9. Nick
NICK
The Road You Didn’t Take - Follies
I’m fucked.
I should’ve kissed her on the cheek, or even better, not at all.
I really showed her how I feel. And she doesn’t like it.
Something was off with her. Her whole body froze, and she opened her mouth—probably to tell me off—then ran to the bathroom the first chance she got.
Ethan bangs his booted foot into my shin. “Ouch, fuckface,” I seethe.
“Go after her,” he whispers.
“Huh?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose before kicking me again.
“Okay, okay.” I hop off my stool and head for the bathroom.
Ethan’s voice floats over the crowd, telling a loud and annoying story to cover for me.
I push open the door with the clam sign on it, not super inclusive, but not surprising. June calls out, “Sorry, I’m in here! Forgot to lock it!”
“It’s me.” My voice is too loud in the sudden silence of the bathroom.
“Oh,” she breathes out. “Hey.”
Little wisps of hair have escaped her ponytail, caressing the back of her neck. And she’s fidgety, her fingers twisting and turning in front of her.
I stuff my hands in my pockets. “I’m—I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asks, and her confusion seems genuine.
“The kiss?”
Her clear blue eyes blink much too fast. “Right. Same. So sorry about that.”
“We never talked about whether that was okay. I’m sorry.”
“God, no. I’m the one who was too forward. I tried to fake break up with you earlier, then I practically maul you. I’m—kind of all turned around.”
“Turned around how?” I don’t want to read into what she says, but I need to know.
What I wouldn’t give to be her bottom lip and feel her teeth sink into me. “I can’t figure you out, Nick Harper.”
“Me?” What’s there to figure out? I’m pathetically obsessed with her. I step closer, dying to tuck the wisps of her hair up into her ponytail, skim my fingers along her neck.
“When we’re like th-this, I’m having fun. But sometimes you …” She shifts on her feet, eyes darting away. “Sometimes you’re standoffish. And I never know which you I’m going to get. One day you pretend I don’t exist, and the next you buy me coffee and get Shaw kicked out of my class.”
I’ve only had half a beer, but it roils in my stomach. I pushed her away to save my dignity, hell, my sanity. But I hurt her. “I’m sorry.”
She stares at me, expectantly. I can’t get away with half-truths or vague answers. I can’t tell her everything, not yet, but I have to tell her something real. “The thing with my dad this week, I—I was on the phone with his doctors and insurance company.”
Her mouth drops open as she sucks in a quick inhalation. “But you said he’s okay?”
“Yeah, I mean, mostly. It’s a—he was in an accident.
” My teeth grind together, but I push through the yawning chasm of feeling exposed.
“At work. Last year. Fell off a roof. He was lucky, though. Only broke an ankle—which he needed surgery for—and has a severe herniated disc. The torn ligaments impact his mobility.”
“And you take care of him?”
“Of course.”
She looks at her hands, clasped so tightly in front of her that her knuckles are white. “Thank you for telling me that. And I’m sorry, what I said earlier was incredibly selfish. You’re dealing with so much and I was just whining.”
“Hey.” My voice is soft, but she still stares at her hands, so I slide a finger beneath her chin—her skin is so soft there—and tilt her face to mine. “I could’ve told you at any point this week, but I didn’t. I guess it felt … too real. To talk to you like this.”
She stiffens but doesn’t pull away. “I get it.”
“I don’t think you do.” My fingers slide to the hair loose around her face, and I tuck it behind her ear.
My damn hands have a mind of their own. I want to do more, touch her everywhere, tell her everything.
But I don’t want to scare her. I admitted this feels real, but she hasn’t said the same.
With way more effort than it should take, I drop my hand. “I’m not good at faking.”
“Because I’m an actress, people assume I’m good at pretending.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a damn amazing actress.
But …” She breathes in and rubs her lips together.
“I’ve spent so much time learning how to be vulnerable in front of an audience that I don’t know how to hide my feelings anymore.
And even if I did, I don’t want to do that with you. ”
My pulse pounds in my ears. “Is this—is the week over then? We’re done?”
“I’d like to keep going. But I understand if it’s too much trouble.”
“No, not too much trouble—” I snap my mouth shut. Of course she thinks that. I don’t have a reason why I’d want to pretend we’re dating. Unless … “It’s like Chessie said, the kids are used to seeing us together. We shouldn’t cause an upset.”
“For the kids?” Her brows shoot up.
“For the kids,” I murmur, but it’s thin from the ache in my chest.
