Chapter 29
NIKKI
I’m curled up on my couch in my living room with a glass of wine and a book called Transform Your Guilt. Maybe I’m being an overachiever; I feel like I’ve already learned a lot from Eve. And from myself.
I cock my head. Is that music outside? Weird.
I live on a tiny street, more like a lane, with only three houses. The neighbors aren’t partiers. Maybe I’m imagining the sound.
I go back to my book.
The music gets louder. Someone is singing and not very well.
Has some drunk found their way up here from Laurel Canyon Boulevard?
Unlikely.
I set my book down on the couch and stand. What do I do? I don’t really want to encounter some hoodlum when I’m here by myself. What are they doing?
It’s a dilemma, because my house has no windows onto the street, for privacy. All the windows are on the other side to take advantage of the view. I go to the door and crack it open to listen.
“You’re in the silence, in the rain, in every dream I can’t explain.”
My head jerks back and my eyes shoot open. Whaaat?
It’s a male voice, and he’s singing my song.
“Though you’re far away, one truth remains…”
I unlock the door and whip it open.
It’s not totally dark yet although the sun has set, and I can make out the man standing on the concrete pad in front of my house. He’s got a—what is that? A boombox?—held in both hands above his head. It’s not actually him singing, the music is playing from the boombox, but… it’s his voice.
Marek.
I stare at him, at a loss for words.
“I still feel you in my heart.”
My heart springs into a wild rhythm. Our eyes lock across my driveway in the dusk, his gaze steady, face unsmiling, holding up the portable stereo. I listen to the rest of the song, a hot softness ballooning in my chest.
You’re the only love I’ll ever know.
I’m still yours… just so you know.
No matter where this road may go,
I’m still yours… just so you know.
The song ends and I press my fingers to my lips. “Is that you, John Cusack?”
He laughs softly and walks closer. “Thank God I have the right house. This place is a maze of tiny roads.”
I watch him, my heart bumping, my knees wobbling. He’s so, so handsome and precious. I’ve missed him so much. And I run to him.
The boombox crashes to the ground. He hoists me up against him so my feet don’t even touch the ground, and our mouths meet.
I’m crying; my face is wet and so is his as our mouths cling together hungrily.
A sob rises in my throat and I rain kisses all over his face—his cheeks, his temples, his eyes. “Marek.”
“I’m here.”
“Did you get my message?”
He pulls back and grins at me. “Yeah. I did.”
We both start laughing, but I’m also still crying, and hiccupping noises spill from my lips. He turns in a circle, then walks us to the open door of my house.
“Your boombox,” I remind him.
“I don’t want it.”
“I do. I want to hear you singing again.”
He groans and sets me down and I dart back to pick it up. I inspect it dubiously. “I hope it’s not broken. Where did you get this?”
“A thrift shop.”
I roll my lips in on a smile and carry it into my house. I shut the door behind us, set the boombox on the kitchen island, then dive into his arms again.
“Baby, Christ, I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. Oh, Marek. I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I’m here. For you. For us.”
“I have so many things I want to say to you.”
“Me too.” He pulls back and gazes down into my eyes. “But the first thing is… I love you.”
The organ in my chest stops for several painful missed beats and then explodes in a frantic pounding.
“I love you, too.” I lay my palms on his cheeks and rise onto my toes to kiss him. “I love you so much. I have for so long.”
“Fuck. So much time wasted.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry. But in my defense, you were pretty clear that you weren’t into relationships. What’s your motto? ‘Fuck hard. Play harder. Do things that make you happy.’ That doesn’t sound like a guy ready to settle down.”
He tenses against me, leans his forehead on mine and breathes. “Yeah. You’re right. I’ve learned some things about myself recently.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Some people can be really mean.”
I laugh softly. “Uh oh. Is one of those people Mabel?”
“Yeah.”
“If it helps at all, she was mean to me, too.”
His head jerks back. “What? What did she say to you?” he demands, brows lowered.
“She told me that if you don’t love yourself, you’ll push away people who try to love you.”
He stares at me.
“And she was right, I think.” I give him a sheepish smile. “I still love her though. Come on. Let’s sit down.”
He looks around my place as I lead him to the couch. “This is nice. Holy shit, that view.”
“I know. Isn’t it great?”
He pauses at the windows to survey the city glittering below us. “Amazing.”
Then he joins me on the couch, eyeing my book. “A little light reading?”
“Homework?” I bite my lip. “I’ve been seeing a psychologist.”
His eyes are warm. “How’s that going?”
“It’s been hard. But good.”
“Okay. Why was Mabel right?”
“Um. I didn’t think I pushed people away. But I thought about it and… I’ve had boyfriends. Nothing that ever stuck, though. Sometimes I felt hurt that it ended and blamed the guy. But… I have had a hard time loving myself… sometimes. And that could be making it hard for people to love me.”
“Not me.” He kisses my forehead.
“I know. It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“How we connected so instantly. And even… after the accident, even though I was a dog’s dinner, you… were there for me.”
“I don’t think it’s weird.”
“I can’t get you out of my head,” I tell him. “Which is a problem because sometimes I have other things I need to be thinking about. Like what I would name my dog if I had one.”
He barks out a laugh of surprise. “Important stuff.”
“Yes.”
He nods, then slides a hand around the back of my neck, so gentle yet strong, and pulls me close again to kiss me.
His tongue slides into my mouth and ohhhhh God, his kiss.
I give myself up to it, to his taste, his heat, his scent.
I slide my fingers into his hair and kiss him back like this is my last moment on Earth.
