Chapter 39
Calvin
After the best fucking blow job of my life, Nikita and I lay side-by-side doing something that just adds to the growing intimacy between us.
We talk.
I would never describe myself as someone that is very forthcoming when it comes to sharing anything of substance, but with Nikita, it’s different. Apart from the witty banter between us, we are able to share deeper parts of ourselves. There is a great balance between on-the-surface conversations that has us both laughing and shifting back to stories that explain a lot more about what makes us who we are.
“I sprained my finger when I was seven,” Nikita says, rolling over onto her stomach and grabbing a pillow to wrap her arms around.
We have both abandoned our task of getting any sleep, so I have turned on the lamp next to my side of the bed. The warm light illuminates the room which means I can see her again. Her hair sits in a messy bun on her head, the hair she made sure to tie up before wrapping her lips around my cock. In this light, there is more brown than green in her eyes and I am starting to notice the light freckles across her nose and cheeks. They are subtle, but I notice them.
“What were you doing?” I ask.
“Jay forced me to play goalkeeper while he practiced taking penalties.”
I laugh, “I would pay good money to see that.”
“I’m actually better than you might think,” she says with a matter-of-fact tone in her voice, “My sprained finger was actually from the save I made.”
I prop my elbow up, resting my head in my hand. “You sacrificed your finger to make a save? Please tell me you went pro.”
“Whatever.” She reaches out and gives me a playful shove, making me laugh. I drop my head off my elbow and play into the farce that she is strong enough to do just that.
“I didn’t know you were this strong.” Her eyes roll as I shift closer to her, laying my head down to look up at her.
“If you want to see real strength, then you should see my self-control which I’ll now be implementing for the rest of this trip.”
“Yeah, right.”
She taps my nose. “Don’t challenge me, Rhodes. You know I love proving people wrong.”
“You and me both, sweetheart.”
Her eyes roll again, a smile pulling on her lips. I am well-aware that there aren’t a lot of hours left until we have to be up, but I don’t want to sleep. I am more interested in seeing what more I can learn about her.
“Did Jay say anything about your apartment?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s fucked. I can’t live there and since my lease is up next month, I have to find a new place.”
“But they’re going to pay you out for the damages, right?”
She shrugs, “Mario’s taking a look at my lease to see what my options are.”
“Will you be staying by Jay?”
“I don’t know. He said I can, but there’s a lot I need to figure out.” She sighs and rests her chin on the pillow, peering at me as I drop my head to the side. “That’s next week’s problem.”
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
“Doesn’t what scare me?”
“Knowing you’re putting off something that’s inevitable?”
“Absolutely.” She exhales a laugh, but there is no humor in it, “But I also know that there’s quite literally nothing I can do about it right now, so why put myself through worrying about it?”
I eye her, carefully trying to get a read on why it feels like her words don’t quite match up to how she truly feels.
“Is that the truth?” I ask, softly.
Her eyes narrow on me, “Why do you think I’m not telling the truth?”
I have picked up that much like me, Nikita becomes defensive when faced with questions that require honesty. I am not pushing and prying for the fun of it.
I care about Nikita now.
“There’s a difference between still acknowledging what’s heading your way and pretending it doesn’t exist until you absolutely have to.”
I wait to see how she will react, hoping that she’ll realize I am not coming from a place that wants to make her feel like shit. I want to know where she’s at because if there’s anything I can do to make things better for her, I will.
And that terrifies the fuck out of me.
I move my hand over to hers, brushing my fingers up against hers. “I’m here, Nikita. If you want to talk, I’m here to listen, that’s all.”
She sighs, her eyes dropping to where our hands sit. “I think I preferred when you weren’t interested in me.”
My lips pull into a small smile, “Then you shouldn’t have shown me what I was missing.”
Her eyes flick to meet mine, emotion swimming in those big eyes of hers, “I know there’s a lot I have to figure out when I get back, but I don’t know where to start. I don’t even know what I want, which is why I feel so lost.”
I wrap my fingers around hers, using my thumb to caress the back of her hand.
“I envy people who have always known what they’ve wanted out of life. Jay, you - hell, I’m sure everyone attending this damn wedding knows, but me?” She shakes her head, “It’s annoying as hell, but it’s how I feel. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m floating through life constantly feeling like I have no purpose. Do you have any idea how difficult that is? To constantly question why you’re on this earth in the first place? I’m not cut out for this constant existential crisis.”
“What if your purpose is just to be happy?”
She pauses, eyeing me curiously. “That’s not having a purpose.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not helping anyone.” She huffs, sitting up and moving to cross her legs, the pillow resting in her lap. Isn’t your purpose meant to be something that will make the world a better place?”
I shrug, rolling over to the side to look up at her, “Maybe, maybe not. I’m not a philosopher or a theorist or whatever, but I do think that you’re the one who chooses what you get out of life. Sure, you might not be the one who decides all the circumstances, but it’s your choice if you stay in them. Your purpose is ultimately based on whatever makes you happy.”
“But that’s selfish.”
“Why?” I ask with an exhaled laugh, “There’s no unselfish good deed.” I prop back up onto my elbow, watching as she watches me with amused curiosity. “If you’re going to go out of your way to, for example, pay for a stranger’s groceries at a supermarket, you don’t think you’re going to feel good about doing that? You will. Anyone who does something like that will. So, maybe your purpose is to make yourself happy.”
She scoffs, but it is one of surprise followed by her laughter, “Your way of thinking is fascinating.”
“I’ll be taking that as a compliment, thank you very much.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” She leans her head over mine, a playful smile on her lips. “So, tell me then Rhodes, do you believe your purpose is to be happy?”
“I do.”
“And are you currently fulfilling your purpose?”
I push myself up, forcing her to have to move her head, allowing for me to sit in front of her. The answer to her question is more complicated than just a yes or no answer. Yes, in this very moment, with an increased amount of interest and compassion (over and above the raw, sexual magnetism I am feeling), I am making myself happy by being around her.
“I’d like to think so.”
Her eyes flash with wild interest, “Interesting.”
If there is something I will use the word interesting to describe, it would be her.
She is a walking paradox. Confident, yet insecure. Outspoken, yet never heard. She stands her ground, always saying exactly what she is thinking, yet she questions herself. There is too much self-doubt for someone with the world at her fingertips. Whatever she wants, she can make it happen because that’s who Nikita is. Determined, focused, eager to prove to everyone that she can do everything on her own.
I grab her chin between my thumb and index finger, leaning closer to her welcoming the lingering cocoa-butter smell that lives on her skin, “What makes you happy, Nikita?”
Her eyes jump from my lips to meet my gaze, a new flash of curiosity in them. “Ask me when we’re back home. I’m afraid this holiday air messes with my ability to think straight.”
“You can say me.”
Her eyes roll as she scoffs, “I see the air has already messed with your brain.”
Even when we expose our own vulnerability to each other, she always finds a way to bring it back to the banter. And truthfully, I love that.
It’s never a dull moment when Nikita is around.