Time Stops With You

Chapter 15

Fifteen

CULLEN

I turn on her shower, noticing the way it gleams. The bathroom has been scrubbed clean. Probably Ashley’s doing.

The hiss of the overhead faucet spraying water into the tub gives me somewhere neutral to focus my attention. Sticking my hand under, I let the cold water remain for a bit and strangle myself with patience, trying to keep control of my body.

I’m on a cocktail of medication and Nardi’s wrist brace isn’t due to come off until tomorrow. Even when we’re both in no shape to enjoy each other, I’m three seconds away from unzipping my trousers and exploring what’s beneath that soft, fluffy robe of hers.

“How’s your wrist?” I ask, still facing the tub.

I hear Nardi slide off the counter. Her feet hit the ground with a soft thud. She walks closer and I can’t breathe.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sounding both frustrated and concerned.

“I asked first.”

“I heard you were in the mountains,” she says.

“I heard you called Sara.”

“You didn’t answer any of my messages.”

The heat in her voice makes me turn to look at her. But only at her face. I’m not an idiot. That robe is messing with me. The way it hugs her curves is a giant temptation.

“Was something wrong?”

Her eyebrows hunker low over her brown, doe eyes. “You left me with all those documents and disappeared. What was I supposed to think?”

“You were worried about me?”

Her frown intensifies. “Don’t patronize me, Cullen. I thought you were…”

“Dead?”

She wraps her arms over her chest and looks away, her jaw muscles working.

“I’m not dead yet,” I assure her.

“Obviously.”

I smile. “Disappointed?”

“More like annoyed.”

“Sorry.” I dip my head in mock reverence. “Next time, I’ll be sure to hand over my company in a way that won’t cause you concern.”

“You could have called.” This time, there’s no anger behind the words. It’s just a statement of fact.

“Reception was spotty.”

“In the mountains.” She arches an eyebrow, suspicious.

“Yes, in the mountains.”

“Where you were.”

I swallow hard. My eyes trace down to her wrist brace and the messy bandage beneath the splint. Seeing her injured arm helps as much as if I’d stepped under the cold shower.

Speaking of the shower…

I swing the dial so hot water comes pouring out instead of the cold. The tub fills up.

“Do you have soap you prefer?” I glance at the bottles set neatly on the edge of the tub.

Nardi stares at me, her dark eyes assessing.

“I’ll use this.” I pick a bath gel that looks the fruitiest.

Nardi stops me. “Use the natural soap instead. It’s organic and less irritating in case…”

“In case what?”

She doesn’t answer but she unwraps a package and sprinkles it in the water. It doesn’t get bubbly, but she seems satisfied. The tub is almost full now, and I turn off the faucet.

“Have you changed your bandage?”

She nods.

I approach her and gently lift her wrist brace, inspecting the worn, tattered threads of the bandage beneath the thick outer casing. “Did you rest it like the doctor told you?”

“Yes.”

“No housework? Or cooking?” I arch a brow at her.

“You sent Ashley here every other day. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.”

“Good girl.”

She inhales shakily. “Cullen.”

I turn around. “Take off your robe and get in the tub, Nardi.”

“Say please.”

I twist my neck to look back at her.

She tilts her head up. “If you’re going to order me around, at least say ‘please’.”

For a second, the air swirls with tension. It wouldn’t be Nardi if she did what I asked the moment I asked it.

I enjoy our fights, almost as much as I enjoy the way she melts when I kiss her. But I don’t have it in me to argue today. It’s taking all my energy not to touch her the way I want to.

Facing the door again, I sigh. “Please.”

The soft sound of her robe spilling to the floor fills my mind with vivid images of her skin and body. I hear the splash of her getting into the tub and force myself to breathe evenly.

The doctor warned that I can’t do anything strenuous, so joining Nardi in the tub is off the table.

Get it together, Cullen.

I didn’t think I’d lose control this quickly. With this many meds in my system, I thought I’d be completely numb.

“I’m in,” Nardi says quietly.

I turn and see that she’s covered in water. Only her head, bare shoulders, and injured wrist are sticking out.

“I’m going to wash your hair now,” I announce, walking over.

