21. Maddie
Chapter twenty-one
Maddie
It’s only the two of us back in Nick’s apartment. He has refused to let me out of his sight. He’s playing mellow mood music. He can’t really be planning a kissing tutoring session, can he?
“I need to shower, but you’re not allowed to leave,” he says sternly.
“There’s nothing more to discuss,” I say.
“That’s true,” he says.
I narrow my eyes. “Then I’m leaving.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll bang on the wall all night if you leave.”
“Clause one,” I say. “No noise past ten p.m.”
“No music past ten p.m.” He tsks. “Should have read that a bit more carefully. And you call yourself a reporter?”
I frown. “Seriously? I’m sure I wrote noise. It’s sometimes so hard to distinguish.”
He clutches his heart. “Ouch.”
I check clause one, and indeed, it is music. I was so worried about the physical contact that I didn’t pay close enough attention.
“You’re staying, right?” Nick is gathering up a change of clothes. At least he’s going to emerge dressed.
I don’t answer, and he disappears into the bathroom.
I could leave. I have my keys and his keys.
But I stay and look around. So…this is Nick’s apartment.
I’ve seen it a few times from the doorway or through the window from the fire escape when I’m knocking to tell him to lower the volume, but not at my leisure.
A guitar stand, a blue loveseat, a kitchen like mine, posters of bands everywhere, a photo of him and his mom, a photo of him and another man in front of Pickles—probably that mentor guy, not his dad.
Nick seems well-balanced for someone who’s been through so much.
The rushing water stops. That was the quickest shower ever. This is my last chance to leave. I bite my lip.
Various shuffling noises sound in the bathroom.
I move from the couch to a chair at his dining table—much more formal. I need to take control of this situation.
I am an amazing kisser. Men melt when I kiss them. They’re practically beating down the door to kiss me. I wet my lips as Nick peeks out the door, no shirt, one sharply defined shoulder.
“Making sure you are still here,” he says.
“I’m not leaving,” I say as if I’m completely comfortable.
He opens the door wide, T-shirt in hand. I open up his newspaper. There’s a slight swish of the T-shirt being pulled on, and then Nick steps out and takes a seat across from me at his tiny table. He is lounging, though, with his legs on either side of me.
“Sarah’s article is good,” I say. “She totally mocked my Meet the City Agencies series idea. ‘Everyone will be buying copies to read that.’”
“You’re avoiding the topic,” Nick says.
“Not at all. I’ve decided you’re right that my ex wanted to throw off my confidence. And you’re right. I’m a good kisser.”
For a second, Nick’s eyes flicker. I’ve surprised him.
“Great. We can kiss next time, then?” he asks.
No . Ugh. He’s so annoying.
“Let’s practice,” Nick says. “You’ve insisted that we practice for everything else, and this is probably the most critical piece of the puzzle.”
“Way to up the stress level.”
“I’m absolutely sure you’re a good kisser,” Nick says. “Maybe I’m the bad kisser and you’ll have to give me pointers.” He leans across the table at the same time as his foot slowly traces a line up my calf. His gaze is so intense.
He wants to kiss me.
My heart rate jumps. I can do this. He’s right. We need to practice.
I’m a great kisser. Not like a wet fish at all.
He reaches across for my hand and laces his fingers with mine. I love the feeling of the rough calluses on the tips of his fingers.
“But do we have to try it across this table?” he asks. “Because I’m not going to be able to impress you if I’m trying to kiss you with a table in the way.”
I nod. Nick Devlin and I are going to kiss.
“You’re thinking too much,” Nick says. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re analyzing this.” He pulls me up by the hand. “Couch?” he asks.
I nod. I don’t think I can speak. Nick’s couch is this deep-blue velvet loveseat, but instead of letting me sit down, Nick sits and pulls me into his lap. He smells so good—a combination of Dove soap and spicy aftershave. And he radiates heat.
“Are you comfortable?”
The weird thing is, I am actually comfortable.
Sort of. This is Nick, my infuriating neighbor, but these past few weeks, he’s moved from annoying, attractive neighbor to something…
more . We used to just hang out when we ran into each other in the neighborhood, like at my favorite dumpling place or at Craic and Laughs, but we were more casual friends.
If I’m honest, though, I’ve always tried to see him perform at Craic and Laughs.
But I didn’t show up at his other performances because I was afraid he’d realize I found him attractive, and that would ruin our casual vibe.
Now I’ve shared my hopes with him. I trust him.
And this is one kiss. I can do this.
“Are you ?” I counter, bringing my attention back to his question. “I’m the one sitting on your lap.”
“I’m not comfortable.” He puts my hand on his heart. It’s beating so fast. “But I like holding you close.”
Yes, I can definitely kiss the socks off Nick Devlin.
I tilt my head. “Is this part of our fake dating?”
“Maddie, have some confidence in your effect on me. I can’t fake my racing heart.” He leans his forehead against mine and looks deep into my eyes. “Tell me you’re not un-attracted to me.”
“Nick, you have to know your effect on women.”
“I want to know my effect on you, Maddie,” he whispers.
His eyes are filled with something that looks like desire as his peppermint breath lightly brushes over my heated skin. I swallow.
“I want you to kiss me,” I whisper back, somehow finding my voice. It comes out deep.
He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear and then cradles my face. I can feel myself sinking into his warmth and comfort.
Nick tilts his head, my eyes close, and his lips find mine, teasing, exploring, as I give myself over to this moment.
Shivers of desire flicker and flitter throughout my body, and I want more.
I grab his shirt as he pulls me closer, slanting his head, not stopping.
He tastes so good. I shift my hands to run them across his back muscles.
He moans and shifts our positions so I’m lying beneath him on the couch in one motion, all while still kissing me.
His hard, lean body rests on mine, but I like the weight. I like the solidity of it.
But then all conscious thought ceases, and I lose myself in the kiss, in Nick making me feel all the feels. This is all that counts—the shivering sensations, the heat, the glowing embers being stoked to a simmering fire, his lean back muscles rippling under my hands.
We finally part to breathe. Nick tenderly sweeps my hair back from my face and then drops a kiss on my nose. “You’re a very good kisser, Maddie. I don’t want to stop.”
“I don’t want to stop either,” I say.
“I can kiss you again?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“But just kissing?” He traces the collar of my shirt, leaving hot, shivery embers in his thumb’s wake.
My stomach dips. I want to say, “More,” but I haven’t thought it through.
Nick chuckles, this deep laugh that makes me feel aglow. “You’re thinking too much. Clearly, I need more practice kissing. You’ll practice with me, right, Maddie?”
He kisses me again, and all my thoughts quiet as I focus on exploring these feelings with Nick.