Boyfriend for Hire(33)
When I reach Nic’s place and see his black Tesla parked out front, my mood changes from worried to pissed off.
I take the elevator to his floor and knock on his door. Then I take a step back, placing my hands on my hips in anticipation of what’s about to happen. I’m so mad now I’m practically shaking. But I’m here to get answers. And if he acts like a total asshole, I am so out of here.
After a few moments, I hear footsteps from inside, and Nic opens the door. We stare at each other for a moment, and I can tell immediately that something’s wrong. I’m fully ready to ask him what the hell is going on when I pause to take in his disheveled hair and his deep brown eyes, which are more heavily lidded than usual.
“Elle,” he says, his voice cracking. He places one tanned hand against the door frame as he takes me in. “What are you doing here?” he asks, slurring his words slightly.
“Are you drunk?” I ask, incredulous. I don’t know what I was expecting when I came here, but it wasn’t to see calm, cool, and collected Nic drunk like he’s just attended his first frat party.
He shakes his head as he leans against the door frame. Despite how mad I am, I can’t help but notice how good he looks in his casual T-shirt and jeans. It isn’t fair. How does he still look this sexy, even when he’s totally obliterated?
“I had a few drinks with a friend last night.” He shrugs.
He looks at me again, not quite meeting my eyes, and I can see that he’s anxious about something. I can also tell that he had more than just a few drinks, but I decide not to push it.
“You caught me at a really bad time. You should go.”
“What’s going on with you?” I demand, ignoring him. “I was worried sick about you.”
“Elle, can we please not do this right now?” He rubs his face in his hands, letting out a little sigh.
“Yes, we’re going to do this now. You invite me over, cook for me, and then you totally ghosted me.” I push my way past him into the apartment. He doesn’t try to stop me, probably because he can barely stand up straight. “Who does that?”
“Please, can we talk about anything but that?” he pleads, watching me as I set my purse down and turn back to face him.
I notice the empty beer cans strewn across the coffee table, along with a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Then I take him in again. He’s still leaning against the door, and he looks miserable.
My anger fades as I look into his eyes. I can tell that whatever’s going on, he really is torn up about it. And if it is actually something serious, I don’t want to come in here and be a total bitch just because he didn’t text me for a few days.
“When’s the last time you ate?” I ask, my voice softening.
He shrugs. “Earlier today, I guess.”
“Come,” I say as I walk into his kitchen and pull open the cupboards, checking out what he has.
He follows me, standing uncertainly in the kitchen doorway. I fill a glass of water and set it down on the table, then I grab his hand and lead him to a chair.
“Sit. And drink this.” I’m still annoyed that he blew me off, but I’m willing to believe he has a decent reason for it.
As he drinks his water, I pull ingredients out of the fridge and put together a quick stir fry, figuring the rice will soak up some of the alcohol. I glance at him as I cook, making sure he’s drinking the water. After a lifetime of always being the designated driver, I’ve had plenty of practice playing nurse for highly intoxicated people. And although the only place I really want to play nurse with Nic is in the bedroom, it’s my instinct to help him right now.
Fifteen minutes later, I set two steaming plates on the table, where he’s holding his head in his hands. I fish out two Advil from my purse and set them next to the plate of food.
“Take these,” I say, refilling his water.
He lifts his head from his hands as I bring him a fresh glass of water. He seems embarrassed, and it’s understandable. After all, I was in his position a couple of weeks ago, and I know it’s not a great feeling to be obnoxiously drunk in front of the person you were hoping to sleep with.
“Here, eat this. It will help,” I say gently, pushing his plate toward him.
“Why are you being so nice?” he asks quietly after he swallows the pills.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly, and then pause for a moment. “I guess you just seem like you need some kindness right now.”
There’s something about him that I can’t be mad at. I came here ready to demand answers, but I guess my motherly instincts took over. Or maybe it’s that every time I look into those brown eyes, I can’t think about anything except for how gorgeous he is. I’m only human, after all.
Nic nods, giving me a weak smile. I can already tell he’s becoming more like himself again as he holds my gaze. I look away and gesture at him to start eating. He eats quickly, without speaking, finishing his food in just a few minutes.
Since it’s dinnertime, I eat alongside him quietly, even though I’m completely curious about what happened to make him go off the deep end like this.
“Maybe I’m just drunk, but this is really good,” he says, glancing at me as he takes his last bite.
“It should be good hangover food.” I smile, shrugging. “So hopefully you won’t feel like you’ve been hit by a Mack truck when you wake up tomorrow.”