11. NIXIE
ELEVEN
NIXIE
The morning breeze nips at my cheeks and neck. Beauden found me a moth-eaten flannel buried in the bottom of that old hope chest and gave it to me for the hike down. It’s helping, but my fingers and feet are still freezing, thanks in part to the fact that my shoes didn’t dry out completely.
The one bright spot? Tiberius is okay. That little monster actually wanted to play this morning, and he’s been bouncing around Beauden like the man is made of bacon and squeaky balls.
“Traitor,” I mumble under my breath when my dog doesn’t so much as glance back at me, but I don’t mean it. I’m just lost.
Between waking up on the couch and realizing Beauden must have carried me there — hello, embarrassment — and the quiet way his mood seems to have shifted, I feel so far out of my element that it’s almost laughable.
My foot slips, and I go down with a yelp. It doesn’t really hurt, but Beauden is right there, his fist wrapped tightly around what’s left of Tiberius’s leash as he helps me to my feet with his other hand.
“You okay?” His voice is low and soft, and it does something to my insides that makes me forget how hungry I am. For food, anyway. And his hand is so warm when I take it.
How is that fair?
I nod. “I’m fine.”
His deep brown eyes search mine. “The terrain should smooth out soon. The main trail isn’t far.”
I give him another nod and belatedly realize my hand is still in his. Tugging it free, I tuck it in the too-long sleeve of my fancy new flannel.
“Thanks,” I murmur, looking down at Tiberius.
Beauden doesn’t get moving right away, and I can feel the weight of his gaze on me. It’s heavy and intimate. And honestly, a little terrifying. Because no matter what we lost all those years ago, the man can still excite a storm of butterflies in my stomach.
I’m too much of a coward to meet his eye, so I crouch and scratch Tiberius behind his ears. “Hey, boy,” I whisper.
He reacts by giving me a big, slobbery kiss on my cheek, which actually pulls a laugh out of me. It’s a foreign sound after the chaos of the last twenty-four hours, but it buoys me all the same. Smiling, I wipe the wetness away with my sleeve and finally stand and look at Beauden.
He’s wearing a smirk that tugs at my heart, not to mention other sensitive parts a little lower down. “There she is.”
“Who?” I ask, but I know. He’s talking about me.
Beauden gives a tiny shake of his head and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in that way that used to make me swoon.
It still does.
Instead of saying whatever is clearly on his mind, he glances down the hill. “We should get going. I imagine you two are starving.” When he looks back at me, that smirk is gone, and for one fleeting second, I miss it.
I miss him.
Damn him.
Shoving down the longing that’s rising in me like the coming tide, I shift my crossbody bag and nod. “Yeah, I’m ready to get home.” It’s a lie.
Or a partial lie.
Am I ready for the comfort and safety of my apartment? Absolutely. But the idea of going home and never coming back, never seeing Beauden again, leaves me with a hollow ache that I’m not ready to face.
We make the rest of the hike back to the trailhead in relative silence. I don’t know how long it takes. All I know is that by the time we get there, my feet are tired, I’m hungry as hell, and burying my feelings and fears isn’t working anymore.
Beauden walks Tiberius over to my car and holds out the cut end of his leash, his expression unreadable.
“Here we are. Safe and sound. As promised.”
Is that a hint of sadness I hear in his voice?
Doubtful. He’s probably just tired and ready for this whole ordeal to be over.
Our hands brush as I take the leash, but there’s no flicker of electricity like I read about in my books. It’s more like a bone-deep longing that threatens to swallow me whole.
“Thank you, Beauden. Really.” My throat tightens on the last word. Not because I’m overcome with gratitude, but because this is goodbye— and I don’t want to do this with him again.
We said goodbye once, and it just about broke me.
He dips his head. “Anything for you, Nixie. Always.”
The air leaks out of me slowly. Anything for you. He used to say that. When I asked him to grab me a snack while we were watching a movie. Or when I called and asked him to bring me my favorite soup when I didn’t feel well.
I swallow hard and just stare.
How the hell am I supposed to respond to that?
Part of me is aching to reach out and wrap my arms around him, but I know if I do, I’ll never want to let go. So, I open my car door, shoo Tiberius in, and sink into the driver’s seat with my heart in my throat.
If he really would do anything for me, he would be trying to stop me right now, right? Not just looking at me like he’s not done with me yet.
Neither of us says another word. I back my car out of the parking spot, put it in drive, and give Beauden one last look. Leaning back against his truck with his arms folded over his broad chest, he’s somehow the same boy I knew thirteen years ago and a man I wish I could get to know better.
But I can’t. My heart wouldn’t survive it.
With that cheery thought, I offer him a little wave and drive away.
Why is this so hard? I want to leave. I want to go home. I have a life, a nice apartment, and a thriving business to get back to.
What I need is perspective. I punch the button to call Breigh on the screen on my dash, and drum my fingers impatiently on my steering wheel as I drive waiting for it to connect.
She picks up on the second ring. “Oh my god, Nixie! Please tell me you’re alive,” she yells into the phone.
“Oh, whoa.” I turned the volume down. “How would I be calling you if I wasn’t alive?”
