59. Nick
FIFTY-NINE
NICK
I’ve used anger as my armor for a long time. It’s easy. I hold a grudge like nobody’s business. Always have. I hide behind it. Build walls out of it. It’s so easy. You don’t have to confront anything when you’re angry.
Anger gives you something to do. It points a finger and places blame. With anger, every complicated feeling turns into a simple situation with a clear villain.
If you’re angry, you never have to admit that you’re hurting, and there will be no room for disappointment.
You definitely don’t have to actually deal with processing the complicated emotions of hurt and betrayal.
You can simply polish your grievances until they shine.
You can put them on display and marvel at them, and then keep replaying the offenses every time you start to feel something other than anger, feeding it and nurturing it and keeping it alive.
It’s important to keep it alive.
Because anger protects you.
When there’s nothing left?
That’s when you’re officially in trouble.
I can’t make it tonight.
That’s the text I end up sending Blue, and that’s the extent of my explanation. Then I throw my phone onto the couch before I change my mind.
It’s pathetic. The whole thing. The text. The reason for sending the text. The fact that I spend the next few hours staring at the ceiling thinking about him.
I need some space. Or at least that’s the conclusion I’ve come to after spending the last few days having a series of truly unpleasant, honest conversations with myself. So, space. Space sounds smart. Healthy, even. Reasonable, for sure.
The problem is that I don’t want space.
I want Blue.
Which is precisely why I need said space.
I get up from the couch with a huff and stalk to the kitchen. I make dinner because cooking usually gets me in the zone where I don’t think. Not today, though. Today, I think about Blue.
I turn on Callum’s game as background noise to drown out my thoughts.
It doesn’t work.
I go for a run.
By mile fifteen I give up. I fucking give up.
At one in the morning, I’m standing outside his apartment building, and it’s a terrible fucking idea, but I let myself in anyway, walk up the stairs—fucking run up the stairs, if we’re being honest—and pull out my key.
It’s a terrible idea, and it’s only once I turn the key that I remember Dia and Bridget also live here, so I might run into either of them on my way to Blue, and I didn’t exactly plan for that, but it’s too late anyway because the lock clicks and the door opens.
The apartment is dark and silent. I toe off my sneakers and push them under the bench by the door.
When I turn around, Blue is standing by his bedroom door, barefoot and sleep-rumpled.
Neither of us says anything.
His eyes find mine and stay there for a bit.
I feel exposed in a way I’ve only ever felt with Blue. Like he can read my mind. Like he can see every ugly, complicated feeling I’ve spent years trying not to acknowledge.
I’m sorry.
I tried to stay away.
I couldn’t.
His expression softens almost as if he heard all those unspoken words. He comes to me, and for the first time all day, the noise in my head goes quiet.
Blue’s thumb brushes the back of my hand. He holds his hand out. I take it, and he pulls me after him through the dark, silent apartment until we reach his room. He lets me in first and then closes the door after us, leaning against it.
He tilts his head to the side. He just looks at me and waits. So I go to him.
My fingers curl around his neck. He tilts his chin up the slightest bit, almost like a challenge.
Not that I need one. I lower my mouth to his, and then our lips are glued together in a slow kiss more passionate than any other we’ve shared so far.
Neither of us moves to turn it into anything more.
We just kiss, and it’s overwhelming, and I let myself feel everything.
It’s all too much, but this is Blue, which means I want it to be too much.
It’s okay that it’s too much. But then, fuck, it’s also so fucking much.
We tumble onto the bed and clothes go left and right until we’re both naked.
I start to flip us over. I need to be in control. Because this is so fucking much. Blue’s hand presses down on the middle of my chest.
“Let me,” he says softly.
I drop onto my back.
He lets out a pleased sound that makes me laugh helplessly, and then he’s moving lower, working his way down my body, lips soft and hot as he trails openmouthed kisses over my chest.
The feel of his mouth on my nipples, his teeth raking over them, tongue soothing, makes me arch and twist on the bed. His cock grows harder between my thighs.
Soon I don’t think at all anymore.
His hand moves lower, and he’s cupping my dick. His tongue swipes over my belly button, and he moves lower still.
When his mouth closes around my cock, there’s a moment when my brain short circuits, only able to register that it’s hot and wet, and there’s suction. I moan out loud and my hips thrust without warning.
