Chapter Two
NICKY
‘Hi,’ she breathed. Barely a whisper. Really more of a sigh.
‘Hi,’ he replied. He was glad she’d spoken first with something easy to reply to, because his instinct was to word-vomit all over her with inappropriate familiarity.
I’ve wanted to see you forever. Where have you been? I thought I’d never see you again. Where did you go? Why has it been so damn long? Holy shit. Holy shit!
Lucy looked so much the same. There had been no moment of pause, no stutter of his brain to come up with the name to go with the familiar face. It had been years, far more than he had any desire to calculate. Still, he recognized her.
Her hair was a darker brown, shorter. Cut in a sharp bob to her chin, with bangs that dusted the top of perfectly arched eyebrows. She was older, of course. They were both older. But it was her . It was Lucy. He’d have known her anywhere.
Nicky realized that silence had opened up between them like a fissure while he’d been musing.
‘You look the same,’ he blurted, like a doofus.
‘You don’t,’ she said, her eyes flicking to the thick tangle of tattoos on his arms.
‘How are you?’ Nicky asked, unwilling to shift his eyes from her face for fear she might vanish.
‘Well …’ She chuckled, waving her hands to indicate the truly staggering number of dicks all over the hall. ‘I’ve been better.’
Nicky tutted his own amusement back at her, partly because of the situation. But also, because he had spotted her left hand and there was no ring there. It felt like a victory.
‘Headed back to your room for some alone time?’ he quipped, grinning.
Lucy laughed, then. A big, unfettered belly laugh, with her eyes closed and her head tilted back. It stole the breath clean out of his lungs.
‘No,’ she tutted. With a flirtatious tilt of the head and a very mischievous gleam in her eye, she added, ‘These aren’t all for me.’
Nicky felt his stomach flip. Do actual somersaults. He was a grown man, well into his forties. He was a successful person, had been around so many blocks it was hard to remember them all anymore. Still, his stomach fluttered like he was a teenager.
Lucy cleared her throat and shook her head as though clearing out cobwebs, or trying to adjust to the same sudden shift in reality that he couldn’t quite grasp himself.
She looked down at the mess on the floor. ‘I should, uh, get this sorted.’ She bent over and began collecting the penis-pops by the sticks, giving him a perfect view of her ass in a pair of shorts tight-fitting enough to identify the outline of a credit card in her back pocket. He inhaled sharply.
‘Wait,’ he tried. ‘I have a solution. Don’t move.’
Lucy stood back up and eyed him, curiosity playing all over her features. Her face had softened, maybe, from how it had been. But it was still her. Lucy-goddamn-Rollins. In the flesh.
‘I mean it,’ he added. ‘You’re not going anywhere, right?’
‘Nope,’ she replied.
Nicky shuffled backward down the hall, digging in his pocket for his keycard while keeping her in his line of sight. ‘Just be a sec.’
He found his card and his door, then popped in as fast as his feet would carry him.
In the suite’s hall closet, he grabbed a canvas bag marked with the hotel’s name and instructions for laundry collection.
He raced back to the hallway, expelling an audible sigh of relief when he found her still there, leaning against the wall trying to un-mash the flowers.
Nicky hustled over, and began tossing the porno party decorations into the laundry sack. Lucy joined, and in moments they had the whole place dick-free.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘You’re welcome.’
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Gaped in perfect silence as a gentle puff of air conditioning rustled Lucy’s hair.
There were so many things he wanted to say.
Things he needed to say. But Nicky’s mind could only spin as it tried to catch up.
He’d just been heading out for a meeting and there she was.
Just thinking about contracts and business obligations and boom .
He was so fully stunned; he didn’t know what to do with himself.
Lucy broke first, looking away and mumbling, ‘Well, I’m just down the hallway, so …’
‘Can I walk you?’ Nicky asked.
She hesitated, just long enough for a spark of nervousness to zap him in the chest.
‘Okay,’ she replied, finally. Then she started digging around in her handbag again.
‘Are you here for a convention?’ he asked, holding up the laundry bag and raising an eyebrow.
‘That sounds like fun, but no. I’m here for a wedding.’ She waggled the hot pink bouquet.
‘Oh.’ Fuck.
‘Not mine,’ she clarified.
‘Oh.’ Thank God.
‘This is me,’ she said, stopping. ‘But I still can’t find my keycard.’
‘Um, could it be …’ He pointed to her back pocket.
Her hand slipped into the back pocket of her shorts.
When she pulled out the golden keycard, she looked between it and Nicky, her eyes scrunched up in confusion. ‘How did you … ?’
‘Lucky guess?’
A sly smile crept across her lips. ‘Lucky?’
‘Yep,’ he replied, with a sly grin of his own.
She turned to flash the card over the lock-pad.
Nicky blurted, ‘I’d really love to catch up. Dinner, maybe?’ He tried not to sound desperate. Really, he did.
She looked down at the flowers in her hand. Exhaled slowly. Nicky could feel the ‘no’ coming. Hated it.
‘Drinks?’ he offered.
Her eyes snagged on his. He tried to read her thoughts in their variegated shades of blue.
‘Yeah, okay,’ she replied with a little smile. It was really no more than half a smile, but he’d take it.
‘Great. I’ll pick you up here at seven.’
‘Seven-thirty?’
‘Sure. Seven-thirty.’
She swiped the keycard over the pad, and the lock clicked open.
‘It’s really good to see you.’ Nicky handed her the canvas sack and brushed a finger along the back of her hand as she took it. ‘I’ll see you later?’ It sounded much more like a question than he’d intended.
‘Yeah, Nicky. I’ll see you later,’ she replied quietly.