Page 47 of Even If the Sky is Falling
“Oh, so you grown enough to know what’s going on in my record collection,” Nick said, moving toward an old milk crate she’d missed on the tour. A couple dozen vinyl records filled the basket sitting beside a record player and small flat-screen TV. “I forgot to show you the entertainment center,” he said with a cheeky grin.
Shea immediately got up to investigate. “Ooh, Sam CookeLive at the Harlem Square Club 1963?”
Nick slipped the vinyl from the stack and held it before her. “You like Sam?”
“Yes, but I especially lovethisalbum.” She looked up at him and grinned. “You got this from your old man, huh?”
He rolled his eyes. “Alright now, Sam Cooke’s an honorary Chicago native. Everybody here loves him.”
“You wanna argue or do you wanna listen?”
He faced her with the album in front of him. “I’ll do you one better—would you like to twist the night away?”
“You want to dance with me?”
Nick held out his hand. “I do.”
Shea didn’t think. She tossed back the rest of her drink and set the empty glass on the coffee table. “Okay.”
Soon, a liquored-up Miami crowd rose from the speakers as Sam Cooke was introduced. The warm stereo sounds filled the tiny bunker and made her shiver with anticipation.Girl, get out your head and get into his arms... Let him hold you.
The two vodka tonics she poured herself were working their magic, but she’d need to do the rest. So, she stepped to him, a little clumsily, but he caught her by the waist. Together, they laughed it off and he held her as they swayed to the first song.
“Alright now,” Nick chuckled, drawing her closer. “‘Feel It... Don’t Fight It.’”
Her gaze flew to his smiling face. “Is that the first song?”
“Is it?”
Shea playfully slapped his muscular chest and rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Hendrix.”
“Tell me something,” he said in a soft voice. “What does a beautiful woman like you like to do when the worldisn’ton fire? What would you normally be doing on a Friday night?”
“Probably reading,” she said, glancing at their feet. Shea’s dance skills were a little rusty, and she had hoped she wouldn’t step on his toes. “Or watching movies. Something quiet.”
“I bet performing for students all week takes it out of you,” Nick said as he pulled away and let her spin beneath his hand.
She landed the twirl without bumping into him. When he pulled her back into his embrace, his hand settled on the small of her back, a soft reminder of the tenderness he displayed on the couch. What’s more, she was a bit surprised by his reaction to her answer. He sounded as if he understood why she led a quiet life. Her friends often called, begging her to leave her apartment, not understanding how she only wanted to rest.
“It’s true,” she said, gazing up at him. “After a week of being in everyone’s face, I really don’t mind alone time.”
He nodded. “I get that. I enjoyed that part of traveling too. There’s something to be said about solitude. Being alone doesn’t mean you’re lonely.”
Even while deep in thought, Nick’s hips kept time with the rhythm of the drums and brass. The more she moved with him, the more her body relaxed and swayed with his. “You’re right, there’s a difference. I guess I’m mindful of how I spend my days off. I love a good brunch with my friends, but when I get home, I crawl into my cozy cocoon.”
“Ooh, what’s in your cocoon?” he asked, spinning her again. “FDR documentaries?”
She laughed as she twirled, feeling a lot steadier on her feet than when they first started. “Maybe a couple documentaries...but mostly soaking in my tub with candles and a good book.”
He groaned deeply as he drew her back into his arms. A sexy sound that vibrated through her chest and clenched her pussy. Sam began singing his famous hit “Cupid” when Nick’s hand rubbed her back in small circles. “How about the cucumber slices on the eyes? You got those too?”
Shea barely heard his question, as she was too focused on the heat between them. She reveled in the comfort of his large hands holding her. She lost herself in the scent of his cologne, a delightful citrus musk that made her eyes fall shut. “Sure,” she said absently as she pulled her hand from his grasp.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and both of his hands fell to her hips. They danced slower than the music’s tempo, but it didn’t matter. Soon, the two began dancing in a world to themselves, far away from the Miami nightclub crowd screaming for Sam. Far from the madness of the outside.
No one existed outside of this man.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked him.