Blue’s palm covers my mouth.
“Shh,” he whispers. “We’re not alone.”
He sucks me until I can’t think about anything. I’m probably too loud anyway.
His palm stays on my mouth when he works himself inside me.
His hips move enticingly slowly, rolling into me. He takes his time, impossibly steady and in control while he drives me out of my fucking mind.
I don’t think, I just feel. Blue above me and inside me, fucking into me deep and slow. His lips come down on mine, and then I’m shaking and shivering and groaning into his mouth as I come.
He presses his mouth into my shoulder, hips pistoning relentlessly, and comes with a gasp of his own.
Much later, we’re both lying on our stomachs, his leg thrown over the backs of my thighs, his fingers caressing up and down my back. He looks sleepy and content and happy, and seeing him like that… It’s complicated.
First and foremost, seeing him happy makes me happy. That part is simple.
Everything else, though? It’s as if I’m finally being forced to look at the life I’ve been building for myself and see beyond what’s right in front of my face.
I’m suddenly starting to see the big picture.
All the lies I’ve told myself. All the anger that’s been clouding my judgment.
All the righteous pettiness I’ve been telling myself I deserve to feel.
There’s a nagging feeling that once I truly stop lying to myself, I won’t like what I see.
Blue’s breathing evens out, and he burrows closer to me, mumbling something in his sleep.
I wrap myself around him and close my eyes.
I wake up to the feel of Blue’s lips moving against the base of my throat. I wrap my arms around him tighter and yawn.
He bites down on my collarbone and laughs when my cock jerks before he rolls out of bed.
I grab his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He sends me an amused look before he leans over for a quick kiss and pulls away again too soon. He picks his underwear up off the floor. “I have a job.”
I drop back down on the bed with a groan, and he laughs, sounding so impossibly light.
“I’m already late,” he says as he rushes out the door. I get up and follow him. He hops around in the bathroom on one foot, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, trying to pull up his jeans.
I straighten the collar of his shirt while he chucks stuff into his backpack.
“I have to go,” he says when I grab the hem of his shirt and tug him toward me.
“Give me a sec; I’ll get dressed,” I murmur against his lips.
“You don’t have to rush. There’s nobody here. Bridge is out of town, and I heard Dia leave earlier. You can take a shower and lock up after yourself.”
He walks backward toward the door, mouth still sealed over mine. We bump into walls and furniture the whole way to the front door.
He pats the door with one hand behind him, searching for the knob, still kissing me, before he lets out a sigh when he finds it and pushes the door open.
“Later?” he asks. His lips are swollen from my kisses.
I nod.
“I’ll be home.” It’s a promise.
He has to go.
One more kiss.
A heated look.
He’s out the door.
I stand in the hallway for a moment longer before I go back to the bedroom, grab a pair of clean underwear from Blue’s drawer, and head to the bathroom.
I’m just drying off when I hear the front door slam shut and hurried footsteps coming down the hallway.
I push the door open and step out. “Did you forget something or just—”
The words die an abrupt death when I come face to face with Dia instead of Blue.
We stare at each other. Dia frowns.
“Nick? What are you—” Her eyes go impossibly wide and impossibly round as she draws her conclusions.
I back away into the bathroom, hands covering my junk, and grab the towel off the hook, wrapping it around my hips quickly before I step back out there.
Dia’s eyes fly back to me. Her shoulders slump and she rubs her hands over her mouth.
“Oh, shit,” she says weakly. “Shit. You’re the guy with too many teeth.”
I blink at her. “The what?”
She motions toward her neck like it’s supposed to make sense of that, then waves dismissively when I don’t get it.
“Okay,” she says. “Okay. Okay.” Each okay sounds slightly more hysterical. “Shit.” She turns around and starts to pace, throwing me an occasional look.
I wait.
“You caught me off guard.” She glares at me.
“My bad.”
“Kind of is, yeah.” She holds her arms out. “Who do I even threaten here? Go’s my brother. You’re my twin.” She presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. “Oh my God, my brothers are fucking.” She whirls around. “I need a drink.”
She disappears into the living area. I hesitate for a moment before I go and get dressed.
My own clothes are strewn around on the floor of Blue’s bedroom, so I think fuck it and grab more of Blue’s clothes.
