Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(43)

“I’ll help with whatever you need,” I said, swallowing thickly.

My eyes were on her breasts, which were covered in that stupid Mowgli’s shirt she wore. I was a fan of the band, but not when I couldn’t make out whether or not she was wearing a bra, though I’m pretty sure she was. I looked back into her blue eyes; they were soft and light, the color of a cloudless sunny day. Fucking perfect, like she was.

“Do you guys want something to eat? I have leftovers from last night,” Estelle called out from the kitchen.

I cleared my throat. Nicole sighed and stood up. She leaned down and her hair cascaded over both sides of my face as she placed a kiss on the left side of my neck. I closed my eyes, wishing I was free to pull her onto my lap and kiss her.

“That depends,” I said loudly so Estelle could hear me. “What did you eat last night?”

“Black bean burgers,” she said.

“On bread?” I asked. Oliver had a thing about bread. They normally didn’t keep any in their house.

“Lettuce.”

I rolled my eyes, pivoting my torso to look at Nicole, who was typing on her phone.

“You want black bean burgers on lettuce?” I asked. She looked up, blinking. I repeated the question, and she nodded.

“Sure. That sounds great.”

“We’ll have some,” I shouted as I went back to work. I stood up with the measuring tape and started to mark the wall.

“Okay, it’s ready.”

I set the pencil and tape measure on the floor. We walked to the kitchen together, playfully bumping at each other like high school crushes on their way to their next period. Before we reached the open doorframe that led to the kitchen, I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her to kiss her temple. It was a quick move. I dropped my arm as quickly as I’d pulled her to me. She stopped walking, though. And I stopped walking. Her lips were parted as if she had something on the tip of her tongue, but instead she shook her head, blinked it away, and smiled as she stepped into the kitchen. I wanted to pull her against me and ask her what she was about to say. I wanted to slither my way into every single crevice of her mind and dig until I found her deepest thoughts, her darkest flaws. I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t, so instead, I followed her into the kitchen and sat beside her at the small wooden table in Estelle’s kitchen.

Estelle and Nicole talked about food and wine as I ate and watched the animated way Nicole moved her hands when she spoke. I had to make a conscious effort to look away from her. I looked at my empty plate instead, but when Estelle brought up the subject of the media, my eyes found their way back on Nicole’s face. I couldn’t help but notice the way her smile dropped, and the light in her eyes dimmed. She shot a quick glance my way before giving a slight shrug and a little smile that upturned the side of her mouth just slightly.

“I don’t think they’ll follow me around anymore. I’m not that interesting. They only really follow me when I’m with Gabe anyway,” she replied.

It was stupid that it bothered me when she called him that, right? She’d been with him for a long time. She could call him babe and I shouldn’t care. But I did. And it irked me. Why the f*ck did I care? It was a nickname. Then again, even if she called him by his full name at this point it would bother me. Maybe I wouldn’t care if he was being amicable, but to get a call from her and know she’d been crying . . . I wasn’t okay with that shit. We spent the rest of our time eating and talking about Nicole’s new place on the beach. She took down Estelle’s number and promised to invite her over. I excused myself from the table when I finished because I really needed to drop by the office to pick up some files before I went home for the night, and that had to wait until after I finished putting the TV up and dropped off Nicole.

I was almost finished drilling the stand when I heard footsteps approach. I glanced over my shoulder and looked at my sister, who had her arms crossed as she watched me. She came closer. I looked around but Nicole was nowhere in sight, and for a fleeting moment I panicked and thought she’d left.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Estelle said.

I swallowed and nodded.

“You look at her funny.”

“Funny how?” I asked, lowering my arms.

She shrugged. “Just funny. Like how you used to look at Jenny Doherty.”

I felt my lips twitch at the mention of Jenny. She’d been the only girl I’d dated for well over a year. I wasn’t a player. Maybe back in high school I had been, but I’d had long-term girlfriends. It was just that my definition of long-term and my sister’s definition of long-term differed. Jenny had been a catch, though. She’d been top of our class and once we graduated and I went to law school, she’d done the same in Connecticut. And then she’d met another guy and married him and started a family. We’d been broken up for years by then, but I still had fond memories of her.

I always thought if I settled down it would have to be with somebody like that. Not somebody who was as smart or as pretty, but somebody who cared about something other than her appearance or the amount of money in my bank account. Somebody who had a balance. That seemed like a simple request, but it wasn’t. Not these days anyway, when everything was about Instagram follows and Facebook likes, and who thought you were pretty and who didn’t. I would say that only extended to LA, but Jensen was in New York and had the same experience when he was dating, and I had clients who had more money than God and were in the same predicament.