41. Nik
Nik
August
I’ve been sitting here in the parking lot for an hour. If I paced the apartment one more time, I was going to wear down the floor, so I left way too early. I’m so proud of him, but I’m a nervous wreck.
I just want this so bad. I’ve spent seven years telling myself I was okay with living the way we were.
That it was all fine as long as I still got to have him.
That was true for a while, but when he left for rehab, I let myself actually want more, and now I’m not sure I can ever go back.
I need him to do this for us. I need him to be healthy.
I’m staring out the window when the passenger side door flies open.
When I whip my head around to look, Shane’s climbing into the car.
My heart flutters, and my stomach erupts into butterflies.
I feel like a teenager again. I want to say something, but my brain has completely emptied, so I just sit here, staring at him with tears in my eyes.
“Hey, good to see you too,” he jokes.
Then he smiles one of those big bright Shane smiles, and I start to sob. I practically climb over the center console and onto his lap.
“I’m so happy to see you. Holy shit, I missed you so much.” The words come out between pecks as I kiss every inch of his perfect face.
He laughs and hugs me tightly.
“I missed you too, Nikki.”
“Never ever leave me again. I fucking hate it out here without you.”
His laughs grow fuller, and I pull away to get a good look at him, still holding his face in my hands. He’s put on weight. He was so skinny when he left, but now he’s got some muscle, not just skin and bone. He’s got color back in his cheeks and gone are the dark circles.
My Shane is back from the grave.
“You look so good!”
“Thank you. You look pretty good too. I don’t know if we can make it home in time. We might have to climb in that back seat,” he says, winking.
My shoulders sag as I release all of the pent-up anxiety I’ve been carrying around the last few months. He grabs my chin and kisses me. It’s the softest, sweetest kiss I’ve ever had.
When he pulls away, he says, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I flop back over into the driver seat. “Let’s go home.”
He nods with the biggest smile still plastered on his face.
As we drive, I listen as he fills me in on his time at rehab.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says, turning to look at me, beaming with excitement. “I also learned to play piano.”
“What?” I ask, laughing.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I’m decent.”
“Bullshit. No way you learned an instrument in three months.”
“I did! It’s funny how much you can learn when you have nothing else to do.”
“Okay, well we’re going to have to find a piano so you can prove it.”
“Why? So, you can tell me I suck?”
“I would never,” I say, gasping and placing my hand over my heart.
“Yeah, okay.” He scoffs. “You love to tell me when I suck at things.”
“That’s true.”
“I know it is. You’re an asshole.”
“No, you’re the one who’s an asshole. Ask literally anyone who knows you, they will agree.”
“Maybe that’s why we love each other.”
“Luckily! I don’t think anyone else would want our mean asses,” I say, laughing.
“So, what about you? How have you been?” he asks, the joy fading from his voice.
“I’ve been good. I just stayed busy.”
I can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t believe me.
“Have you been sleeping?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re lying.”
“I mean, I’ll sleep better with you home, but I’ve been okay. I promise.”
He groans, leaning his head back on the seat. “I cannot wait to sleep in our bed.” His smile fades and he seems to travel someplace far away for a moment before he asks, “How’s Ash?”
“She’s okay. Haven’t you talked to her?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think she’d tell me if she wasn’t doing okay. Not after everything.”
“True, but I think she’s okay. We hung out with Gabe at the club last night.”
“You what?” He shoots up in his seat, looking over at me.
“Well, we were setting everything up for tonight. Gabe helped.” I shrug.
“How was that?”
“Fine. She stayed after I left. I think they’re okay. I talked to her this morning, and she said she was okay. You don’t have anything to worry about. I think she’s finally over him.”
“Jesus. I’m going to have to kill him, aren’t I?” He leans back in his seat and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“What?” I laugh. “No. I mean it. I think they’re okay.”
He turns his head to face me and then rolls his eyes.
As we pull up in front of the apartment, Shane rips the door open practically before the car’s in park.
He rounds the front and tears open my door. Just as I slip my purse onto my shoulder, he yanks me out and into his arms. Kicking the door closed, he lifts me with a hand under each of my thighs and heads toward the building.
“What about your stuff?” I squeak, giggling as his lips meet my neck.
“Fuck it. I’ll get it later.”
“You’ve lost your mind, Shane! Put me down!”