Nardi has her wrist brace balanced on the edge of the tub. She splashes her other arm back and forth in the water.

“Is it warm enough?” I ask, forcing myself to think about her comfort rather than her soft, naked body submerged under the hot water.

“It is.”

I reach for the removable faucet head and rinse her hair until it’s fully wet. Then I rub shampoo into her scalp. Nardi flinches.

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

“No, I just… I’ve never had a man wash my hair before.”

Pleased, I put special care into her scalp massage. “I’ve been curious for a while about something Josiah said.”

Her shoulder muscles relax. “What did he say?”

“That your ex boyfriend is the reason you’ll never get married.”

She pins her lips together, looking uncomfortable.

“He also said your ex is the reason you left Belize and came to America.”

The silence is deafening. Nardi’s mouth is softer than a flower petal and yet it’s her sharpest weapon. She’s always had a comeback for me and the fact that she isn’t using her usual sass now…

“So it’s true,” I say quietly.

“It was a long time ago.”

I pour more shampoo into my hand and massage it into her hair. She makes a pleased little sound and I peep her leg moving above the water. The curves I want so much more than a look at are just within reach.

Keep her talking or you’ll lose it, Cullen.

I clear my throat. “What happened?”

“We don’t have the kind of relationship where we talk about exes,” she mumbles, her body melting into the water.

“Our relationship is close enough that you’re naked in front of me, but you don’t want to talk about your past?”

She considers it. “Taking off your clothes and talking about the past are two different things.”

“In other words, you trust me with your body but not your heart.” I move my massage to the back of her head.

Her neck tilts forward, baring more of her skin to me. “Tell me why you’re pushing Cullen Tech on us now.”

“You’re negotiating.”

“You’re a businessman. You should know a good deal when you see it,” she mutters.

“I’m a programmer, not a capitalist.”

“Says the guy who bought a building.”

“Fair point.”

“Enough stalling, Cullen.”

I finish with the shampoo and rinse out the suds, shielding her eyes with my hand. “I’m dying.”

She stiffens at my words.

I add, “My body gave me a reminder that my time is limited and I need to ramp up the pace.”

“What happened?” she demands.

“Ah-ah. You tell me first. Who was he?”

Nardi sighs. “He was my first love. We met in junior college.”

“In Belize?”

“Yes, in Belize. His family was wealthy and his parents had dual citizenship. They wanted him to study in the States, but he didn’t want to leave me. I couldn’t stand to be apart from him for a second either so I swore I’d be on the first flight out.”

“What happened next?” I ask, trying to remain even-keeled when I’m burning with jealousy. “Did you meet him?”

She leans slightly forward in the tub, chewing on her bottom lip. “Yes. Two months later, I saved enough for a ticket and followed him to America. My mom was furious. His parents hated me. We had opposition everywhere we turned, but we were determined to be together. He proposed to me and we had plans to get married before applying for my citizenship.”

“You were engaged?”

She tilts her head back. “I thought you did a background check?”

“An engagement isn’t exactly on a police report,” I grumble.

Nardi points to another bottle. “Use a lot of the conditioner and this comb to detangle.”

“Now who’s being bossy?”

“You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

A laugh bursts from me. In the hospital, I felt like a cadaver. But now that I’m with Nardi, I finally feel like a human being. Every heartbeat, every breath, it’s sharper. Clearer.

I’m alive.

“What broke your engagement?” I ask.

A dark cloud descends over her, chasing away the laughter.

“You first. What was the reminder that you’re dying?” she asks.

“I blacked out and had to be rushed to the hospital,” I say matter-of-factly.

Water sloshes out of the tub as Nardi sits straight up.

“I’m fine.” I tell her. That’s only half true, but I’m keeping that part to myself.

“When?” Nardi frowns.

“I’m okay now, Nardi.”

She turns to me and her eyes search my face. “ When , Cullen?”

“The night I was supposed to come over.”

She makes a mental calculation. Her eyes widen. I can tell that she’s about to bombard me with questions and I twist her head around.

“Stare straight ahead so I don’t get conditioner in your eyes.”

“You lied to me. You weren’t in the mountains, were you?”

“How did you break your engagement?”

