Chapter Fourteen
So he’d lost his mind. That was his only excuse for pushing Sassy against the wall of the Bootleg and pressing his mouth to hers like it belonged there.
Now things between were stilted. Messed up. Awkward as hell.
Nick was furious with himself. Why couldn’t he have just let her win the argument?
Why couldn’t he have laughed off that sexy nibbling thing she’d done on his neck and said, Okay.
Okay. You’ve made your point. Then at least they wouldn’t have driven home in silence after he practically frickin’ devoured her.
After he pressed his body into hers so she could see…
so she could feel what her lips, tongue and teeth did to him.
Now she knew. And now he knew how she felt against him. Soft and curvy, sensual and sweet.
He’d found hell. He’d practically leaped there with his own handbasket and presented himself at the gates. ’Sup. My name’s Nick. I just kissed my best friend, the most beautiful woman in the world, and effectively ruined my entire life. Bring on the whips and chains.
He’d thought…he’d actually thought for one mind--blowing moment that she’d wanted him—that for the first time his ill-advised feelings for her weren’t unrequited.
He’d thought that for the first time he wouldn’t have to hide his body’s reaction to her—the one he’d been choking down for years out of fear and respect.
The truth had sunk in real fast when she’d said nothing to him packing his clothes, grabbing Riot and announcing their departure from her house.
As he approached Zephyr Gallery three days later, his feet slowed. They’d been no calls, no texts, nothing between them.
It was the longest they’d ever gone without talking.
He looked down at the items he’d brought along, hoping they would be enough to get him through the door. Normally, Sassy couldn’t turn down a free lunch.
Things were far from normal, thanks to him, but he had to try. He needed to get back in her good graces, because life without her sucked.
He swung the door to the gallery open before his second thoughts got the better of him and nearly ran into Fletcher.
The man drew up short at the sight of him. “Hey,” he said. “It’s Nick, isn’t it?”
Nick nodded stiffly. The guy had all the wrong vibes. That was something he hadn’t changed his mind about since the Bootleg. “What are you doing here?”
Fletcher jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I was just dropping off the piece Sassy asked for. For the Colton auction?”
Nick lifted his chin in understanding. “So you’re going through with it?”
Fletcher jerked a shoulder. “Why not, if it helps me get through the door? An exhibition at Zephyr Gallery isn’t anything to sniff at. I’m grateful Sassy’s even considering my work for her space.”
“Right,” Nick said. “I hope it works out for you.”
Fletcher smiled thinly. “Thanks. I guess I’ll see you at the fundraiser?”
Nick nodded. “I’ll see you.” He waited until Fletcher made his getaway, following his departure through the glass.
He’d left the suit at home this time, at least. Instead, he was wearing dark-washed jeans and Jordans that probably went for five hundred dollars on eBay.
Was that a peacoat he was wearing? It was black and double-breasted.
Nick wondered how much it had set him back, too.
Fletcher came to a stop on the driver’s side of a parallel-parked Stingray. The car wasn’t at all subtle. Nick watched until Fletcher had driven off before going to find Sassy.
Soledad waved from her position in the main showroom, where she was leading a customer around the current exhibit. He lifted his hand silently then nodded toward the floating staircase up to the second floor.
She nodded before turning her attention back to the customer.
He took the stairs slowly, practicing what he wanted to say in his head. I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. It was a misstep, a fluke, and it will never happen again. Can we just forget it ever happened and go back to the way things were? I miss you. I miss you so goddamn much, Sassy.
He would get on his knees. He’d grovel, if necessary. Anything to erase the last few days.
He found her behind her desk, wearing the reading glasses she rarely let anyone see. She tapped a pen on the desk as she read through the paperwork in front of her.
Nick tried swallowing past the lump in his throat and gave up before rapping his knuckles against the jamb.
Her eyes lifted from the papers. Behind the glasses, her dark eyes looked overlarge. They widened at the sight of him.
He waited for the smile that normally followed. No dice.
Lifting the brown paper bag in his hand, he said, “Sacrificed a chicken for you.”
She only stared. The pen had ceased its tapping. Her guarded expression remained unchanged.
Nerves beat wings around his stomach. He lowered the bag. “Or, Tony did this morning. Now you get to reap the benefits.”
She glanced from him to the greasy bag and back. Finally, she leaned back in her chair, setting the pen down on top of the papers. “I’ll take it.”
