Oh God, I was going to have to see him at the shop, and everywhere else. I had wanted a night with him, a moment. Just to be. And now I didn’t know what to say. I was so awkward at this.
But he wasn’t helping by being his broody silent self. While it might be hot in other times, right now it just made me nervous.
We barely spoke in the car, or in the airport or on the plane. When we did speak it was about nothing important, and we sure as hell hadn’t brought up what had happened between us. This was so wrong, and we had messed things up. And I didn’t know how to fix it.
When he pulled into my driveway to drop me off, I sighed and got my bags.
“So, are we going to talk about it?” he asked. I jumped, not realizing that he was standing right behind me, and nearly fell.
“No? Maybe? How? We’re adults. We can do this. We can still be friends.”
That was the worst thing to say. I didn’t want to just be friends. I should have had an idea of something to say. I’d had this entire traveling day, and yet nothing had come to me because I was so nervous. Because I didn’t know what I wanted, so how was I supposed to make things better?
“Really?” He let out a laugh that once again did things to me I didn’t want to think about.
“We’re business partners. Leif calls me brother. That makes us family doesn’t it?” he asked, sarcasm drenching his tone.
I shuddered. “No, it doesn’t.”
Hurt crossed his face, and I backpedaled. “I mean, we’re not family. Not in that weird banjo-playing way. Not after last night.”
He laughed, before he sobered up. “So I didn’t hurt you?” he asked, his voice soft.
All the tension from before slid out of me, even as I moved forward. “Of course not. We had consensual sex.” Look at me sounding like an adult who knew what I was doing. It couldn’t be further from the truth.
“We fight all the time. And we’re friends. And I just, I don’t want to hurt our group. Our people.”
I don’t want to hurt you.
He nodded at me, his jaw tightening.
“You’re right. We wouldn’t want to hurt our people.” And with that, he handed me my suitcases, leaving me beside my driveway before he got in his SUV and backed out. He didn’t move, though, and I knew he wanted to wait for me to go inside.
But what was I supposed to say? What was I supposed to do?
So I waved at him like an awkward idiot and pulled my suitcases into the house, locking myself inside.
Where apparently I would be safe.
And away from Nick.
I heard the SUV drive off, and I let out a breath.
I’d made a mistake.
With him just then?
Or with my actions in general.
Knowing I didn’t have time to wallow, because my world couldn’t just be about my feelings, I rolled my suitcases back to my bedroom so I could unpack. My siblings always called my ability to unpack right when I got home a sign of being insane, or at least something that a monster would do, but I knew they were just joking. And I couldn’t just have suitcases lying around my house.
I began to unpack when my phone rang. I looked down at the readout and froze.
It wasn’t Nick. He wasn’t calling to check in or make sure I was okay or to talk about what happened and what we should do about it.
But I really wished it was.
I ignored Zach’s call and quickly sent off an email to my contact at the police department, telling them that Zach had called again. There was nothing they could do, as Zach wasn’t harassing me. Not in the eyes of the law.
But I would keep up. Keep everything documented, and I wouldn’t cry. Even though I really wanted to.
I finished unpacking and started to get things ready for the next day. I had meetings, and phone calls, and countless other things to do. I wanted to talk with Susanna and work on the school and other charities. I had an entire life that didn’t revolve around love and sex and heat and mistakes. I just had to remember that.
My phone buzzed again and I froze, hoping it was Nick. And once again it wasn’t. It thankfully also wasn’t Zach.
Diana’s name filled the screen and I answered, a small smile on my lips.
“Hello, Diana. I was just thinking about our meeting for tomorrow.”
“Me too. I know we were planning lunch at your place, but how about we try the café next to my house?”
I smiled and nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “That’s perfect. I’ll schedule that in and make sure everyone knows.”
“Great, I know it’s last minute, but it just came to me. Honestly, it’s the best idea.”
We talked a few more minutes about upcoming things, and when I hung up, I sat on my couch, pressed my face to my knees, and wanted to cry. Because I couldn’t focus, couldn’t do anything. I was such a mess.
And I had only myself to blame.