She eyes me, hesitating, but lets it go. “If we keep this up, I think we need another ground rule.”
“What’s that?”
“Being honest with each other.”
My pounding pulse feels like a warning, an alarm. “I will.”
“Me too. Even fake relationships have to be based in truth, right?” June laughs, but that word is a bomb detonating behind my ribcage— fake .
“Exactly.” My voice is scraped raw from all the shit trying to claw its way out of my throat.
“Oh! And another rule.” She steps around me, heading for the door. “New pet name.”
“You didn’t like babe?” I laugh, despite myself.
She wrinkles her nose again and it is, unfortunately, very fucking cute. “No, thank you.”
“How about sweetheart?”
“Meh.”
“Darlin’?”
“Okay, Curly.”
“At least he’s the lead in Oklahoma. ” I shrug, and it feels good, releasing some of the tension from our bathroom chat. It’s easier with June than I thought it would be, having a serious conversation turn light and joking. I narrow my eyes at her. “I’ll figure out a pet name.”
She smiles and yanks open the door. “Can’t wait. We should get back, they’ll wonder where we went.”
Everyone politely ignores us as we slip back onto our stools—except for Chelsea, whose eyes widen on me, checking in. I nod in answer.
My chest is light, lighter than it’s been in a while, actually. In high school, I’d wanted to be in June’s orbit so badly, be the person she’d walk with to class, laugh with at rehearsal. I have that chance now. And it scares the ever-loving fuck out of me.
“So, June,” Chelsea says, and her name is a beacon, drawing me back to the conversation, “I’ve been dying to ask if you have any good stories about Nick from school?”
Ethan leans forward. “Please embarrass the shit out of him.”
June sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. She has nothing to say beyond borrowing my Bio II notes when she’d been out sick, except for …
Her eyes are bright, zeroing in on me for a moment before she turns back to our friends. “There was this one night, after the musical senior year at Denny’s?—”
“What show did you do?” Chessie cuts in.
My jaw aches as I grind my teeth together. Apprehension slithers across my shoulders, a ghostly hand playing piano. She remembers that night? I want her version, despite wishing she’d never said anything because of what it might reveal.
“ Anything Goes ,” she answers, oblivious to the panic rising inside me.
We aren’t as touchy-feely as we were before our conversation in the bathroom, but I can’t help myself.
My hand finds hers in her lap, and she intertwines our fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The ease of her touch helps calm my heart.
“And you were Hope?” Nat winks at June.
“Obviously,” she says, flipping her ponytail again. My hand itches to catch it, wrap it around my fist, and pull her head to the side, bare her neck?—
Her sister, Willow, rolls her eyes. “Here we go.”
I blink fast, derailing my train of thought. I don’t know how old June’s sister is, only that she’s younger than us, but Willow scares me a little.
“Shut up, or I’ll make you watch the recorded version Mom has somewhere in the attic,” June says.
“The horror,” Willow laughs, then mimes zipping her lips.
“So, after closing night, the cast always went to Denny’s.”
Chessie sighs. “I miss those days.”
“Did you do theatre in high school?” June asks.
“I did, and I actually went to Kinney Run Conservatory in the summers, too.”
“No fucking way! But you’re not from here, are you?”
“She’s from one of those weird Pennsylvania towns with a sex name,” Nat cuts in, smiling at her wife. A professional, incredibly talented, and renowned New York City director uproots her life for six weeks every summer because her wife loves it here.
Ethan prompts, “Let the woman tell her story. I’m dying over here.”
“Right!” June claps her hands. “So there we were, a bunch of obnoxious high schoolers, mixed in with long-haul truckers and stoners. It must’ve been 2:00 a.m.”
“2:30,” I amend. “That’s when Rajesh called me.”
“We’d smooshed a bunch of tables together.
I was at one end, and Courtney and Rajesh were at another—they were the it couple in our year.
I have no idea what happened, but all of a sudden, it was a screaming match.
Courtney’s sobbing, Raj is yelling, the waitress starts freaking out, and the truckers looked well and truly sick of our shit. ”
“Relatable,” Willow snorts into her drink.
June turns her head to her sister, threatening, “I know where the VCR is, too.”
Willow shakes her head, a sickly sweet smile on her face. “What’s a VCR?”
“Oh, fuck you very much,” June mutters.
I don’t know where he gets the balls to do it, but Ethan shushes Willow. “Continue.”