He almost bounded across the space to her desk, setting the bag down on the edge. “I grabbed extra Whoa Daddy sauce for you.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, watching him unroll the bag and take out the Styrofoam-encased offerings. It wasn’t until he tugged a bottle of Diet Coke from his jacket pocket, though, that a smile touched the corners of her mouth.
He set it down amid the impromptu feast. “I’ve got napkins here,” he said, pulling them out of his other pocket.
“Nick.”
“Did I forget anything?” he asked, studying the tableau carefully to be sure she wouldn’t need anything else.
“Nick,” she said again.
He met her gaze. She’d taken off her glasses. They dangled from one hand, much like his chances. He pulled in a bracing breath. “Yeah?”
“Sit down,” she invited. “Eat with me. There’s enough for both of us.”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “Nah. I’m good. They fed me at River House this morning.”
She hesitated, then tugged one of the Styrofoam takeout containers closer to her. “How’s your mom?”
“She’s walking now that the weather’s warmer, just around the park. Mr. Kincaid and an attendant go with her once a day.”
“He is sweet on her.”
“I’m not sure she’s noticed,” Nick considered. He wasn’t sure how much his mother was aware of. She’d seemed frazzled this morning, convinced that she’d lost her purse.
She’d stopped keeping a purse when she’d moved into River House and Nick took over her financials.
Worst of all, she’d asked for her pills. Nick had checked with Ms. Porter to be sure his mother had received her medication that morning. She had, which meant she’d either forgotten or she’d been looking for the prescription pain meds she’d become dependent on after his father’s death.
It had broken Nick’s heart a little more, watching her search for something that wasn’t there.
“You don’t have to go,” she murmured, dripping Whoa Daddy sauce on her wings from a spoon.
He frowned. “Sure about that?”
She nodded slowly. “Stay.”
He drew up a seat. For a while, he just watched her eat with his elbows braced on his knees and his hands laced between them.
She’d skipped breakfast. He could tell by the way she scarfed. Soon, there was little left but bones, a quarter cup of coleslaw and some balled-up napkins. She downed the Diet Coke and wiped her face. “I guess we need to talk about the other night, huh?” she asked finally.
“If you’re up to it,” he replied.
She closed the Styrofoam containers one by one. “I don’t like not speaking to you.”
“I don’t like it, either,” he admitted.
“I need you, Nick,” she said, her gaze colliding with his. She looked a little tired, as if she hadn’t slept any more than he had over the last few days.
“I need you, too,” he asserted.
At once, they both said, “I’m sorry.”
She frowned. “Wait. Why’re you apologizing?”
He fumbled, confused. “I was going to ask you the same question.”
“I kissed you,” she reminded him.
“No,” he argued, “I kissed you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So…you’re not mad at me?”
He laughed nervously. “I thought you were angry at me.”
She shook her head. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t pushed you up against the side of a building and…”
The blood sank swiftly to his groin at the memory of what she had done to him. He shifted in his seat, crossing his ankle over his knee. “I took it a step further. Way further than I should have.”
Spots of color appeared in her cheeks. He saw it licking the surface of her neck and fought a groan at the sight. She remembered, too.
Sassy cleared her throat, looking down at the empty containers. “I’ve been trying to get up the courage to tell you that I’d like to start over. Forget the whole thing happened.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, coming to the edge of his chair. “I want the same thing.”
Her expression was almost plaintive as she scanned him again. “It didn’t mean anything. Right?”
“Absolutely right,” he said, nodding vigorously. It was a blatant lie, but he’d agree to anything to make things right between them again.
“Okay,” she said. “I guess that’s settled.”
He beamed stupidly at her for a moment. Then he reached into his pocket. “You left this at the Bootleg.”
She stared at the offering in his hand. “You found this where?”
“The Bootleg,” he repeated. “It was on the table when I went back in to pay for the pitcher. Right where you were sitting.”
She didn’t reach for the silver-and-turquoise cuff. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Small lines dug between her brows as she shook her head. “That’s not possible,” she breathed.
“Why not?” he asked. “I thought it looked familiar. Is it Soledad’s?”
“It’s mine,” she clarified. “I just thought I left it here on my desk a week ago. It’s been missing for days. How did it wind up on our table at the Bootleg?”