Once I’m dressed, I take a deep breath before I make my way to the living room, where Dia is sitting on the couch with her hands stuffed under her thighs, waiting.
I go to the window opposite the couch, lean my ass against the sill, and cross my arms over my chest.
Silence descends between us for a bit before Dia presses her lips together and aims her gaze at me.
“Talk,” she says.
I raise a brow at her, but I don’t say anything. Wouldn’t even know where to start.
“When? How? For how long?” she asks impatiently. “What the fuck, Nick?”
“Are you annoyed that there’s something between me and Blue or are you annoyed that you’re only now finding out?”
She stares at me, speechless again. “Blue?” she repeats.
I look away.
“Oh my God!” she exclaims. “How long?”
I don’t really hesitate before I shake my head. “You’ll have to have this conversation with Blue. Whatever he wants to tell you is how much you’ll get to know about this. Everything else is ours.”
She sits back with a huff. “Fine. Fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook. We will talk about this.”
I shrug, and she huffs with even more annoyance, so I end up sighing.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I say.
She throws her hands up. “Try anything.”
I consider it for a moment. “I think I’ll pass.”
She glares. “Okay. Fine. Whatever.”
We’re both silent for a bit.
“I don’t like it,” she blurts.
“None of your business, Dia,” I say, as calmly as I can.
“It’s kind of my business. I love you both, and you already had a falling out, and now you’re just… How the hell did it even happen? I seriously don’t understand.”
“None of your business,” I repeat.
“Oh, shut up.”
Now we’re glaring at each other.
“So… what? Go moved back, and you two took one look at each other and started hooking up?”
I make the mistake of looking away.
The room goes impossibly silent.
“Nick,” she says slowly while my stomach drops.
I don’t answer. For some reason, I can’t seem to form words.
“Nick.”
I meet her gaze. I can see puzzle pieces clicking into place for her, one after another. I can practically see the timeline form in her brain and the connections settle.
“Oh my God,” she says softly. “The summer.”
I refuse to look away.
“The summer after graduation. You were the reason.” She shakes her head, looking dazed. “He was so stupidly happy.”
My chest jolts, and I grip the edge of the windowsill.
“He was smiling like a fucking lunatic all the time, and he kept disappearing. Always off somewhere doing something with someone. You’re the someone.
Bridge and I kept teasing him about a secret girlfriend.
” I watch her eyes harden. “And then… he just wasn’t himself anymore.
I figured it was the mess with the family.
Because you two never liked each other that much, right?
” She juts her chin out. “But it was you.”
She looks away, staring at nothing for a long moment.
“Why did you leave?” she asks quietly.
My jaw tightens. “None of your—”
“Don’t,” she snaps, shaking her head. “Don’t even. Why did you leave?”
It’s my turn to look away. My nails dig into the wood.
“Because he lied,” I say.
She slumps into the couch and nods slowly. “You know, some things make a lot more sense now. Mind you, I kind of thought you were just an asshole who took off without a second glance when you found out the truth, but that didn’t explain Go.”
I snap my eyes to her.
She lifts her chin with a grim look on her face. “Do you know he got into Stanford last year?”
I shake my head.
She nods. “Yeah. Didn’t go, though. He’s been doing all sorts of odd jobs. Hates most of them, but curiously, the more he despises his job, the harder he tries to stick to it.”
I grip the windowsill even harder.
“He barely comes back home,” she continues. “Hasn’t been back to Annapolis in… five years, at least.”
I will pry that windowsill off if I keep going.
“Not to mention rowing.” She sounds almost conversational now.
I breathe in deeply. Calm. Calm. I’m calm.
“What about rowing?” I ask tightly.
Dia tilts her head to the side. “He doesn’t do it anymore.”
I snap my eyes to her. “What?”
She huffs and shakes her head. “You’re an asshole. But it does all make sense now.”
“What makes sense?” I grit out.
She eyes me calmly. “He’s been punishing himself. All these years. You ran away, you left him, and he punishes himself by taking away everything else he loves too.”
My legs suddenly feel like they’re too weak to hold my full weight. I grip the sill like my life depends on it. My heart beats so fast I feel sick.
We stay like that, opposite each other.
With nothing left to say.