11. Nikolai
11
NIKOLAI
A run stands in my driveway, leaning against his silver Audi, typical navy suit stretched tightly across his broad arms. He shakes his head slightly when he sees the way Jane is wrapped around me and I already know what he’s thinking.
I park and shut off the bike. Gently patting Jane’s thigh, I signal for her to get off first. She does so elegantly, like she does this everyday. My hair sticks to my forehead when I pull my helmet off and relieve Jane of hers.
“Your driver beat you here,” Arun points out. “Is there a reason you didn’t let Miss Walker ride in the enclosed vehicle?”
Jane juts out a hip as if to say, See ?
“Miss Walker likes my bike,” I say, annunciating the Miss Walker part and enjoying the scowl on her face.
Arun looks at Jane, who shakes her head at him. Little traitor.
“It’s good to see you again.” He pulls her into a brief hug, and a thump of jealousy hits me square in the chest.
“Likewise,” Jane says. She unzips my jacket and hands it back to me. I want to tell her to keep it for the next ride, but I don't push my luck just yet.
“Good flight in?”
“It was fine…”
I tune out their conversation and lean against my bike, crossing my ankles and tilting my head toward the sun. It heats my face and I relish in it. There isn’t a single day that I take seeing the sun for granted.
Not only because of my close brush with death, but also being from Pittsburgh. The long winters and short days make you grateful for the vitamin D.
“Nikolai?” Arun calls out.
“Hmm?”
“Are you listening?”
“To your polite small talk bullshit? No.”
A hand whacks my shoulder and I peek one eye open to see Jane’s incredulous face. I smirk at her then turn my attention to Arun.
He shakes his head. “You haven’t returned my emails or texts this week.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes.” I’ve spent almost every waking hour in the studio, both my home one and one downtown that I like.
“Well, Kerra’s people are hounding me, and we need to give them an answer.”
I straighten up. “About what?”
“Your relationship with her.”
Jane coughs but quickly tries to cover it. She twirls one of her rings and scans the lush landscaping in front of my house as if it’s a famous painting in a museum.
I glare at Arun, but he keeps his face carefully blank. “We’re not in a relationship.”
“She wants one.”
“And I don’t. You don’t seriously think it’s a good idea, do you?”
He hesitates, and I gape at him. “I want what’s best for you. I always have.”
“And you think this would be what’s best?”
He shakes his head. “There are pros and cons. I want you to make this decision yourself as you’re the one who would have to play into it. But I think it’s something you shouldn’t write off automatically.”
Jane kicks a loose rock with her foot and I dart my eyes over to her, already preparing to plead with her that this isn’t how it looks. She meets my gaze and I hate the way the spark that was in her eyes when she hopped off the bike only moments ago has dimmed.
I’ve done that to her. Again .
“I don’t want?—”
“Take the rest of the weekend to think about it,” he cuts in. “But come Monday, I need an answer. Got it?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and nod. Bitterness, no matter how unfair it is, sweeps through me that he ruined this moment for us. Ever since she called me to see if she could stay at my place, I’ve been buzzing, thinking about bringing her home tonight and having her back in my orbit.
But watching her face fall when Arun opened his mouth killed that.
“Fine. Anything else?” I ask him, making sure he knows by my tone that he better not have anything else he wants to discuss.
He shakes his head, murmurs a goodbye to Jane, and hops in his car. As he peels out of the driveway, Jane walks over to the SUV and peers inside.
“Your bags are already inside.” I had shown Hendrik before we left to pick Jane up which room she’d be staying in and to take her bags there once he got back.
She nods and follows me into the house.
“Do you want anything to drink?” I ask as we walk through the kitchen. She’s been here before, so she doesn’t need a full tour.
“Water’s fine. I’m kinda tired.” Her words are hollow.
“Jane—”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
I slide her a water bottle across the counter and lean against it. “I know, but I want to.”
She takes a sip and waits expectantly.
“Kerra wants to do a PR relationship to go along with the single.”
“I figured as much.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” I say, my chest squeezing. “She’s not the one I’m interested in.”
Jane immediately shakes her head, looking at the bottle in her hands.
“I know we have a lot to talk about?—”
“We don’t actually. The past is the past. We’ve both moved on,” she says quietly, and I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince me or herself.
“I haven?—”
“Stop. Don’t finish that sentence. You moved on. Time and time and time again.” Her eyes burn with so much hurt and resentment that it sets my nerves on fire.
I grip the counter to resist from reaching out to grab her. “I had to watch you move on, too.”
She steels her spine. “As I said, the past is the past.”
“What do you think I should do?”
Her brow dips in confusion.
“About Kerra.”
She laughs bitterly. “I shouldn’t be the one you ask about that. Like Arun said, you need to make that decision for yourself.”
I know that. I know that no one else can decide this for me, but for once, I’m trying to keep a reign on my impulsivity and be smart about this.
“I’d still like to know what you think,” I say.
She brushes me off. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“It always matters to me what you think.”
Silence stretches between us as my words hang in the air. The house is quiet, as if even it is holding its breath, waiting for Jane’s reaction.
A stone sinks in my gut as she breaks eye contact and clears her throat. “Can you show me which room I’ll be in? I’d like to get some rest.”
It’s still early in the evening, but I don’t bother pointing that out to her. She’s clearly needing some space, and maybe that’s for the best right now.
“Sure.”
She follows me upstairs and down to the opposite end of the hallway from my bedroom.
“Feel free to change anything you want,” I tell her, looking around the room. The walls are an off-white, leaving a blank canvas for the splashes of color in the rug, bedding, and paintings that a designer picked out when I moved in.
“Bathroom is through there.” I point to a door on the other end of the room. “And that’s a closet there. Should be big enough to fit all of your clothes,” I joke.
She doesn’t even crack a smile, and I know I’ve lost her for tonight.
“I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything.”
I turn to leave, and she stops me with a hand on my shoulder. Her touch burns me alive.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I appreciate you letting me stay here.”
Looking at her over my shoulder, I give her a small smile and say, “Anything for you, LJ.”
With that, I leave and close the door behind me. I walk down the hallway to my own room and close the door, leaning my forehead against it and sighing heavily.
The air feels thin and I know it’s because she’s here. Down the hall from me. So close, and yet she still feels as far away as she did when she was on the other side of the country.