Chapter 33
Emily drew closer to Nicolas and could smell the scent of wine. She looked at David who dragged him inside the house. “Why is he like this?”
“Business function,” David replied. “It went on for longer than expected, so he kept having to drink more than usual.”
She ushered the assistant to Nicolas’s room.
Nicolas snored lightly as he rolled onto his side, digging his face further into the comforter. She couldn’t erase the image of how cute he looked in that moment. Her concern was momentarily overshadowed.
She smiled at David. “Thank you for bringing him home.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said before leaving out the door.
Emily’s eyes went to Nicolas. His body was still, apart from the steady rise and fall of his chest. Her eyes trailed down to the pair of shoes onto his feet and went to take them off. After that, she struggled to remove his suit and tie.
“Come on!” She groaned, finally pulling the last of the material from beneath his arm.
Panting heavily, she was about to head to her room after covering his body with the comforter, but a hand grabbed her wrist.
She looked down to see Nicolas staring up at her with pleading eyes.
“Stay.”
Her body shook with the one word. Hearing the vulnerability in his voice, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything else.
She sat beside him on the bed. Even while wasted and disheveled, he was beautiful.
After minutes of appreciating Nicolas who drifted into a nap, she dozed off. Then later, a hand was on her leg. She jumped in panic.
“It’s just me.”
Nicolas’s voice calmed her immediately. His hand ran up and down the length of her leg. Soft hums left him. It was fascinating. He looked so relaxed, all his defenses stripped away, a side of him she rarely saw.
“Em?” he whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Come here.”
She tilted her head at him. “You should get some rest.”
“I’m alright.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite touch his eyes.
She caved. As her form got impossibly closer, her heartbeats stuttered when he rested his chin atop of her head. “What are you doing?”
He hugged her tighter. “Let me hold you for a minute. Just one.”
Emily sighed in resignation. Her hand traced circles on his chest as he held her. His hand slowly traveled to her hair and slipped it out of the ponytail holder. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders. Nicolas dug his face into it, making her giggle at his eagerness.
“I love the smell of your hair,” he slurred like it was his own personal drug.
“Mmm…really?”
“Mm-hmm,” he mumbled. “Would it be weird if I asked what shampoo you use?”
She chuckled. “Not weird at all. Oribe.”
His chest vibrated in delight, face still nuzzling her hair. “I don’t know what that is, but I’ll be buying you hundreds of bottles.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re gorgeous.”
He was looking down at her with the softest expression she’d ever seen from this man. From any man.
They still hadn’t talked about what their kisses and other moments of intimacy meant, but it was clear they had unknowingly changed the terms of their contract. They had meant a lot. At least they had to Emily.
“You cut your hair.”
She bit down onto her lip. “I thought you didn’t notice.”
“I notice everything about you.”
Her heart hammered against her chest. “Do you like it?”
For some reason, that had been a concern of hers when she went to the salon to get it cut to shoulder length.
Nicolas nodded without reservation. “Yes, it’s been my latest obsession. I can’t take my eyes off you.”
A shy smile tugged on her lips before he closed his eyes again. He ran his hand through her hair and she couldn’t help but sigh in contentment.
God, being with him like this beats any form of therapy.
“I thought you’d dislike it because you like to play with my hair a lot.”
“You haven’t gone bald, Emily,” he said, deadpan.
She couldn’t help the god-awful, strangled sound that left her. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“And even if you had, I’d still kiss the top of your head like I always do.”
“Nicolas…”
“Shhh…” he hushed, still holding on to her like his last hope. “Just one more minute. I swear.”
She sighed, but her ears perked up when she heard him start humming a familiar tune. It was Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” A classic. Of course, his taste in music could not be rivaled.
“Emily?” he whispered, knocking her out of her reverie.
She raised her face to his, knowing something serious was coming with her nickname gone. “Yeah?”
Before she could prepare for it, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
Her stomach fluttered. She was glad that he was finally taking liberties with her.
Nicolas’s lips pressed harder against hers, breath mingling, with a desperation that left her trembling.
She couldn’t help but let him kiss her. In any way he wanted. As much as he wanted.
Once he pulled away, he breathed, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
He could ask her deepest, darkest secrets and she’d tell him. That was how spellbound she was.
“I’ve asked this question over a hundred times in my head, but none of the answers matter unless they come from you. Tell me, Emily…” He swallowed harshly. “Are you going to be my beginning or my ending?”
Her stomach sank.
Philosophical Nicolas.
She understood the weight of his question.
Emily wished it was as black and white as he made it out to be.
She wanted to ask him the same thing. She was desperate to be a phoenix rising from the ashes after Jake’s betrayal.
If Nicolas did something to break her newfound trust in him, she’d tumble back into the fragile embers of herself.
She couldn’t imagine the pain of it all.
It was an undeniable truth that she’d been falling for him. And yet…even after acknowledging the risk of it, for all the destruction he could bring, the fire she might be tossed into, Emily still felt herself desiring him.
“I’ll be both,” she finally whispered. Her eyes found his. She saw a depth to them, so magnificently unwavering, it looked like he’d stopped breathing. “I’ll be your beginning and your ending, Nicolas.”
“Why?”
What did he mean by why?
“Why would you do that?” he continued. “Why would you allow me that, Emily? I’m not worthy of you. I’m not the kind of man who deserves someone as…as good as you.”
She laughed hollowly. “I’m not a good person. I married you to get revenge on my ex-fiancé.”
“He got someone else pregnant. The fucker deserves it.”
Her hand went up to cup his cheek, not at all surprised he’d found that bit out. “What I’m trying to say is nobody’s perfect. Not you. Not me.” She held his gaze. “You ask me why? Because I’m willing to give our imperfections a shot at becoming something that feels like it’s perfect.”
He leaned into her hand, eyes misting. She smiled at the act. “And what’s the point of having a beginning without an equally satisfying ending? As your partner, I should be able to deliver that much even if it’s only for a year.”
“A year,” he mumbled.
Her smile faltered at the sullen look on his face. She felt like she’d said something wrong. But they hadn’t discussed anything different even with all the kisses and touches.
“I—”
“You consider me your partner?” he croaked, hands wrapping around hers as the weight of her words finally landed.
“Yes, at least for now.”
His lips twitched, but his eyes showed the satisfaction he felt at her answer. Then they dimmed as if he remembered something.
“For now.”