“Why haven’t you been going to the hospital?” Her voice gets louder and more insistent as if she plans to get her answer first by shouting over me.

I run the comb through her straight hair. “When will you sign the marriage certificate?”

“Do you really have to die?”

I freeze. That almost sounds like a plea for me to live.

Nardi pulls away from me.

We’re both breathing hard.

For a while, neither of us moves.

Then suddenly, she spins, spraying water from her wet hair. Her eyes narrow on me. “I won’t marry you.”

“It’s the best option. Think about Josiah’s future. The longer you delay signing, the more complicated things will be.”

“You’re insane.” She makes a sound of pure frustration. “And now you’re dragging me to the asylum with you.”

“I don’t mean to?—”

“Live if you’re going to live, Cullen. Die if you’re going to die. Screw me if you’re going to screw me. Use me if you’re going to use me. You’re so damn vague. Pick a side instead of being confusing.”

“Dying is the other side of living, Nardi. They’re the same coin. And you…” I breathe out and gesture for her to rest on the tub so I can wash the conditioner out of her hair. “You’re not just a woman I want to screw before I die.”

“Really? Because you were licking your lips when you saw me in my robe.”

“I said you mean more to me. I didn’t say I didn’t want you. I do. Even now, you’re testing my control.”

Her breath turns shaky.

“I promise you I will take you to bed,” I set the faucet away. “But not while your hand is still injured. I want you to enjoy yourself and I also don’t want to worry about hurting you.”

“I thought you wanted to break me?”

The question makes me smile. “Yes, but not hurt you. I want it to be pleasing for the both of us.”

Her words echo against the bathroom walls. “You’ve never done this before, but I have. How are you so sure you can please me?”

That’s a challenge.

My eyes narrow and I immediately turn the faucet off. Tilting her chin up, I twist her head around so she’s staring at me. “Put your hand on the tub.”

“What?”

“Your hand, Nardi.”

She arches a brow.

I add, “Please.”

She sets her good hand on the tub.

I carefully adjust her injured arm. “Keep your wrist brace out of the water. No matter what. Do you understand?”

She licks her lips.

“Nardi.”

“I understand.”

“I’m going to be gentler than I was in my office.” I lean down slowly. Her eyes flutter closed but mine remain open. “Because I know that’s what you need.”

“What I need?—”

I take her mouth and end whatever she was going to say. Our lips brush and my heart feels like it might burst.

She’s exquisite.

And so soft.

This woman. This brave, intelligent, warrior of a woman. She calls me insane, but she’s the reason I lost my mind.

Nardi arches into me and my resolve snaps. I want to drag her straight into the depths with me. I want to sink in deep and fill her to the brink until there’s nothing but pain and pleasure, torture and bliss. Until she can feel nothing but me. In her body. In her heart. In her soul.

But I hold back because what she needs right now isn’t my lack of control.

Her hands are shaking as she holds on to the side of the tub. I notch her chin higher so I can get a better angle and I lap at her mouth like the rawest of honey. Her lips meld to mine. I savor the taste.

Always so sweet.

My sweet, sweet Nardi.

I don’t want to punish her or anger her. I don’t want to take from her or teach her.

I just want… time.

So I kiss her until time stops.

Until her hand dances up in the air to caress my cheek.

I wrap my fingers around her uninjured wrist and place it back against the tub, giving it a squeeze in a reminder to stay.

And then my hand disappears into the warm water.

Down.

Down.

I submerge my wrist.

My arm.

The water laps all the way up to my elbow before I find her.

Nardi whimpers on impact and it feels like my heart is being squeezed to within an inch of its life. Her eyes burst open and she watches me with surprise and desire dripping from her gaze.

I stare right back at her.

Stay still for a moment.

I want her to see through me. I’ve lied to her since I walked into her apartment today, but I’m not lying about this.

She has to know. She has to acknowledge that this isn’t meaningless. It isn’t a striking off of sex from my bucket list. This isn’t convenience. I’m not here because she happens to be the sister of my legacy.

Every moment I was away from her, I wanted her, needed her, thought of her. In the moments of darkness before the emergency room doctors could bring me back, all I could think about was her.

Not Cullen Tech.

