Chapter Fifteen #2
Vi stood, giving Lydia a tight smile. “Lydia, I’m so sorry, but I have to get back to work. How about I come over tonight and—wait! I have to pick up those pamphlets from the bakery, Heath got a new design. And I promised my neighbor I’d trim her hedges. But after that—”
A throat cleared behind her.
Vi turned, prepared to add yet another thing on her plate. Then she faltered.
Nick Wicker raised his dark brows. He was wearing yet another button-down, crossing his arms so his muscles bulged obscenely through the supple material. Vi had to tear her eyes away from them before she did something stupid, like bite his biceps right here in the middle of the café.
“Nick,” Vi said, surprised. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough,” Nick said. He craned his head toward the counter. “Hey, Emma!”
It was loud enough that the café fell, well, not silent, but significantly quieter. Tourists stopped pulling on Arthur’s glossy mane, Gabriella looked over from her conversation with the mayor, and Hazel stopped sweeping up the plate while trying not to cry.
Emma looked up from the coffee machine with a scowl. “I’m a little busy here, Wicker!”
“Uh-huh,” Nick called. “Hey, there’s nothing fancy about the quiz, right? Just operating a slideshow and reading off a laptop?”
Emma narrowed her eyes. “Yeah. Why, you volunteering?”
“You bet,” Nick said easily, ignoring how Vi’s mouth dropped open. “Which night? Monday or Wednesday?”
“Wednesday.”
Nick snapped his fingers. “You got it.”
Luna Musgrove walked past, smelling of the air freshener they kept in the café bathroom. Nick grabbed her arm, swinging her around as she squeaked in surprise.
“Luna,” he said, “you need a butt in a chair at the front desk? I don’t know how to work your computer systems but I can answer the phone and take notes for you guys to sort out when you get back.”
“Oh, I actually . . .” Luna trailed off, looking toward Vi expectantly. Whatever she saw made her blink, and she turned back to Nick with a bright smile. “Done! I’ll see you Saturday.”
Nick let her go and turned to Lydia. “Lydia! Vacuum lady. I can come over after work tomorrow and get that shit sorted. Unless your house is such a mess that it’s a tonight job?”
“Tomorrow would be great,” Lydia said. “Thanks, Nick.”
“Cool,” Nick replied. “Well, see you!”
He didn’t even look at Vi. He just walked out into the cool afternoon air, his shoulders tighter than usual, but otherwise totally normal.
Vi gaped after him for a moment, then realized that she looked like an idiot and snapped her jaw shut.
She did a quick check to make sure nobody was staring—thankfully, everybody had gone back to their regularly scheduled conversations, including Gabriella—and then ran out after him.
* * *
“Nick!” Vi called as she hit the street. “Hey!”
He didn’t stop. Actually, he picked up the pace. Vi laughed incredulously and wove around a group of tourists to tap Nick on the back.
“Hey!” Vi said, louder.
Nick stopped, turning around to look at her expectantly, like he didn’t know what she would want to talk to him about.
“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly, partly from the jogging and partly because she was still reeling from what had happened in there.
Nick shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you doing this?” Vi demanded. “I don’t understand.”
Nick scratched his head, still hunching into his shoulders. “Like I said, I wanna get into the community. Help out, whatever. Seemed like a good opportunity.”
He tried to leave again. Vi caught his elbow, ducking in front of him before he could escape.
“Nick,” she said. Then she stopped, struck dumb.
Nobody had ever done something like that for her before.
And it was for her—she was almost sure of it.
Then again, he did look like he wanted to run into traffic rather than stay in this conversation.
Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe she was reading too much into it.
If he wanted more from their arrangement, he would tell her.
Right? Why did she suddenly want that so desperately?
“It means a lot,” Vi said in a rush. “Thank you.”
“Sure,” Nick said quietly. He cleared his throat. “So . . . want to come over later? After work?”
Vi nodded. Then she hesitated. “I have to get Heath’s pamphlets from the bakery. And I should really do some admin at the bookstore.”
“’Course,” Nick said. His mouth quirked up, and some of that trademark Nick Wicker charm came back into his face, knocking Vi breathless yet again.
“See you tonight,” Nick continued. But he didn’t flee immediately, like she had been expecting.
He scratched his stubble, looking into the crowds of tourists streaming around the wintry streets.
Then he reached up and tugged on her hair ribbon, as he sometimes did when she was getting dressed after their trysts.
“Bye,” he blurted.
Then he turned and slipped into the crowd. Vi watched him go, her scalp tingling from the faint pressure. She felt like something momentous had happened and couldn’t convince her brain otherwise.
It doesn’t mean anything, she told herself, as she had to do increasingly often with Nick recently. It doesn’t. He’s just . . . He’s . . .
Gabriella appeared behind her, knocking their cardigan-clad elbows together. “Hey! I thought you’d gone back to work. What was that about?”
Vi didn’t answer. She was still watching.
“Vi?” Gabriella said. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Vi said automatically, her heart beating hard as she watched Nick walk down the street, his tall head visible over the crowd of tourists. “I’m good. I’m . . .”
She trailed off. Then she realized something: She didn’t have to lie when she said she was good.
There was usually something stressful underneath it—something she’d rather not be doing, or sleep she was missing out on.
But thanks to Nick, she was only her normal level of busy, not an undoable amount.
Vi opened her mouth, unable to hide the surprise as she said honestly:
“I’m really good.”