Alcohol You Later (55)

A soft breeze rustles through the trees, and birds chirp happily in the distance. Fish can actually be heard jumping in the water. I haven’t been so immersed in the unblemished sounds of nature in so long, it’s almost a shock to my system.

An instant calm falls over me. This place is serenity defined.

“I take it you approve?”

“Uh, yeah,” I stammer. “Nick, this is amazing.”

“And completely off the grid,” he says, swinging his car door open. “Let’s go check it out.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

Nick slings the bag over one shoulder and takes me by the hand. Lacing our fingers, he tugs me toward the house. I barely hear a word he says as we make our way up the stone steps to the massive set of doors, because I’m so focused on the sights and sounds around me.

Another keypad. Another passcode. It’s all so convenient and smart. Apparently actual keys are becoming a thing of the past. At least in the circles he runs.

The inside is an absolute dream—like walking onto the set of a Hallmark movie. It’s cozy and inviting. The living room is fitted with plush leather couches covered in coordinating throw pillows in various shades of burnt orange, mustard, and rust. The focal point of this space, however, is a colossal, floor to ceiling stone fireplace.

“There’s already a fire going?” This is insane to me, because it must be at least ninety degrees out, but for the sake of ambiance, it really pulls it all together. Even with the fireplace going, the inside temperature is comfortable. They must’ve cranked the AC up to accommodate.

He smiles, smoothing a hand up and down my back. “Had the groundskeeper come in and freshen the place up, light a fire, and drop off some groceries.”

I widen my eyes. “Well, aren’t you fancy?”

“Never got to make those steaks and taters for ya yet.” He motions for me to follow him into the kitchen. It’s just as impressive as everything else, a set up worthy of its own cooking show. He pulls the fridge open, inspecting its contents. “Perfect. She got the right ones.”

I shake my head and smile at the microwaveable garlic and herb potatoes sitting on the top shelf.

“You’re so good to me.” I rise to my toes, planting a chaste kiss to the bottom of his chin, the only spot I can reach when he’s standing at his full height. “Thank you.”

“There’s wine in the butler’s pantry if you’d like to pick out a bottle…” He gnaws his lip. “I’m going to refrain.”

“I don’t need to drink, Nick. Just being near you has me intoxicated on pheromones.” I smooth a hand down the front of his white tee. His muscles strain beneath my touch, his biceps stretching the cotton fabric as they flex. I can feel his heartrate increasing.

He nods. “Just don’t want you thinking you have to deny yourself because of me.”

“I have everything I need,” I say, linking my hands behind his neck, “right here.”

He grips my thighs and lifts, and I curl my legs around his waist, burying my hands in his hair.

“I miss us,” he rasps, the heat of his breath caressing my lips. “So much.”

“Me too.” I feel dizzy with want, like I’m floating on air.

He brushes his nose over mine, his eyes fluttering closed as he nuzzles his way along my cheek to my ear.

“Nick,” I sigh.

“Really wanna kiss you, pretty girl.” Nick’s voice is filled with so much yearning. He nips my lobe, sucking softly.

“What’s stopping you?” My chest heaves, and my breath’s heady with anticipation.

He works his way along my jaw, nipping and kissing until he’s back at my mouth, hovering just out of reach. “Wasn’t sure you were ready yet. I don’t want to take anything for granted.”

Because I asked him not to kiss me the other night…

“That was different,” I say, licking my lips. “We’re on a date. And just because we’re starting over doesn’t mean we’re back at ground zero. I know what I’m missing, and it’s fucking painful, Nick.”

“That so?” He growls low in his throat, his eyes becoming hooded.

“Besides.” I give him a flirty smile. “You know better than anyone…I totally put out on the first date.”

With a feral groan, his mouth crushes against mine.

Fireworks explode behind my eyelids as our tongues meet in frenzied strokes. Passion ignites, turning my blood into molten lava. I can feel it burn through my veins as it rushes to collect in my core. It’s a kiss filled with longing and desire and remorse, with the most delicious promise of forever infused in every brush of our lips.

Nick sits me on the counter, cupping the sides of my face in both hands. Heaving for breath, he breaks away briefly and locks eyes with mine, the regret in our circumstances obvious. Raw and exposed, he brushes a thumb over my swollen lips. “I’m sorry, Ray.” His forehead rests against mine and his fingers dig into my hair, mussing my braids. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

I nod, biting back tears. I can’t find words…don’t think I’d be able to speak past the lump in my throat if I could. So, I stroke the side of his face and nip at his lips, hoping he can see the forgiveness in my eyes. Feel it in the gentleness of my touch. The same way I taste the repentance on his tongue and hear the apology in his every labored breath.