10. Willa
Chapter ten
Willa
Present day
B lood pounds loudly in my ears as my worries run rampant. As the pressure builds, an invisible weight settles over me, making it difficult to breathe.
Oh my God, what have I done? What possessed me to spill my guts? I’ve only known Nick a matter of days. How could I be so stupid and impulsive?
“I shouldn’t have told you.” Another tear slips down my cheek and Nick wipes it away with his fingertip. “Please forget every word you heard.” My fingers grip his hand so tightly that my knuckles turn white. “Please,” I reiterate, hysteria creeping into my voice.
“It's okay, Willa. I'll never tell a soul,” Nick soothes, pulling me into his chest. Under my ear, I listen to the steady cadence of his heartbeat, and I focus on that. “That’s good. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That’s it.”
I do as he says. My shaky breaths become steadier. The panic begins to recede .
"I can't begin to understand what you went through and the depths of your feelings, Willa, but I want you to be assured that your secret is safe with me.
I will never speak your truth to anyone without your express permission.
" Nick sighs, his arms tightening around me.
"And I'm so sorry that you endured that tragedy alone. "
Tragedy . Nick may not personally understand the pain surrounding the loss of a pregnancy, but he grasps how traumatic and isolating the event was for me.
Which is more than Baron was ever able to do. I've tried not to blame Baron for his reaction. In hindsight, maybe he was putting on a brave face or perhaps he simply has the emotional IQ of a slug.
I've come to accept that mourning the loss of a pregnancy is unusually difficult. It's an intangible loss. You don't lose someone; you lose the idea of someone.
How do you mourn something— someone —you never knew? Unless you’ve gone through it, you can’t understand the pain and the cycle of what ifs and what could have beens that play through one's brain.
The patio door swings open. The sounds of the party spill out, the jubilant noises in jarring juxtaposition with my bleak emotions. My parents’ next-door neighbors, Joyce and Mike, stroll onto the dimly lit patio, chatting animatedly, unaware they aren’t alone.
Oh no, I cannot face anyone seeing me right now. Not like this, not when my feelings are still spiraling. Not when I should be presenting a happy front upon hearing my brother's good news.
Instinctively, I bury my head into Nick’s chest to hide my face so no one will see my swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
But Nick has a different idea. His fingers slide into my hair, gripping the back of my neck, forcing my head to tilt backward.
Before I register what’s happening, his mouth is atop mine, moving slowly.
His kiss is like the gentle caress of the ocean's breeze, light and sweet yet invigorating.
His tongue licks my lips, plying them open, and I whimper at the sudden onslaught of sensations coursing through me as our tongues touch, setting off a series of explosive fireworks in my mind.
Forgetting we have an audience, I shift in Nick’s lap so that I'm sitting astride him. My hands drift from his neck to his jaw and down his chest. His lips are supple and soft, his movements tender. He’s holding back, kissing me with caution and restraint.
I want to know what it feels like to have Nick kiss me with unrestrained passion. With reckless abandon. With unbridled urgency.
Joyce gasps loudly when she sees us, and Mike mutters a hasty apology before they reverse course. When we hear the patio door close behind them, Nick breaks our kiss, panting as he slides his hand down my neck and shoulder.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped, but it was the first thing I thought to do to get them to leave,” Nick whispers, worry etched on his face. “I knew you weren’t ready to face anyone.”
“No apology needed.” I release a deep breath, reveling in how much better I feel as compared to just a few moments ago. “I think your kiss actually helped calm me down.” Unsuccessfully, I attempt to stifle a giggle. “Or at least it was one hell of a distraction.”
How on earth can I swing from the onset of a second panic attack to laughing in the span of a minute?
But, like a light switch, Nick’s kiss reset my emotions. My fingers drift to my swollen lips. I can still feel the imprint of his mouth on mine. What began as a way to shoo away the neighbors morphed into a passion-fueled kiss.
Except, I need to reign in my desires because that kiss didn't mean anything. It was simply a diversionary tactic .
“I’ll volunteer to do that whenever needed. It will be a great sacrifice on my part, but when you feel the panic setting in, I’ll kiss away your worries,” Nick's signature cocky grin replaces his earlier frown.
Or maybe it wasn't.
"You'll volunteer as tribute?"
"Just call me Katniss." He strokes my cheek with the back of his knuckles. Softly, he says, “Regarding what you were saying before we were interrupted, thank you for sharing that painful chapter of your life with me. It couldn’t have been easy to reopen that wound, Willa.”
When I straighten my spine and start to interrupt him, he clucks and continues speaking.
“Secondly, I want to reiterate that I will never abuse your trust. It’s a privilege to have earned it and your secret is not mine to share.
Ever.” I believe him. His tone, his words, his earnest expression all ring of truth.
“And lastly, that boyfriend of yours is a bloody arse.”
“Ex. Ex-boyfriend,” I correct firmly.
“Eh, good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.”
He tightens his arms around me, and I lean into his chest. It feels so good to seek comfort in the arms of another. Nick is strong enough to prop me up and allow me a moment of weakness. After a bit, I sit back.
“Thanks for, well, everything." Rolling my eyes a little, I tease, "I sure know how to show you a good time, don't I?"
Nick squeezes my hip. “There’s no place else I’d rather be tonight than here with you.”
“Still, I'm sorry I freaked out. Hearing that Lily was thirteen weeks pregnant brought my experience to the forefront of my mind again.
Especially coming so soon after the two-year anniversary of my miscarriage.
" I expel a breath, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"I wish I was stronger and more self-reliant. I hate not being able to control my emotions.”