Not my legacy.

Not money or buildings or awards.

It was her.

I close my eyes when I kiss her again. The cadence of our kissing matches the rhythm of my fingers. She moans, slipping lower into the water. If she wasn’t holding on to the edge, she’d probably be submerged.

Her breathing sounds loud to my ears, matching the slap of the water against the tub. I’m making a mess around us as some of the water splashes over the lid onto the tiles, but nothing else matters.

Nothing but me and her.

This is living and dying. Both sides of the same coin. Both paths with one destination.

All roads lead to her.

I open my eyes and watch her, her eyes, her lips. Every sound she makes, every sweet sigh, every tightening of her body, I feel it. I hear it. I tune myself into her frequency and take note of the data she feeds me, building a mainframe that’s just for her.

Coiling tension heats the air.

The splashing of the water gets worse as Nardi’s legs buck. A hot, molten fire burns inside me, traveling from her body to mine. From my body to hers. We’re drenched in water, but it’s not enough to quench the growing, uncontrollable flame.

I can feel it.

It’s too much for her.

She tries to push me away.

I nip at her bottom lip hard enough to sting and then soothe it with my tongue, a silent instruction for her to take it.

Nardi scrambles her nails into the tub hard enough to leave scratches.

So close…

So close…

Her cry echoes through the bathroom, the acoustics making the sound grander and louder. An epic symphony in my ears. She shudders and her arms slip off the sides of the tub and into the water.

I rescue her wrist brace seconds before it hits the surface, but half of me ends up in the tub with her. The disturbed water laps at her chin as Nardi catches her breath. Slowly, her eyes open to meet mine.

“Are you okay?” I ask, crouching over her.

She nods, her eyes darting away.

I tear my gaze off her and reach for the towel. Thankfully, the bathroom is small and I can reach the towel hanging on the rack by leaning forward a bit.

Nardi moves to take it from me and I give her a look that makes her freeze.

Bravely, she stammers out, “I can take it from here. You… you made your point.”

“What point was that?”

Her eyes flit away from mine. “Have you really not been with anyone?—”

“No. You’ll be my first and my last.”

Her eyelashes flutter and she lowers her head. “Don’t say that.”

“Which part?”

“I won’t be your last. You’ll live, Cullen. And you’ll find someone you really like.”

My hand digs into the towel. What does that mean? Does she still think I’m only clinging to her out of convenience? I was so gentle with her, it almost killed me. Did she really not see my heart? Could she really not tell?

A little frustrated and very much fighting my need to have more of her, I wrap Nardi in the towel and help her out of the bathtub. Setting her gently on her feet, I rub her arms briskly over the towel and then grab another towel to dry her hair.

“I can do that, Cullen,” she whispers.

“Enough, Nardi.”

“But—”

“Serving you and pleasing you are my responsibilities. Let me do my job.”

Her jaw drops. I’ve rendered her speechless.

I kiss her one more time, my body primed and my heart racing. She’d moaned against my mouth and the vibrations of her voice left a tingle against my lips.

I want her to feel it.

To know it.

I’m here because my love for her burns me, strips me of my skin, and turns me inside out. She dug herself into my mainframe, created a new code when I wasn’t looking and now every slash, every stroke, every tap of the keys is a hardwiring of my program.

I was made for her.

She was made for me.

It’s just that we found each other too late.

Groaning, I pull back. These kisses aren’t helping my restraint. “Go put on some clothes and I’ll set up your hair dryer.”

She patters away.

I’m frustrated with myself and I lean over the sink, ignoring the pounding in my head. My heart’s racing fast and my adrenaline is rendering the pain meds useless.

Sweat beads on the side of my neck.

I hang my head down as the ache swells from my cranium to my chest. It’s agony.

Images of Nardi’s pleasure, mouth open and limbs loose, fill my mind. It was worth it. Even with this pain, it was worth it.

But I definitely can’t do anything more.

Nardi’s footsteps force me to stand tall and wipe the pained grimace away. She’s dressed in a loose shirt and shorts. She’s dragging a chair behind her and carrying a different towel.

I reach for the towel.

She holds it fast.

“What are you doing?” I ask, watching her intently.

