Every Wrong Reason(35)

He barely acknowledged it. “I’ll grab plates. You take all that to the couch.”

“Okay.”

I moved robotically through the living room and set the pizzas on the coffee table. I’d ordered him his meat lovers with extra mushrooms and olives. I’d gotten a supreme pizza for myself-no olives or mushrooms, extra tomatoes. I set the breadsticks in the middle.

I had just sat down when he came back holding plates, napkins and two bottles of beer. “Is this okay?” He lifted the beer in my direction.

“It’s fine.” I didn’t honestly know if drinking around Nick was the best idea tonight, but surely one beer wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it would relax me. I desperately needed something to take this sharp edge off.

He handed me my beer and a plate with a smile, then plopped down in his seat, a little closer to me than the first time. I took a breath and ordered my mind to stop reading into every little thing. It was so stupid.

I was so stupid.

“Nice,” he grinned at his pizza. “Why didn’t we think of this forever ago?”

I scooted forward, a little closer to him too, but just so I could reach the food. “I think I was trying to make a point. It’s dumb, right?”

He gave me a sideways look and a crooked smile. “I can’t confirm that it’s dumb because then I’d have to admit to being dumb too. I have too much ego for that.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling, but he elbowed me in the side and I let it go, grinning at him and shaking my head. “We can be idiots.”

I thought he would laugh or smile or do anything but sober up completely and stare at me with that hot, penetrating emotion that seemed to follow him around everywhere tonight. “We can be,” he said in a low voice.

I turned back to the TV and took a big bite of pizza. Why did he make me so nervous tonight? Why did his words feel so ominous?

He picked one of our shows to watch, one that we were super far behind in since we’d spent so many months not watching it and we dug into our pizza.

We didn’t talk much as the show went on, just mostly ate in silence.

At some point I realized he didn’t have a date with someone else tonight. My insane jealous was for nothing. I decided to ignore the intense relief that flooded my body from head to toe.

I tried to tamp my relief by reminding myself that he would eventually start dating.

I would have to face it eventually.

Eventually.

But not tonight.

“Another one?” he asked as that show ended and he grabbed another piece of pizza.

“Sure,” I whispered.

Late evening turned into night as we spent another hour quiet and involved in our show. Occasionally he would make a comment or I would gasp in surprise, but mostly our interaction dealt with the pizza that was slowly disappearing in front of us.

After another show, he paused the TV to use the restroom and grab another beer. When he came back into the room, he flicked the lights off and settled in the middle of the couch without asking permission or checking to see if it was okay.

I didn’t know why, but I didn’t object or even make a comment.

After the next episode had ended, he said, “You know, if you’re not watching this without me, we should probably watch another one. Just in case, we don’t get to find out what happens.”

“That’s a good point,” I conceded.

He turned his head toward me and captured my gaze. For a minute, we just stared at each other. Nothing was said. Nothing was thought. I wasn’t even sure I took a breath.

I wasn’t sure I could have taken a breath if I tried.

He leaned over, bringing his body closer to mine. We had somehow managed to scoot closer and closer during the night. Now, I could feel the warmth of his body. Sometimes if he moved, his leg would press into mine for just a brief moment or his elbow would graze my arm.

I could smell him again.

And it was intoxicating.

I licked my dry lips and tried to find sanity… rationalization. I tried to remember our divorce or what had led up to it. I tried to argue my way out of this craziness I’d walked into willingly.

“Kate,” he whispered and his voice went straight to my heart, straight to my core.

Afraid of this moment, of our truce, of every single thing about him, I turned back to the TV and gave it my attention. Or at least pretended to.

I couldn’t see anything in front of me or comprehend what was going on. But I couldn’t face whatever it was that Nick wanted to say. I couldn’t stare at him for a second longer and not lose myself completely.

He seemed to realize that I had shut down because he turned back to the show without another word.

In fact, we didn’t speak to each other again for the rest of the night.

I had been planning to ask him to leave after the next show, but there was a cliffhanger and I was desperate to find out what happened. The show kept going and going, we hadn’t watched it all summer and there were plenty of episodes to catch up on. Finally, I could focus on what was happening and not the man sitting next to me that I couldn’t untangle myself from.

But my mind was never far from him.

And apparently my body wasn’t either.

I must have fallen asleep at some point because one second I had been blinking slowly, trying to stay involved with the plot, the next I felt fingers threading through my hair, brushing gently behind my ear.