Breigh huffs out a breath. “You know what I meant! Good grief, girl, you had me worried sick. I was about ten minutes away from calling in the cavalry. Did you find him? Is he okay? Are you okay?”
I tackle her rapid-fire questions one at a time. “Yes, yes, and I don’t know.”
She’s silent for a beat, and when she speaks, I hear the hesitation in her voice. “You’re pissed at me, aren’t you?”
I was, and maybe I still should be, but I’m opting to put a pin in that whole situation for a minute. “Can we talk? Over breakfast?”
“Of course. You want to hit the diner?”
And risk running into Beauden again? No thanks.
“Any chance you’d be willing to grab some coffee and bagels and head over to my mom’s? I’m headed back into town now to get cleaned up and feed Tiberius.”
“I’m on it.”
“And Brie?”
“Yeah?”
“ Lots of coffee,” I say, letting how tired I am bleed out through my voice.
“Come on, babe. You know how I roll.” She makes a kissing sound into the phone. “See you soon.”
When she hangs up, I glance in the rearview mirror at Tiberius sitting in the middle of the back seat. Instead of pressing his nose against the window or pacing back and forth from one side to the other, he’s just sitting there, staring back at me.
“Should I be mad at her for tricking me into calling Beauden?”
His floppy ears perk up as much as they can, and he tilts his head a little to one side.
“I’m taking that as a no.” Mostly because I don’t want to be angry with my best friend. And I’m sure, however misguided, her heart was in the right place.
I get back to my mom’s, give Tiberius a big bowl of kibble mixed with wet food, and proceed to take the world’s longest, hottest shower.
“Honey, I’m home.” Breigh’s voice carries through the house, and I hear her playing with Tiberius in the kitchen. But I still give myself another couple of minutes, letting the hot spray pour over my skin.
Why am I even thinking about Beauden right now? Why am I giving him space in my head? I have nothing to be torn up about. He didn’t ask me to stay. He didn’t reach out to give me a hug before I left.
He gave me exactly zero indication that last night meant anything to him. Well, except for that whole ‘anything for you’ line. Which, in hindsight, frustrates me even more.
Flipping the water off, I yank the towel off the hook and rake it over my skin.
Two minutes later, I walk into the kitchen, finger combing my damp hair, to see six gourmet bagels arranged on the counter with three different kinds of cream cheese and a gallon-sized thermos of coffee sitting beside them.
Breigh spins on her stool to face me. “This is an apology.” She motions to the food.
I glare at her half-heartedly. “I’ll only accept if you tell me you brought creamer.”
She gets up, goes over to the fridge, and pulls out a small container of my favorite sweet Italian creamer. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”
“For giving me Beauden’s number without telling me? What do you think?”
She presses her lips together. “Would you believe me if I said he was the best option?”
No.
Yes.
Hell, I don’t know.
It’s not like it matters. So, instead of directing my irritation at her, I snatch a cheesy bagel off the counter and proceed to tell her everything. My stomach is in knots by the time I get to the end, and she’s sitting there with a confused look on her face.
“What do you mean you just left?” she asks.
“I got in my car and drove away.”
It’s pretty self-explanatory.
“He didn’t say anything else?”
I let out a sigh. “There was nothing to say. He helped me, we hate-fucked, we made it down off the mountain in one piece. The end.”
She studies me, her coppery eyes knowing. “If that was the end, why am I here?”
“Because I…”
What? Wanted to vent to my bestie? Needed to tell someone who knows me what happened?
“Because I’m leaving,” I say. “Today. I have a few more papers to sign at the lawyer’s office, then Tiberius and I are heading back to Denver. And I just wanted to see you again before I go.”
Breigh hums under her breath like she knows I’m full of crap. I mean, yeah, I always want to see her, but it’s not like years go by without us talking. We have our weekly wine and video chat, and she crashes with me whenever she needs a city escape, which is at least a couple of times a year.
She leans back in her chair, one manicured eyebrow arched. “Try again, hot stuff.”
I open my mouth to snap back, then close it again. Pulling in a deep breath, I look out through the French doors leading out onto my mom’s back porch.
“I can’t do this again with him.” Tears burn the corners of my eyes, and I blink them back. “I won’t.”
When I glance at Chelle, her expression is filled with care and concern. “Why not?”
The answer sits like a weight in my chest.
Because it’ll hurt too much.
Because I shut that part of myself down after Beauden, and I don’t know how to open it back up.
And mostly, because I’m scared.
“Oh, Nixie.” She slides off the stool and wraps me in a hug. “I’m sorry.”
That’s when the dam breaks. For the second time in less than a day, I find myself choking back sobs that hurt my heart.
When I finally find my voice, it’s weak and watery. “I want to hate him. So much. But I don’t. I’m not sure I ever did. And I just can’t go through it all again.”
She pulls back to look me in the eyes. “Then don’t. If that man isn’t willing to fight to keep you, he doesn’t deserve you.”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I nod. Because she cut straight to the root of my fear with one sentence. I don’t know for sure what I would have said if he’d tried to stop me from leaving when we were at my car. Or if he’d asked me to breakfast. Or even if he could call me later.
I might have said no, but at least I would’ve known he still cared.
It doesn’t matter though, because he didn’t do any of those things. He just stood there and watched me leave.