“Raj realizes he and Court are causing a scene, and he just … poof”—June tosses her hands in the air—“gets in his car and drives off. And believe me, I respect a dramatic exit as much as the next theatre major, but he was our ride home.”
“Oh, shit.” Nat chuckles.
“Deep shit, for sure. So we huddle up, arguing over whose parents we’re going to wake up at 2:30 a.m., when in walks this guy.” Her head tilts, leaning against my shoulder.
Chessie and Nat aww at the same time, making June laugh. “Oh, no. It wasn’t cute. He was pissed as hell.”
I straighten, and June’s head slips off my shoulder. “No, I wasn’t.”
Her eyebrows thread together, meeting my gaze. “Yes, you were.”
“Are we witnessing their first lover’s quarrel?” Chessie stage-whispers to her wife.
“I wasn’t.” I clear my throat. Ethan’s eyes are intent on me, brows raised in question. “I wasn’t,” I say again, with more confidence. “Raj felt like a dick as soon as he left, so he called and asked me to pick everyone up. Said he couldn’t go back. I didn’t mind at all.”
“You showed up in pajamas, socks and sandals, impressive bedhead, and a deep scowl.” Her eyes go from my hair to my mouth. I do my best to steady my breathing.
When Raj had called, he didn’t say who he’d left behind.
It was so late, I didn’t bother to change or brush my teeth, just rolled out of bed and drove over.
I’d been too sleepy to realize June would be there.
That if I maneuvered the drop-offs correctly, I’d carve out a few minutes alone with her.
In pajamas, with my impressive bedhead. So maybe I had been mad, but only at myself.
“Since Rajesh was driving his parents’ minivan, it took Mr. Grumpypants here two trips to get us home in his dad’s car.”
Ethan makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “I wanted an embarrassing story, not one of him being such a good guy.”
“But he is a good guy.” June’s answer is so simple, like my goodness is easy to see. If she’d heard the obscene thoughts racing through my mind that night, she wouldn’t think so.
The conversation shifts, and I let the memories of that night take over. I’d launched into a convoluted explanation of why I needed to drop certain people off in a certain order. I was sure Juniper would see through my bullshit, that I was only doing it to get her alone.
As she sat in the passenger seat of my dad’s car at 3:00 a.m., I’d racked my brain for something to say. She’d been completely silent. Back then, I’d assumed she was uncomfortable, that she knew I’d maneuvered her house as the last stop on purpose, and had finally discovered my embarrassing crush.
But now, after June said she thought I was mad, what would’ve happened if I had the courage to break my silence?
Even if something had started between us in the spring of our senior year, she was still bound for university in the city, and I was staying home.
She might’ve let me down easy, but she still would’ve dumped me.
No way would she move to New York with her hometown high school boyfriend.
Which is exactly what will happen in five weeks’ time. I’ll go back to work and pretend to care about my job and my apathetic students, and June will keep chasing her dreams in the city.
This weird restlessness, the need to move, sinks its claws into me. I don’t want to go back. My usual routine, my reticence, they don’t feel comforting anymore. They feel like a cage I’ve shut myself in.
“Hey, where’d you go?” She wriggles her hand in mine.
“Thinking,” I answer, and she deflates. Right, I’m supposed to be fun now, more open with her. I latch onto a topic of conversation that doesn’t make me want to run. “I’m sorry you thought I was mad at you at Denny’s.”
“Nick,” she laughs. “It’s been a million years. Plus, you apologize too much.”
“Right. Sor?—”
“No apologizing for you.” She covers my mouth with her palm, and I’m seized with the absurd urge to lick it. So I do. Her skin is warm, slightly salty, and soft. Fire spreads in a line down my spine. June gasps, pulling her hand away like my fire burned her too.
“Want me to apologize for that?” My brows go up.
“Absolutely not, that would be kink-shaming.”
“What if that is my kink?”
I’m not imagining her pupils swallowing her eyes, turning them from blue to almost gray. “Is it?”
I smirk, shaking my head. “No, you’ll just have to guess.”
The fire in my body flames brighter, imagining the mess I want to make of her. My dick’s already half hard behind the zipper of my jeans. I shift on the stool, leaning farther over the table, hoping that hides it.
June’s knee brushes mine under the table and my gut tightens. Wicked mischief lights her eyes, and I can’t wait for whatever comeback she’s got planned.
But Nat says, “So, June? Can you talk to Chantal before rehearsal on Monday?”
Her gaze lands on Nat, but I don’t miss the way June’s whole body is turned to me. “Love to.”