Chapter 55
Izzy
A noise startles me out of my concentration.
I pause my music, looking at the bed. Nik went to sleep hours ago, but I’ve been awake, working at my desk. I told Katherine
that I’d handle the permit applications for the wedding, since I haven’t done it by myself before, and I need to submit them
soon so they can be processed in time. Aside from the halo of light around my desk, it’s dark in the room. Pinkie the stuffed
bunny stands guard next to my laptop, and a bunch of others are strewn across my side of the bed.
As my eyes adjust to the dark, I hear it again. That whimper.
“Nik,” I whisper, sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s breathing shallowly. I put my hand on his shoulder, stomach fluttering.
He flinches away from my touch. “Don’t.”
“I’m here.” I reach out again. “I’m right here.”
“Don’t,” he repeats, voice hoarse. Scared, almost. “Don’t—Isabelle—”
I turn on the bedside lamp. He’s still asleep, his body shaking. He seemed fine earlier, but this has to be a nightmare. Can
you even have a panic attack while you’re sleeping?
“Nikolai,” I say firmly, shaking his shoulder.
“Please,” he says, but still, he doesn’t open his eyes. A slice of moonlight cuts over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry —”
His voice rises by the end, shattering the quiet. I scramble on top of him and shake his shoulders. “Nikolai. I’m here.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, his breath catching on something close to a sob. “Don’t hurt her.”
I bite my lip hard enough I wince. Maybe he’s dreaming about that night on New Year’s Eve. Maybe it’s something else, something
that never happened but that his mind is trying to twist into reality. I need to find a way to break through to him.
Something comes to mind, but I hesitate. I haven’t said it aloud before, so I don’t know how he’ll react. Odds are, he never
used the name.
He twists underneath me, chest heaving. The sight of the pain on his face, even asleep, slices through me like a knife.
“Kolya,” I say finally. “Kolya, wake up.”
His eyes fly open. I sigh with relief, brushing the hair away from his forehead. Like the other times I’ve seen him panic,
his pupils are blown wide, but this time... he’s crying. My heart sinks straight to my stomach. I touch his cheek.
“There you are,” I whisper. “You scared me.”
He sits up, working his mouth a few times. I slip out of his lap. He didn’t wear a shirt to bed, so I can see the sheen of
sweat on his chest.
“How did you know that name?” he asks, voice cracking.
“I guessed.” I sniffle, reaching for his hand and squeezing. I’d clamber back into his lap, but he’s looking me over like
he’s not sure if I’m real or part of the dream, and I don’t want to upset him further. “Did... did you go by that name?
It’s a nickname for Nikolai, right?”
“It’s what my father calls me.” His mouth twists, clearly remembering something. “Did I hurt you?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Fuck.” He lets his head fall back against the headboard, the tension leaching away from his body. He squeezes the heels of
his hands into his eyes, breath hitching. “I just...”
“You’re okay. You’re safe.” I can’t help it; I pull him into a hug. He’s still shaking, but less violently than before. “What were you dreaming about?”
“I... nothing. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
I blow a bit of hair out of my face. “Nik. Come on.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad I didn’t—”
Someone knocks on the door, interrupting whatever he was about to say.
“Izzy?” Penny says. “Is everything okay?”
“We heard shouting,” Cooper adds.
Nik curses softly. He reaches for his shirt, slipping it over his head.
“I can tell them to go back to bed,” I murmur.
He shakes his head. “Won’t be able to sleep anyway. I don’t want your brother to worry about you.”
After we explain what happened to a bleary-eyed Penny and a wary Cooper, there’s a long, silent minute. Tangerine steps between
our legs, meowing softly. Penny picks her up. She cuddles her close as she stifles a yawn.
Cooper scrubs his hand down his beard. He blinks a few times, as if waking himself up.
“Okay,” he says. “Iz, can you make a pot of coffee? I’ll get the gear in the truck.”
“What gear?” Nik asks.
“Our hockey shit.” Cooper claps him on the shoulder. “You know the key card works twenty-four seven.”
Nik raises an eyebrow. “It’s two in the morning.”
I suppress my smile. Sometimes, when Sebastian would have nightmares—remembering the night his parents died in that horrible car accident—Cooper would take him to the batting cages. Nik mentioned that he told my brother a little about his past, but the simple acceptance of it, not to mention the hand he’s holding out to help Nik recalibrate, means more than he can know.
“What, never had ice time in the middle of the night?” he says. “Come on, I’ll play goalie.”