He groans, his tongue pushing into my mouth in an erotic rhythm and I shift closer, pressing against his muscle-packed body, sinking into the loveliness of his kiss and his touch. His love.
“God, I love you,” he murmurs against my lips. “Every sweet, silly inch of you.”
I smile. “I love every charming, fun, brave inch of you, too.”
“Some people have told me I’m a coward.”
“Those mean people?”
“Yeah.” He brushes his mouth over my cheek. “They might have been right.”
I ease my head back so I can see his eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“I was too fucking scared to fight for you. I shouldn’t have let you walk away. Or I should have come with you. But I… I’ve never done this.” His eyes shine with honesty. And vulnerability. “I was afraid you’d reject me again.”
My mouth trembles. “I’m sorry.”
“And I was afraid I didn’t know how.”
“How to…?”
“How to love you.”
“Oh.” My sinuses sting. I’m going to start crying again. “Marek. You just have to do it.”
“I do. I am. I’m going to love you the way you should be. I’m going to be the man you need. I might fuck up sometimes, but I’m not going to be a chicken shit anymore.”
I let out a strangled laugh. “Good to know.”
He kisses me again, long and sweet and worshipful, then says, “I went to the hospital.”
I blink at him. Then… “Oh. To see a sick child?”
“Yeah. He’s five and he has cancer.”
“Oh, no.” My heart stutters. “Were you okay?”
“Fuck, yeah. Seeing a little kid fighting cancer? Phhht. I was fine. I was ashamed for not wanting to do it. I wanted to do it for you. To be brave. Like you. Like Will.”
“You are brave. You went through hell. You cover it up with all that cocky charm and confidence and laughter, but underneath I know what you’ve been through.”
He sighs. “Apparently I’m also spoiled.”
I recoil. “Wow. Mabel wasn’t holding back.” I frown. “I don’t think I agree with that one.”
“She says everything comes easy for me. And after the accident, my parents were so relieved I didn’t die, they spoiled me rotten.
Maybe they did. Maybe things were too easy for me.
I thought about what you said, that nothing of value comes quickly.
I thought about how hard you’ve worked to get where you are.
And maybe I did give up too easily when you were leaving, but now I’m gonna work harder.
Because you are so valuable to me. So important.
I’ll work hard every day to earn your love. ”
My lips tremble. “I want to apologize to you.”
“For what?”
“For not being honest with you. Except, I didn’t really realize at the time what was going on in my head.
I truly didn’t think we could be together.
Well, first because I didn’t think you wanted any kind of commitment; but after the accident in Berlin, I…
well, you know I felt responsible for that. ”
“Yeah…”
“And I got it in my head that because I survived and those other people didn’t, I didn’t deserve to be happy.
” My throat squeezes and I bow my head, because I’m still working on getting past that.
“I felt like I didn’t deserve for anything good to happen to me.
I didn’t deserve my career anymore. I didn’t deserve you. So I left.”
He closes his eyes, brackets etched around his mouth. “Nikki.”
“I’m working on that,” I tell him.
“Everyone deserves to be happy.”
“That’s what Eve said. But also… I think I learned that from you. Maybe life isn’t all fun and games, but happiness is important. I have fun with you. You make me happy.”
He nods. “That’s my mission in life. Make Nikki happy.”
My smile is shaky. “Me, too. I mean, you. I want to make you happy.”
“So you sent Mabel that song as a message to me.”
“Yes. But not just to you.” I pause. “I sent it to the whole world.”
His mouth softens and his throat works as he gazes back at me.
“If you didn’t understand it, I would have come back to New Jersey to smack it into your head.”
“Ouch. Violent.”
“Where did you get the Say Anything idea?” I smile at his recreating the scene from that movie.
“Google.”
A laugh springs from me. “Okay.”
“If the music didn’t get you out of your house, I also recorded a screech owl. So funny, it sounds just like a witch ghost.”
I gasp. “That’s cruel!” Then I dissolve into laughter. “But… how are you here? Your schedule…”
“I can only stay tonight. I’ve got a flight back tomorrow night, we have a game Thursday. I got permission to miss our practice tomorrow.”
I pout. Only tonight. “I’ll come back with you.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can. I can do anything.”
“Attagirl.” His dimples appear.
“I just have to make some changes. Some adjustments. I’ll have to travel. But I can make my base in New York.” I hesitate. “Would you… come to Berlin with me? In July?”
He gives me a searching look. “Yes. But why?”
“We’re going to do a benefit concert. To raise money for the victims and their families.”
“Will you be okay?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But I’m going to try.”
He gives me a searching look, then pulls a slow smile. “Brave girl. Of course I’ll come with you.”
I move into him again, burying my face in the side of his neck, breathing in his warm scent. His arms around me are strength and safety and love. But also freedom. Freedom to be myself. To not have to be perfect.
“Eve says that perfectionism comes from fear,” I murmur.
“Mmmhmm.” He draws back and peers into my eyes. “I get that.”
“So maybe you’re not the only one who’s a coward.”
He huffs out a laugh. “We’re all cowards, diva. Everyone’s afraid of something.”
Even he has fears. Even this big, strong, confident man who gets on the ice and slams other hockey players around. “I guess it’s how you deal with the fear that matters.”
“Yeah.” His smile slides into a lopsided curve. “We can’t let it stop us. Which I did. You just have to realize something’s more important than fear.”
“Yes. It’s more important for me to be myself, even if I might fail. Or disappoint my parents. Or my fans.”
“Being yourself—that’s important.”
“Yes. Also… you’re important.”
He cups my face. “You’re important to me, too. The most important. And…” He pauses. “Don’t think I came here just for sex, but I’d really love to fuck you.”