Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(23)

Nicole shrieked when I landed beside her, her head snapping up, her hands wiping her bewildered, tear-stricken eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I looked at her for a beat before stepping in front of her. “I’m telling you up front. I don’t know how to deal with emotional women, and if you don’t want me here, tell me, and I’ll jump back over to my corner and pretend I never saw you.”

She opened her mouth to say something, and closed it again, a slight frown on her face. “I don’t.”

Okay. Easy enough. I turned back around and just as I was about to climb on the balcony, she held my hand to stop me. I closed my eyes at the jolt. I felt her touch everywhere. What was up with that? Had it always been that way? It’d been so long, and I’d been so young and stupid, I couldn’t even remember.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered. I opened my eyes and turned around, my hand still in hers as our eyes met.

“You said you didn’t want me here,” I whispered back, stepping closer. What I wanted was to scoop her up and put her on my lap. I wouldn’t, though. Couldn’t.

“Stay anyway,” she said. “You could have broken your neck trying to get over here. I don’t want your efforts to be in vain.”

I chuckled, dropping my hand from hers as I walked to the chair beside her, taking a seat there. “You wanna talk about it?”

She sighed. “Not really. It’s bad enough you saw me crying, and really, it’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

I resisted the urge to reach over and cover her hand with mine in an attempt to comfort her. Instead, I scooted my chair closer to hers, so we were both facing the ocean.

“It’s not stupid if you’re emotional over it,” I said, my eyes on the ocean, on the waves that splashed and disappeared out in the far distance, on the sailboats beyond them. I didn’t do well with comforting emotional women, but having Estelle for a sister had taught me enough on how to deal with them, and I knew it wasn’t wise to dismiss her current state.

“I don’t want to talk to the media at all,” she said after a few long beats. I looked over at her; she was looking out into the distance, so I had a chance to study her soft features, her small nose, and the apples of her cheeks.

“So don’t.”

She sighed. “It’s not that simple. They ask. They always ask. This morning I got a call from a magazine that wants to run a story. I’m sure they got my number from Gabe’s manager since he was the one who suggested it, but the thing is, there is no story here.”

“They always find a story.”

She shook her head, turning it to meet my gaze. “I would never give them a juicy one. I would never sell him out like that.”

Her words shouldn’t have made me feel anything, but I felt pride in her and annoyance in myself—in my old self—the one who’d thought she would have been responsible for us getting caught. The one who thought she’d throw me under the bus if the day ever came where she had to pick between the two of us, and my career would go out the window.

“You’re a good person, Nic,” I said. “And Gabriel is an idiot.”

“Men usually are,” she said, her lips curling into a small smile.

I looked at her mouth for a moment, desperate to lean into her. I’d had her lips on mine a few days ago, and I wanted them there again, but I couldn’t do it, and I definitely wouldn’t be the one making the move. Maybe it was unfair of me to want something this badly and not be willing to work for it. But I knew if I did work for it—if I did go after her—I’d go all the way, and I couldn’t afford to do that.

“We are,” I replied. “We’re complete idiots. You should remember that.”

“My eyes are wide open, Victor. I know you think they’re not, but they always have been. This thing between us,” she shook her head, exhaling, “it was good, and I know why you ended it when you did. I get it, but I don’t think either one of us used the other. I think we were what we needed to be for each other at the time, and it’s okay.”

“Even if you did want it to be more, which I’m assuming you did,” I said, hoping she understood I was referring to her marriage.

I didn’t want to bring that up and tie it to me in any way, but I really wanted to f*cking know why she jumped into such a serious relationship so quickly. I needed to know if I pushed her to it. She laughed.

“I guess we’ll never know,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she said the words. I scowled and she laughed again, but that was cut short by a loud knock on her door, and we both looked at each other, wide-eyed. “Stay here,” she whispered.

I stood up and hid behind the French door, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t walk inside. I felt sixteen again, my heart thumping in my chest as I listened to her talk with who I assumed was Meire. Instead of waiting around, I jumped back over to my balcony and sat in one of the chairs, my heart still pounding. Nicole walked back out onto her balcony shortly after, her head whipping over to me. She smiled.

“Got scared?”

“Fuck, yeah,” I said honestly. She rolled her eyes, walking over to the part closest to me. I did the same, meeting her there. We both put our elbows on the balconies.

“You used to f*ck me in your office, but you can’t be caught in my room,” she said, raising an eyebrow. My heart jumped at the mention of that. My dick was already halfway to hard at the mere mention of us f*cking. I closed my eyes, tried not to picture it, but ended up with a mental image of Nicole’s face between my legs, her eyes looking into mine as she sucked my cock. I groaned.