Chapter Seventeen #2
“I live to serve,” said Nick cheerily. He dried his hands on his jeans and asked Vi, “Can you handle this without me?”
“I’ll survive,” Vi said.
“Awesome.” Nick paused, like he wanted to say something else. Then he looked over at Luna and cleared his throat, lifting an arm above his head like he was lifting a sword. “Giant block of ice in Duncan’s garage, you will be vanquished!”
With that, he jogged out of the kitchen. Luna turned to watch him go, her eyes sparkling with mirth that definitely spelled trouble.
Vi went back to the drying rack. “Where’s Oliver?”
“Arguing with Heath over the best kind of pastry,” Luna replied sweetly. “I don’t know why he thinks he’ll win. Heath literally owns the bakery.”
She sidled up to the sink and leaned against it. Predictably, she didn’t pick up the scrubbing brush, only watched as Vi dried and stacked the cups.
“Soooo,” Luna said smugly. “Nick likes helping, huh?”
“He wants to get out in the community,” Vi said.
Luna snorted dismissively.
“What?” Vi demanded. “It’s sweet!”
Luna gave Vi a disbelieving look. “Vi! He swoops in and saves you from all your crazy commitments! I heard you had a whole evening off the other day. That’s wild! I tell you to take breaks, but he makes you take one. By stealing all those tasks we keep piling on you! That’s so romantic!”
“It’s not romantic,” Vi said, far too shrill. She cleared her throat and searched for more dishes to dry, but there were none. She reached for the scrubbing brush, only for Luna to slap her hand away.
“Ow,” Vi said. She rubbed her hand. “Lu, he doesn’t like me like that. Trust me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes! If he liked me, he would ask me out. And he hasn’t. He’s had a million and one chances, with the book club and the . . . the other times we hang out,” Vi finished awkwardly, stumbling over her words.
Luna squealed. “You guys hang out?”
“Sometimes,” Vi said hastily. “Not often. We’re both so busy nowadays.”
It was true. Most of their trysts had to happen late at night, after all their commitments were over.
It was getting harder for Vi to peel herself out of bed, or to make Nick leave her place.
It would be so much easier if they broke their no-sleeping-over rule, as they had that first night.
But the longer their arrangement went on, the more Vi thought those rules were sensible.
If she started sleeping over, it would get all the more difficult to ignore the crush stirring in her chest.
“Even if he did ask me out,” Vi said, picking crumbs off the sink, “I’m . . . I’m not interested.”
“Yes, you are,” Luna crowed. “Look at you, all blushy!”
She pinched Vi’s cheek. Vi leaned away, unable to fight down a giggle as Luna linked their elbows together.
“He’s so dreamy and charming,” Luna whispered, squeezing Vi’s arm. “And he spoke sooo highly of you when he covered our front desk.”
“He did?” Vi asked, her voice traitorously hopeful.
“He said he’s glad you don’t hate him anymore,” Luna said. “And that you were lovely. And smart. And a good friend.”
“A good friend,” Vi repeated, locking her hopes back down where they belonged. “See?”
Luna swatted her arm. “A good friend to other people. You should have seen his face when he talked about you. He was totally lovesick! He got all weird and squirrelly about you after that.”
“Squirrelly?”
“Nervous,” Luna said. “Like a schoolboy with a crush. It was adorable.”
Or like he was trying not to let on that we have a secret sex arrangement, Vi thought.
She reached for the scrubbing brush again, only for Luna to grab it out of her hands. “Vi, come on! Stop doing somebody else’s chores and go out and enjoy the last of the winter sun.”
* * *
Vi emerged into the chilly yard, wiping her damp hands on her skirt. Her mind whirled: He’s weird and squirrelly about you. Luna was probably reading into things too much. Still, Vi couldn’t help those vain hopes fluttering around in her chest.
She liked Nick. Really, really liked him. She liked him so much, she couldn’t believe she had hated him a little over a month ago. But he seemed totally happy with their arrangement, and she wasn’t about to ruin it over a stupid crush.
Somebody laughed loud enough to jolt Vi from her thoughts. She looked around to see that everyone was still in their little friendship groups, and Vi didn’t know any of them well enough to budge in.
She eyed a dirty plate longingly. She could start gathering them, bring them into the kitchen, and hope that Luna had left. Or she could go help Nick with the ice chips?
A familiar voice made her stop. She turned to find Nick and his coworker Wyatt standing at the edge of the yard, Chicha the Doberman beside them.
“I j-just don’t know what she w-wants from me,” Wyatt said, voice thick. “W-we used to t-talk. We n-never t-talk anymore.”
“That sounds rough,” Nick said quietly. He petted Chicha absentmindedly, his focus on Wyatt.
“I just w-wish she’d t-tell me what was w-wrong,” Wyatt continued. “W-we can s-sort it out. At l-least, I th-think we can. I d-don’t know if she th-thinks that anymore.”
“Shit, man. I’m sorry.” Nick hesitated. Then he laid a large hand on Wyatt’s shoulder.
Wyatt sniffed. “It’s okay. Th-thanks for l-listening, man.”
“Yeah, of course.” Nick squeezed his shoulder.
Wyatt sniffed again. He gave Nick a one-armed hug, then set off toward the food table. The barbecue had closed down for the night, but there were still some fresh patties and hot dogs piled up and waiting.
Vi waited for Wyatt to be out of earshot. Then she headed up to Nick, whose hands were dark green with cold from chipping ice in the garage.
“That was fast,” Vi said, nodding at his hands.
Nick snorted, rubbing Chicha’s neck. “Betty—Duncan’s wife—didn’t trust me with the knife. I handle sharp tools every day, but whatever.”
“Yeah, and you have more than a few scars.” Vi watched his hand move on the dog’s fur, remembering the feel of those huge, calloused hands on her hips, roving down her thighs.
She reached down to pet Chicha, who turned happily toward her, tongue lolling.
Vi almost didn’t notice. She was too busy watching Nick’s hands, so close to her, she could reach out and touch them.
“That sounded like a good talk,” she said quietly.
Nick twisted, watching Wyatt chew a hot dog across the yard. “Yeah. It was. He’s so jokey at work, he doesn’t really . . . open up.”
He winced, turning his attention back to Chicha. Her tail wagged, happy to once again be getting double pats.
“That’s what happens when you see each other after hours,” Vi said, and yawned.
Nick looked up. “Are you tired?”
Vi nodded, rubbing her cold arms through her jacket. “I might head out soon.”
“Cool.” He gave Chicha one last scratch. “I can drop you off. Bye, Chicha.”
“We came here separately,” Vi reminded him.
Nick’s face dropped. He must’ve been looking for an excuse to leave, Vi realized.
“Shit,” he said. “Right. Later, buddy.”
It was the buddy that did it. Vi caught him by the front of his tank top before he could get away. She lowered her voice. “Was that a come-on?”
“Maybe,” Nick said. He glanced at his watch. “It is late. And we have the no-sleepover rule.”
For a moment, Vi considered telling him to screw the rule.
That rules were made to be broken. That sounded like something he would be into.
But she was the one who’d put them in place, and she didn’t want to know what would happen if she got used to waking up next to Nick Wicker.
She’d get a taste for it. And it would hurt when their fun ended.
Vi stepped closer. She didn’t touch him again. She didn’t dare. Just stood there, watching his pupils swell and his lips part around his fangs.
“I can stay up late,” she said. “You?”
“Love staying up late.”
She grinned. “Great. I’ll leave now. You leave in five. Meet at mine.”
He nodded. Vi strutted out, so eager for their rendezvous that it didn’t occur to her that she hadn’t said goodbye to the hosts until she was already halfway home.