Chapter 10 Melanie #2
I flinched when loud engine noises snapped me out of my thoughts.
Turning, I saw Nick driving up on a motorcycle.
My breath quickened as the sensation of warmth flooded my whole body.
I wasn’t normally into men with tattoos who drove motorcycles, but Nick looked like heartache in the most delicious way possible.
He was toxic to my heart and soul, and it was hard to take my eyes off him.
Stepping out on the front porch, I waved at him briefly.
“Hi,” he says as he removes his helmet and places it on his bike seat.
“Hi,” I say. I want to ask him where he went, but I know it's none of my business. Loco barks, but he starts wagging his tail as he walks closer. That’s odd; he’s never liked men.
“Are you hungry?” He asks.
“A little, why?”
“Have you checked your blood sugar levels? You were drunk as shit yesterday.” He brushes past me, and the expression on his face tells me he’s pissed.
What’s his deal? What difference did it make to him if I was drunk or not?
“Ya, I realized that this morning from my pounding head.”
I follow him inside. I watch his muscles flex as he reaches above the cabinet to grab a tiny bottle. “Here, take these, then go lay down. I’ll make you something to eat.”
“You don’t have to do that. I was just kind of hoping you could take me back to the lake house so I can shower. I have a shift tonight, remember?”
“Ya, that’s why I need you to check your blood sugar levels, now. I don’t have time to babysit today. So be a big girl and start to take care of yourself.”
The warmth I felt early was immediately replaced with fire from the boiling rage that was surfacing.
“Okay, I never asked you to babysit, that was all your suggestion. So there’s no need to be an ass to me when I’m only here because you offered to drink with me. Not sure what crawled up your ass this morning but don’t take your shit out on me.”
He slammed a pot down hard, then ran a hand through his hair. “Ya, you're right” he says, turning around, “I did offer because I know how damn destructive you are to yourself, so forgive me for looking out for you.”
“If you were looking out for me, then why are you so pissed about it today?”
He lets out a deep sigh, raking a hand through his hair.
“It’s been a stressful morning. I had to handle some business, and I’ve been at the restaurant helping my mom.
I’ve been up since five this morning. So I’m going to cook something to eat because I’m starving, and I need to cook because it’s the only thing that calms me down. ”
I frowned, taking him in. Was he serious? That’s what calmed him down? The guy needed to drink some wine then because that worked much better than cooking.
“Go check your blood sugar. Breakfast should be ready once you're finished.
“You don’t have to worry about me; I’m not your problem.”
“You’re my employee, so yes, I do. I can’t afford to lose another staff member, not right now anyway.”
I watched him shuffling through the kitchen, grabbing a carton of eggs, milk, and bread. Part of me knew he was right, but a part of me didn’t want to do as he said because I hated taking orders from anyone, especially men. At the same time, I also didn’t want to end up in urgent care again.
When I returned to the kitchen, he had two plates with eggs and toast on them and was pouring himself a glass of water.
“Well?”
“I’m fine, it was a little low but not as low as I expected.”
"You’re welcome.”
“Did they teach you that cockiness is unbecoming in the military because they should have.”
He isn’t amused since his lips are pursed in a perfectly straight line as he sits at the table.
“Once you’re done eating, I’ll take you back to the lakehouse."
“I appreciate the gesture but I’m really not hungry,” my stomach growled the second I finished speaking. Damn, stomach.
Nick looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.“I didn’t poison the food if that's what you're worried about.”
I rolled my eyes and sat down. As I ate, I could feel my body being replenished with nutrients, which also helped with my headache. We sat in silence for most of the duration of breakfast. I dropped a few slices of bacon to loco between the sounds of silverware clanking against glass.
The silence was pleasant. We both didn’t feel the need to bullshit or make pointless small talk. There was no need since he wanted nothing to do with me, and I wanted nothing to do with him.
After eating, Nick bolted outside like he couldn’t breathe until he was away from me. No words. Just out the door, fast. I followed, Loco trotting behind me, sensing the energy shift like he always did. Nick was halfway to his truck when I said, “Can we ride your motorcycle instead?”
He stopped mid-stride, spine stiffening before he turned around slowly, his eyes narrowing like he hadn’t quite heard me right.
“You’d rather ride the motorcycle?” His voice was tight, laced with disbelief.
“Yes. I don’t like enclosed cars.” I gestured toward the sky. “That’s why I got the convertible.”
He studied me, searching for the real reason buried under the excuse. “Are you sure you’re fine?”
I shot him a look sharp enough to slice. “I’m fine.”
His eyes flicked to Loco, tail wagging beside me. “And what about your dog?”
“Isn’t that what that’s for?” I pointed at the tiny dog carrier strapped behind the motorcycle like it was a joke waiting to happen.
Nick’s mouth curved into something between a smirk and a sigh.
“Yes, but your dog is way too small to fit that. And besides, he needs the proper gear to ride. The new sounds, the engine—he’s never been on a bike.
It could scare him, cause him to jump off.
” His gaze turned serious. “And I don’t think you want to take that chance, princess. ”
The word burned, but not more than the mental image of Loco flinging himself off a speeding bike. I exhaled. “Ugh, fine. But I’m riding in the back.”
Nick rolled his eyes and reached for his back pocket. “Are we always going to have this argument every time we drive somewhere?”
I clocked the cigarette box in his hand and my stomach flipped. “Uh, you are not smoking in the car. I’ll throw up.”
He scoffed. “Dramatic much? Last time I checked, it’s my car.”
“That didn’t stop you before.” I folded my arms, already defensive, already pissed that this felt familiar.
He lit the cigarette, took a long drag, and blew the smoke out slowly—right into my face.
I coughed, exaggerated but honest. “How can you be nice one minute, like a decent human being, and then turn into a total dick the next?”
He didn’t flinch. “We would’ve been on the road five minutes ago if it weren’t for your strange driving preferences.”
“Fine.” My voice cracked like a whip. “If you put that damn cigarette out, I’ll ride with you in the truck.”
He stared at me, unmoving. A beat passed. Then another.
And then he flicked the cigarette to the ground, grinding it out under his boot without a word.
“Good call, princess.” He climbed into the truck like nothing had happened.
I hesitated. Not because I was mad—though I was—but because getting in that truck meant more than just conceding. It meant sharing space with him, letting that quiet tension bloom between us again.
I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, pressing Loco to my side, holding onto his warmth like armor. The seat smelled like him—leather, smoke, and whatever cologne he barely wore but always lingered.
I told myself it was just a ride.
I told myself I didn’t like it.
Fuck no, I thought as I stared out the window. Not Nick Consele. He was the last thing I wanted to get used to. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.