Page 45 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Chapter Twenty
Summer
During the class, I’d blocked Nick from my mind. I’d promised myself I could think about his thoughtfulness after. So on the cab ride home, I’d inspected the gesture and come up with a clear answer. Though not dictated by the contract, signing me up for a baking class must’ve been part of the team’s thank you to me. Delightful, but unnecessary.
Then he’d admitted it. Right there on the apartment couch. Like it wouldn’t melt my insides completely to know the class was from him. Evidently completely. Maybe Rob had given him the idea, which I’d considered since he knew me best, and yet Nick had been in my house. He’d seen my shelves. And honestly? He’d seemed a little shy, almost embarrassed to admit the class hadn’t been from the team.
Now that dinner was wrapping up, a delicious, simple meal courtesy of Alicia and Art, I couldn’t keep the restless, anxious feelings at bay. I needed to get Nick alone. I wanted to pin him down and make him speak to me—tell me what he thought of me.Whyhad he done something like that, and what did it mean? If I read into what Ithoughtit meant, then it meant he… he… well, it meant he more than wanted me.
And the way my stomach dropped through the wood floor every time he spoke or looked at me, or I looked at him, well…Yeah. I more than wanted him, too.
By the time we’d cleared plates and wiped counters, washed dishes and covered leftovers, the apartment had fallen quiet. The athletes were clearly exhausted and already mentally gearing up for the next day. They said their goodnights and left me and Nick to the last few to-dos in the kitchen.
Though I kept my eyes studiouslyoffof him, carefully polishing a glass I was drying, every bit of me tuned to him. The sound of an occasional deep breath. The strong and warm feeling of him only feet from me in the small space. Nerves twisted in my belly, and I shut my eyes against the crush of anticipation that rushed me as I carefully placed the last glass in the cabinet.
The force of his gaze hit me as soon as I turned to face him. My goodness, the man could convey a thousand words in a glance.
“Looks like we’re finished here,” I said, a little impressed that my voice sounded solid under the circumstances.
He only nodded and held out a hand likeafter you. I hung the towel I’d used on a small hook and moved to the doorway. Impulse drove the next action more than anything else. Once standing even with him at the entrance to the kitchen, I reached across him and flipped the light off. When I brought my hand back, it grazed lightly against his chest. It was all I could do to keep from flattening it there against him, but good girl that I was, I didn’t.
The small catch of his breath made me meet his eyes. If my breathing hadn’t already been shallow, seeing his blue gaze would’ve sent me there easily enough.
“Thanks for your help,” he said, like I wouldn’t have assisted with the cleanup.
“Of course.”
He followed me out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Each step closer to the doors of our rooms tipped the anxious, eager energy, the need todosomething, higher. By the time we reached my room, I’d decided.
I turned to face him, and placed a hand on his arm. His eyes flitted over me, taking in every movement as I leaned up on my toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His clean, laundered scent made me want to stay right there and breathe against the smooth-shaven jaw, but I resisted that urge and returned to flat feet.
“I’m glad you liked the class.” The gruff, low voice was quiet and almost… tender.
“I loved it.”
The words hung there between us for seconds that felt like minutes, but then he moved.Wemoved, and as though we’d choreographed the motion, came together in an embrace so perfect, I’d never forget it.
His hand on my shoulder, the other one at the back of my head, my hands on his arm and the junction of his neck and shoulder, our lips met in a kiss both frantic and needful. This wasn’t a sweet, gentle kiss exploring each other. This was kerosene on a slow-burning fire.
He devoured me, and I him, the delicious slide of his tongue against mine something I’d never imagined could feel so utterly essential. His hands stayed put, gentleman that he was, and so somehow, I managed not to map the majesty of his chest and arms like I wanted.
A door opened somewhere in the apartment, and we broke apart at the sound. My breath came fast, and looking at him did nothing to calm it. Our eyes met, and my body became magma from the visual of him looking at me like that, let alone his lingering touch.
Instead of retreating, his hands moved—the one at my head slipped around to my neck and the other slid up the line of my shoulder. He cupped my face, stepped fully into the space we’d made moments ago, and took my mouth again.
This kiss felt different—no less heated, but the pace was a kind of circling hypnosis, slow and lulling rather than borderline crazed. My hands fisted in his shirt, and I could only think of him.Nick.
He pulled back, searching my eyes.
Oh.I’d said that aloud. “Sorry, I—you’re just…”
A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, and he released me. I reluctantly let go of his shirt.
“I’m just…?”
His eyes were bright as he waited, and my heart kicked. He looked happy and relaxed, and as always, heartbreakingly handsome. “You’re just full of surprises.”
He chuckled low. Just that rough, spare sound sent little bolts of lightning down my arms.
