Chapter 9 Nova #2
“Are you sure?” I peek into the dark hall and carefully walk through my living room to stop by the front door. But I don’t open it wide, and I sure as shit don’t step outside. “It’s getting kinda late, Lincoln. I feel bad.”
“It’s not even eight-thirty,” he teases, the rumble of an engine coming to life on his side of the line, and the crunch of gravel beneath tires following right after. “Are you twenty-seven years old, or eighty-seven? Anyone on this side of fifty isn’t allowed to consider this kinda late.”
“Shut up.” Sniffling, I stare through the glass panes at the side of the door and catch the telltale beam of a car’s headlights coming along the road. They could be anyone’s. They could be no one’s. But my heart stutters and works faster. Because I know they’re his.
As ridiculous as the thought is, I know he’s coming to help.
“H-Have you eaten yet?” I stammer. “Are you hungry?”
“What?”
God. So dumb. So dumb! “I know how cliché this all appears, and knowing my luck, you’ll get here and flip the breaker, and everything will be fine, which’ll make me look insanely stupid. But I was gonna say I could order something. You know, like a thank you for helping me with the power thing.”
“Did you turn the power off so you’d have an excuse to invite me over?” he taunts. “Is this one of those things where you’re too shy to say something outright, so you manufactured a reason to call?”
“No! I—”
“Then you’re having a genuine crisis, and even if the crisis is easily solved, I promise not to consider you stupid or cliché or any other shitty thing you’re thinking. I know Ryan was your guy for home stuff.”
“Really?” I choke out a horrifying sob as his headlights slow out front and turn into my driveway. “You knew that?”
“We were pals, remember? Do you know how many times he told me about talking his baby sister through a home improvement situation? Like the time your dishwasher stopped working.”
“M-my dishwasher?” My stomach jumps as he cuts the light outside and pushes his door open. “You must be thinking of someone else’s annoying sister, because I’m a pro with kitchen appliances. Maybe you mean when the hot water went haywire and flooded my bathroom?”
“Yeah.” He slams his door, one hand pressed to his ear, and the small light of his phone screen illuminates the side of his face.
Then he turns this way and makes a beeline for the porch steps.
“Must’ve been thinking about the hot water system.
That you in the window, Nova?” He stomps up the stairs and across the ten feet to the front door.
“Having glass at your entryway is dangerous. Anyone could smash it and let themselves in, and it removes your privacy, so you can’t ascertain the identity of your visitor without revealing yourself first.”
“You sound just like your proxy.” Damn him.
I end our call and flip the locks for the first time in days.
Dragging the heavy wood open and staring up at the man who stands almost an entire foot taller than me, I find gratitude in the darkness as fresh tears fill my eyes.
“Hey.” My voice shakes pathetically. “Thanks for coming.”
“Permission to do the brotherly thing and pull you in for a hug?” He wraps his broad hand around the back of my head and tugs me closer without waiting for a response, careful not to touch my aching wounds or drying stitches.
Crushing my face against his broad, steady chest, he squeezes just a little tighter when my breath catches.
“You’re doing great.” He rests his cheek on top of my head, warming my scalp with his breath.
“These are all new experiences for you now that he’s gone. You’re doing so well, Nova.”
“He would’ve talked me through fixing the issue.
” I bury my face against his shirt and try, so fucking hard, not to inhale his cologne and create an all-new toxic dependence on a man who won’t stay.
I know he won’t. “I hate how often I cry lately.” Sniffling and pulling back, I wipe my face and avoid his gaze.
“I’m not like this normally. In fact, I pride myself on the there’s no crying in baseball philosophy.
I’m exceptionally gifted at dissociation.
But every time I go to call my brother, or I turn to say something, and remember he’s not there anymore… ”
“I get it.” He sets his hand on my shoulder and folds his neck, his black eyes like a light, almost, in the dark shadows. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
“Bet no one cries at war.” I back away, forcing his hand to fall before I embarrass myself more. “You’re probably accustomed to men charging toward actual life-and-death stuff. But here I am, a blubbering idiot because the power went out.”
“First of all.” He crosses the threshold and closes the door.
“I have seen men cry at war. More than a few times. I don’t judge them for their emotions during the scariest fucking minutes of their lives, and I won’t judge you for the same.
And second, I have a sister, remember? She calls me for the same reasons you called Ry, and if, for whatever reason, I’m not around to help her out, I’d like to think a friend would swing by and make her feel safe without judgment.
I’d break his fucking hands for hugging her and thinking she’s kinda pretty,” he admits with a chuckle.
“But the helping her bit? I’d want that. ”
He thinks I’m pretty.
Goddammit, he thinks I’m beautiful.
“You blush, even in the dark, Nova Nichols.” He feathers the tips of his fingers across my cheek before stepping around and wandering through my house. “It’s endearing as hell and confusing right along with it.”
“Confusing?” Like an eager little puppy, I follow him to the kitchen and past the table in the middle. “Why is it confusing?”
“Because I’m the proxy brother, remember?
” He stops by my back door, wrapping his hand around the knob, but glancing back to search my eyes.
“I don’t think brotherly things when I look at you.
Which is wildly inappropriate, not only because I know Ry would Hulk Smash me for it, and not even because you have absolutely no interest in entertaining non-brotherly stuff right now, but because your electric box isn’t the only thing going through a crisis.
That makes me a shitty person. While you’re fighting to catch your breath and trying your hardest to get through another day, it seems I’m more interested in flirting with a pretty girl and coaxing a smile to her lips.
” His eyes flash with regret before he turns to pull the door open.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.
Stay here.” He crosses the threshold and moves into the dark.
“I’ll fix your power real quick and get you back on track. ”
“Wait!” Panic propels me forward before he can close the door. “I don’t wanna stay inside alone.”