“It’s been three months. Of course, I’ve lost my mind.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Chill out! You’re gonna have the whole building talking about you before you’ve even been home an hour.”
He slams my back into the wall beside our door, stopping with his mouth a breath from mine.
“I don’t give a shit. It’s been ninety days since I saw you, felt you, tasted you.
I’m going to be inside you in about thirty seconds regardless of where we’re at.
So, if you don’t want the neighbors to have a front row seat to that, shut up and open the goddamn door. ”
He drops my feet to the floor and takes a step back. Tingles spread up my neck because I’ve been imagining this day for too long, and the real thing is turning out to be better than any daydream I’ve cooked up.
I grin, turning and ever so slowly digging through my purse for my keys.
“Nikki—” he warns.
I ignore him and continue making a show of taking my time to open the door. He presses his body to my back, dropping his mouth to my ear. “You have ten seconds.”
His hand slides across my stomach under my shirt. His fingers on my skin are like curling up on the couch with your favorite blanket—warm and familiar.
His voice is deeper this time when he says, “Five.”
I pull them from my purse and hold them up to show him before picking through every key like I need to search for the right one.
“Three.” His teeth nip my ear and his hand traces along the line of my jeans.
“Ope! There it is.” I grin and shake the keys.
“Two.”
Just as I put the key in the lock, he says, “Times up, baby.”
I turn the key, shove open the door and take off across the living room. He chuckles a warm, rich sound I’ve missed with every ounce of my being.
He kicks the door closed as I move to position myself so the couch is between us.
“Run all you want, but I’m going to get my hands on you. When I do, you won’t be able to run for a week.”
I roll my eyes. “You sure think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
His mouth turns down. “It’s all that screaming you do. It’s good for the ego.”
My breath quickens, but he doesn’t move. His eyes soften as he runs them all the way down my body, warming every inch as he passes.
I quirk a brow. “What are you waiting for?”
He runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “Just wanted to look at you.”
Then, he launches himself over the back of the couch, eating up the space between us with two strides when his foot hits the floor. His arm wraps around my waist, and he pins me to his hard chest.
I inhale him for a minute, just now realizing how much I missed that too. I mean, I’ve been sniffing his things like a lunatic since he left, but the real thing is different, and I get almost drunk off it.
He places a hand on the side of my neck before sliding it around to intertwine in my hair.
Then, his lips meet mine. It’s soft at first, almost barely a kiss before deepening.
When his tongue slides into my mouth, mint and tobacco explode on my taste buds.
I groan, reaching up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck.
He lifts my leg to hook it on his hip, running his hand up my thigh.
Gripping his hair at the back of his neck, I pull his head back to look at him.
“It’s been more than thirty seconds, and you’re not inside me yet.”
A grin creeps across his face before he sweeps me off the ground and charges to our room. He flings me onto the bed and rips his shirt over his head.
I suck in a breath.
Holy shit.
I’ve always been attracted to him in an obscene way, but he looks better than I’ve ever seen him. Stronger. Broader. The tattoos across his chest now look like they’re etched in stone.
He undoes his belt and tugs it free from his pants, running his tongue over his full bottom lip. The corner of his mouth tips up. “You’re staring.”
“I’m just—” Perching on my elbows, I can’t seem to think of words. “You’re so fucking hot?” I don’t mean for it to sound so much like a question.
He chuckles, slipping out of his jeans and climbing onto the bed in nothing but his black boxer briefs.
I can’t help running my fingers over the ridges of his stomach, his shoulders, his biceps.
Then, his lips are on mine, devouring me like he’s starving. His tongue sweeps my mouth. His teeth nip my bottom lip.
Breaking only long enough to tear my shirt over my head, his whiskey eyes ignite when he realizes I’m not wearing a bra under it.
His hand brushes the outside of breast and his thumb sweeps over my nipple. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
In a swift tug, he rips my jeans down and tosses them to the floor before sitting up with his back against the wall and pulling me onto his lap.
His fingers hook under the sides of my black lace thong to grip my hips.
Taking his time reacquainting his lips with mine in slow lazy kisses, my insides turn to liquid. I thread my fingers in his hair and he moves to my neck, nipping and sucking a path all the way to the spot just between the top of my breast where he presses a light kiss.
“Show me what you did when you missed me,” he says, his voice thick as he guides my hand between my thighs.