“Taking your shirt off,” she grumbles.

I grab her hand when she starts to unbutton. “Nardi.”

“What? You don’t like being on this side of the fence? Well, I don’t like owing debts.”

“I’m not a bank. You don’t owe me anything.”

She just keeps unbuttoning.

I truly didn’t come over here intending to touch her. I just… wanted to speak to her. Give her a hug. Inhale her scent.

The last thing I expected was for her to be standing in her doorway in a robe, water glistening down her neck and her big brown eyes sparkling with happiness to see me.

The beast inside was hungry, demanding I make Nardi mine.

It’s still hungry. Which is why I don’t stop her.

The last button pops free and Nardi shrugs the shirt off my shoulders. Her eyes skate to the incision marks from my surgery. They didn’t heal well and the tissue is mangled and bulging, a bright, irritated pink.

She exhales shakily. I know she must have questions, but she doesn’t ask anything. Instead, she takes the towel and gently dots at my arms and sides where the water from the tub had splashed.

My Adam’s apple bobs as she sponges down my body.

Nardi glances at the wet splotches on my pants and hesitates.

I take the towel from her and dot at them myself. Doctor’s instructions or not, I won’t be able to hold myself back if she starts patting down there.

“Does it still hurt?” Nardi asks quietly.

I stop what I’m doing and look at her. Her eyes are fixed on the incision mark.

“No,” I admit.

“It looks like it does.”

The headache hammering my skull hurts more than these scars. I run a hand over my beanie, hiding my face from her as the pain flashes again. I need to get a handle on my expressions or Nardi will know something’s wrong.

“It hurt more to have a piece of my lung removed.”

“You only have one lung?”

“I have two but a significant portion was shaved off. That’s why I can’t shout. It physically hurts.”

“Will you ever be able to shout?” Nardi asks thoughtfully.

“Everyone’s symptoms are different. They may go away. They may not.”

“May I?” Nardi asks, reaching out a hand to my incision scars.

I nod.

She slides her fingers over the mark. “Can you feel that?”

“It’s still my skin, Nardi.” I smile.

She meets my eyes. “I like your scars.”

“Really?”

“I have a few of my own.”

I want to ask to see them, but she speaks first, “Why did you pass out that day, Cullen?”

I look down. This woman is like a dog with a bone. “I had chest pain.”

“Chest pain? So it’s different from your lungs, right? It has nothing to do with your… with illness?”

I choose my words carefully. “The lungs aren’t that far from the chest. One can impact the other and, unfortunately, that’s the case for me.”

She chews on her bottom lip. “Were you alone? In the hospital?”

I pause.

“The first time you were diagnosed,” Nardi clarifies.

I breathe in relief. “Yes.”

“Where were your parents?”

“Gone,” I say simply.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s life.”

“Were you close to them?”

“My mom was a saint,” I say, taking a seat. Standing this long is making the room spin. “She was kind and quiet. Always ready to help without expecting anything in return. But one summer, she got sick and she sent me to live with my dad. They were divorced and I rarely saw him. So I was excited to live with him.”

I don’t know why I’m telling Nardi this, but the words won’t stop coming.

“I shouldn’t have had such high expectations. Especially when I saw that his house looked like a pig sty. He had a drinking problem. The guy was mean sober, but he was frightening when he was drunk.”

“Did he hit you?” Nardi asks, crouching in front of me.

I can’t stand to see her uncomfortable like that, so I start to get off the chair, offering for her to take it instead of me.

To my surprise, Nardi crawls into my lap.

“Don’t stare at me like that, Cullen. I’m declaring a truce because you look like you can use a hug. Don’t worry. I’ll go right back to hating you when you finish your story. Now tell me what happened with you and your dad.”

My heart is beating fast and I scramble to hold on to the unpleasant memories when I’d rather focus on the present. Nardi feels soft in my arms and she smells like the shampoo and conditioner I used.

I nuzzle my nose in her hair. “When I was six or seven, my mom told me that my dad wanted to be a computer engineer when he was young. I didn’t know what those words meant at the time, but I decided that’s what I was going to be.”

Nardi laughs softly and her nail traces over my scar.