“Willa, you are so strong and resilient. Don’t you know that?” He asks, his voice incredulous.
Pursing my lips, I shake my head. “It doesn’t feel that way.”
"You’re fighting your demons privately while living your life in the public eye. I don’t think you can get much stronger than that, my darling," he remarks, careful to avoid using the endearment baby again.
I nibble my bottom lip, contemplating Nick’s words. He empowers me. I feel seen and heard in a way that I never have by anyone else.
“How do you understand me so well?” Lifting my hand, I trace the line of his strong jaw.
“Like you, my life is not entirely my own.” He sighs and leans his face into my hand, kissing my palm. “My family’s business is…very public, and I’ve lived my life aware that people are always watching and judging my actions. From an early age I knew that I had to live up to certain expectations.”
His answer only brings up more questions.
What is his family business? Is it literally a business, like a tech company, or something else entirely?
Perhaps his family is in politics? Or is it something more nefarious, like the mafia?
Despite having visited Belgrovinia once, I know next to nothing about the country or its culture.
“Must be quite a business,” I murmur, raising my eyebrows.
"It is."
“This trip to America has been liberating for you, hasn’t it? An opportunity to be out of the public eye for a bit, to escape those expectations you mentioned earlier.”
He nods. “Very much so. My father unexpectedly passed away recently and after publicly mourning him, I needed to get away. To grieve on my own and find peace. I needed to exist somewhere as an anonymous individual rather than merely an extension of my family.”
My eyes soften. “I’m sorry about your father. Were you close?”
“Thank you." Nick pauses, careful with his words. "His passing was devastating, but to answer your question frankly, no. At one time, I was quite close with him, but…” He breaks off, staring over my shoulder, lost in his own tumultuous thoughts. “But we grew apart. Since my father’s death, I’ve been rethinking things, regretting past actions, wondering if things could have been different between us. But there’s a finality in death, so all my wonders and worries are pointless.
I've lost any opportunity to mend our relationship. That’s been the hardest thing to come to terms with, I think. ”
I squeeze his hand, offering my sympathy.
"My family isn't like yours, Willa. You're lucky to have them, you know."
"Sometimes I lose sight of that because of their overbearing ways, but you're right. I am lucky." I bob my head. "Are you close with your siblings?"
“I am. My brother, Alex, is two and a half years older than me, and my sister, Ellie, is two and a half years younger. I love Ellie dearly and I'm protective of her, but I'm much closer with Alex."
"Perfect stairstep birth order with two and a half years between each child."
"Yes. Everything in my family is very regimented, and apparently, that includes the birth dates of the offspring." Nick smiles wryly, holding my gaze. "Alex is my best mate even though we’re also polar opposites. He’s quiet, intelligent, and steadfast. A deep thinker.” Nick makes a playful face.
“Whereas I’m known for being extroverted and arrogant. A wild card.”
"I think you're selling yourself short, Nicholas. Yes, you're extroverted, and I'd say confident rather than arrogant, but you're also smart, considerate, kind, and funny, too."
"So, you're saying I'm the total package?"
I shove his shoulder, smiling. Because I cannot admit that I'm starting to think he is, in fact, the total package. "More like a walking, talking red flag than total package."
He winks with a devilish smirk.
I roll my eyes.
“You know, I’ve never been glad that Ellie has anxiety, but tonight, I am. I’m glad I could be there for you. It seems like I was supposed to be here with you. Almost makes me believe in fate.”
“Fate, huh?” I joke. “Like, the stars aligned, and we’re meant to be?”
“Exactly like that,” he quips, but his intense expression belies his playful tone.
His fingers slip from my waist to my ass as he pulls my body flush with his. My breath hitches in anticipation as Nick stares into my eyes before his gaze drops to lips. The potent electricity practically crackles between us.
"You're making it very hard for me to fight this," I murmur, my voice growing serious.
"Then stopping fighting it, Willa."
“Kiss me,” I whisper, my heart beating furiously as those two little words leave my lips.
Nick acts immediately, connecting his lips to mine. Our restraint unraveled; I twine my arms around his neck as I pull him toward me to deepen our kiss. Our tongues collide and Nick’s fingers knead my ass, pressing my hot center to meet his hard length .
There’s no audience this time. No excuse to justify the need for a kiss other than submitting to the desire that is building between us. Like a lit match dropped onto gasoline, our lust has exploded into an unstoppable inferno.
Arching my back, I press my breasts into Nick’s chest as his hands rove over me, mapping out every plane and crevice of my body.
My fingers thread through his hair, lightly scraping his scalp.
As Nick slides the strap of my dress down my shoulder, he peppers the underside of my jaw with openmouthed kisses.
I’ve downplayed the things Nick makes me feel—powerful things, like longing and lust—but there’s no use fighting them.
However, while these past few days with Nick have awoken my libido, my fears have not been defeated. As much as I try to lose myself in Nick’s touch, I can’t stop the intrusive thoughts cycling through my head. My mind won’t shut off enough to allow myself to fully enjoy this moment.
I haven’t been with a man since Baron.
I haven’t had sex in over two years.
Am I ready to try again? Am I ready to try again with someone I met on vacation? Am I strong enough to withstand the sadness when it's time for us to leave Saltside and return to our separate lives?
Attuned to my hesitancy, Nick breaks the kiss, sliding the strap of my dress back up my arm. "We're in no hurry, my darling."
But he's wrong. We are in a hurry. Our remaining time together is limited.
I'm unsure if that knowledge makes me want to hit the gas or pump the brakes.