Chapter 31
That night, I lock up my Prius. As I walk toward Pete’s, I run lines in my head. I practice all the things I want to say to Nick, all the things I want him to know.
Since my run, I’ve been prepping for tonight like it’s an audition. It was my way of keeping calm, staying focused—and not getting scared and wussing out. But this is so much more than a casting call. What’s on the line isn’t just some role on a TV show or in a movie. What’s on the line is my future.
Our future.
Assuming we even have one, that is—but no. I really cannot go there. Right now, my head needs to be a no-negativity zone. Only positive thoughts allowed.
With a deep, bracing breath, I open the door and enter the bar.
It’s Thursday night, one of our busier nights, and the place is already pretty packed. My gaze goes immediately to Nick’s end of the bar, but he’s not there. In his usual place, Sara is clearing a few dirty glasses off the counter.
I don’t have a supernatural connection with Nick anymore, so I don’t know if he’s here, on his way, or maybe not coming at all. Wrangling my growing panic, I weave my way through the tables, up to the bar. “Hey, Sara,” I say. “Wh-where’s Nick?”
She glances up at me. “Oh, hi, Carrie.” She nods toward the back of the bar. “He’s in the storeroom, finishing up inventory.”
My whole body sighs with relief. “Gotcha,” I say. “Thanks.”
***
I step into the back room, and I find Nick kneeling on the floor in front of several cartons of liquor, counting the bottles. His back is toward me, so I can’t tell what tonight’s band tee is. But his shoulders look tense, and it breaks my heart that his anger at me might be the cause.
I take a deep breath.
“Nick?”
Hearing my voice, he flinches. He doesn’t turn around. “I’m busy here,” he says without looking at me. He makes a note on the inventory sheet on a clipboard, then turns his attention back to the boxes.
He’s not going to make this easy.
But that’s okay. I came prepared.
This is my moment. This is what I’ve been rehearsing for. In a way, it’s like my whole life up until now has been just one big rehearsal, leading me here.
This is where I tell Nick everything I’ve done wrong to try to make it all right. This is where I confess what I’m feeling for him and hope against hope that he might feel something similar for me.
Only I blank. My mind is a total. Freaking. Blank.
I stand here, mouth open, but nothing comes out. All my careful, well-chosen phrases elude me, and I’m left with nothing but my emotions.
Goddammit, am I really choking now ? Am I seriously tanking this ?
I close my eyes and remind myself that this isn’t an audition. I don’t need scripted lines. Hopefully, my emotions will be enough. I just need to speak from my heart.
I open my eyes.
“Nick, I’m so sorry,” I say to his back. “I should have told you about Jenn.”
No reply. He continues with the inventory.
“I meant to tell you,” I say, pressing on. “Really, I did. Except there was always something getting in the way.” I’m about to leave it there, but deep down, I know that won’t cut it. I need to come totally clean. “Mostly, I guess I was getting in the way,” I confess. “Me and my stupid fear of having the tough conversations.”
Nick doesn’t say anything. He still hasn’t turned to face me, but he has stopped counting the bottles. I think he’s listening.
“I let Jenn put all these questions about you in my head,” I say. “But really, I had no reason to question you. I know that now.”
Slowly, he sits back on his heels and puts the clipboard down. The muscles in his shoulders don’t seem quite so taut anymore. Maybe he’s hearing me?
“I thought you just changed your mind,” says Nick quietly. He’s talking to me, but he’s still looking at the liquor bottles.
“Changed my mind?” I ask.
I watch from the back as Nick nods, his long dark hair grazing the neck of his tee. “As a foster kid, I bounced around a lot. And it always seemed like, just when I’d start to get comfortable, just when I’d let my guard down and begin to think that a temporary situation might become permanent, something would happen. There’d be some reason why they couldn’t keep me, why I’d have to go. And I’d find myself right back in the system.” He shrugs. “So after we got together, when you started acting so distant, I figured something like that was happening all over again.”
“So you put your guard up?” I ask.
“I put my guard up,” he confirms. “And I pulled back too.”
It’s basically what Pete told me. But hearing it from Nick, it’s so much sadder. And while this certainly explains why Nick got all distant with me, why he seemed to shut down, it totally shreds me up inside to think that I caused him even a moment of pain. And that I brought back such painful memories.
“And when you pulled back, it just put even more questions in my head. It made me doubt you more. It made me doubt us more.” I shake my head. “I’m so sorry, Nick,” I say again. “I should have trusted you. I do trust you. I—”
I can’t take it anymore. Playing this scene without a face-to-face partner is torture.
“Goddammit, Nick, don’t keep your guard up now,” I say. “Please. Look at me.”
He doesn’t move.
“ Look at me ,” I repeat.
With a sigh, Nick gets to his feet. Keeping his eyes down, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turns around.
Van Halen, I see. Tonight’s band tee is Van Halen.
I wait for Nick to stop staring at the floor.
Finally, he lifts his eyes and looks at me.
At first, I can’t read his expression. But soon, he starts to squint at me in confusion.
Gradually, I see the light of understanding dawn in his gaze, and I understand what must be going through his head.
I didn’t dress in a way to deliberately expose my new build—or rather my old build—but I didn’t try to hide it either. And Nick, who knows every inch of my body so well, clearly knows that there’s been a change.
And since my confession to him last night, he knows the one thing that could have caused such a change.
Slowly, a smile stretches across his face, and I’ve never been so happy to see his dimples.
“I love you too, Carrie,” he says.
All at once, he’s closing the space between us, scooping me up in his strong arms, swinging me off my feet. I feel such a rush of relief and joy and love—God, so much love—that all I can do is laugh.
When he silences my laughter with a kiss, I totally forget we’re at work. All I care about is that Nick loves me. He loves me! And I love him.
***
I’m not sure whose night it is to close up Pete’s, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Nick and I are a team now. We’ve just finished stacking the chairs on the tabletops, and we’re starting to upend the stools on the bar. As I work from my end and he works from his, I still can’t believe I’m forgiven.
“I never should have doubted you,” I tell Nick.
“And I never should have shut down on you,” he says. “I should have been more open about my feelings.”
“And I should have been stronger,” I say. “And from here on in, I promise I will be stronger. Even without all my slayer muscles.”
“Well, if you ask me, you’re already pretty strong,” he says. “Strong enough to take on a VIP room full of vampires and another slayer to boot.”
“Maybe,” I say. As much as the compliment from Nick pleases me, I know I haven’t entirely earned the praise. “But I almost wasn’t strong enough to come in here tonight and tell you I love you.”
With a plunk-plunk , Nick and I stack the last two stools on the counter, coming together at the center of the bar.
“What was that?” asks Nick, grinning down at me. “What was that you just said?”
That’s when I realize that I haven’t actually said it yet. I haven’t told him how I feel. Based on my new appearance, Nick was able to surmise it, of course. But I haven’t said the words out loud.
And I definitely don’t want him making judgments about me just because of how I look. Especially when it comes to something as important as this.
So I peer up at him, grinning back. “I love you, Nick,” I tell him. “I absolutely freaking love you.”