“But when I went to live with him, I realized that dad wasn’t a computer engineer. He never made it past the first month of college because my mom got pregnant with me and he dropped out. Then my mom divorced him for her own reasons.” I shake my head. “The point is, he didn’t like seeing my interest in computers. He didn’t like that I was good at it. And he hated being reminded of his past failures. He made sure to tell me all of this when he was drunk.”

Nardi frowns.

“He told me that I was nothing special.” I lift my chin because those words still scrape against my soul. “That I would die a failure just like him. He said that was our family curse.”

Nardi’s hands are on my face in an instant. She presses her soft palms into my cheeks. “You know that’s a lie, don’t you?”

I blink. “He might be right. Cullen Tech still hasn’t completed the simulation. Not to mention we’re still fighting a lawsuit. The lawyers haven’t gotten anywhere. If we go to court, we might end up losing everything.”

She clutches my face harder. “You are not a failure, Ronan Cullen. You’re nosy and bossy and rude and lack basic manners, but you aren’t a failure. Look at what you did with Cullen Tech? Look at how many young programmers you’ve inspired. Including my brother. Even if you die tomorrow,” she flinches, “not that you will…”

She has no idea.

“… you won’t die a failure.”

I lean my forehead against hers, stopping just short of kissing her. If I do, I won’t be able to stop and that won’t be good for either of us.

“You want to know a secret?” I ask.

She nods.

“I know it’s worse for women, but when I lost my hair during treatment…” I pause. “I was more annoyed than when I got sick.”

Her eyes flit to my beanie. “Is that why you always wear those?”

“The hair hasn’t grown back in places. It’s patchy. It makes the shape of my head look…” I shake my head, too frustrated to finish the list of complaints. “Better just to cover it up.”

“Can I see it?”

I hesitate. I don’t really care about my looks, but my hair is a sore spot.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Nardi says gently.

Realizing I’m being ridiculous, I remove my beanie and offer my head for her inspection. Nardi pushes herself up and, in doing so, she straddles me.

I inhale deeply, training my eyes away from her chest.

Then I inhale again when her fingers slide over my scalp.

“I don’t know,” Nardi says, sitting back down and looking up at me with a smile, “I think you look handsome.”

My heart glows. Am I dreaming right now? Am I in the hospital, loopy on meds, so delirious that I’m experiencing a fantasy?

You’ll die a failure and you’ll bring her down with you.

The voice that sounds like dad’s has a point.

I look at Nardi’s open, trusting face.

You say you love her, but the closer you two get, the harder it will be on her.

“Cullen?” Nardi’s eyes search mine.

The headache is getting worse.

Nausea swims through my gut.

It’ll hurt her more if she lets you all the way in, Cullen. You can’t protect her if she loves you too.

I stiffen, grip her upper arm and steer her off me. Although it hurts, I stand and walk out of the bathroom, putting distance between us.

“Cullen.” Nardi follows me, holding my wet shirt in her grip.

I take the shirt from her. “I promised the team I’d get an in-person status report. I should get ready for that.”

Nardi frowns. “Cullen, you’re sweating.”

“I’m fine. It’s just hot.” I turn to the door but my knees buckle on the way.

The room is spinning.

I push forward anyway. If I stay with Nardi, I’ll be tempted to tell her what really happened at the hospital. I’ll tell her about the test results. I’ll tell her what the doctor said about my lungs. About how much time I have left.

And I can’t do that to her.

A moment later, I feel her fingers clamp around my wrist. She gives a mighty tug. “Sit down. Catch your breath before you go down all those stairs.”

I resist her. “I appreciate your concern, but we had a deal, Nardi. I don’t want your pity or your understanding. I haven’t asked for any of that.”

Her nostrils flare. “Hating you and not wanting you to die halfway down the stairs aren’t mutually exclusive. Sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

There’s a knock on the door. Nardi heads there and flings the door open only to jump back a second later. On high alert, I push to my feet and assess the woman outside. Something about the visitor’s face makes my eyes blaze to the photo on Nardi’s mantle.

This woman looks like…

“Mom?” Nardi gasps.

“Hello, baby!” A woman who looks just like Nardi springs forward and wraps her in a hug.