Page 11 of Big Nick Energy

“You,” he conformed with a confidence that was undeniably sexy. But then again, that was Nick Marsh. Everything he did had this bigger-than-life energy to it. “Would you like to go out with me?” he asked, like he wasn’t rocking my entire world, unknowingly handing me the key to almost every dirty, forbidden fantasy I had ever had.

“Go out?” I squeaked. “With you?” I was an idiot! I should have said a hard yes. Yes! I’d go out and do anything he wanted, but I was still a girl. One who had been raised by a single mom and had been taught from an early age to be smart when it came to men.

“Am I too old for you?” he asked. His hand dropped from my face before he retreated. I didn’t like the loss of his touch and acted before I thought about what I was doing. I grabbed his hand back, and he froze. It was the first time I had initiated any kind of touch between us.

“You’re not too old for me. I’m almost twenty,” I shared even though by the way he was looking at me, I had a feeling he knew.

“Blanca,” he warned.

“I just… you saw me as a kid,” I blurted out. God, I was terrible at flirting!

No. That wasn’t true.

I could flirt, just not with Nick. There was something about the man who made me feel all warm and fuzzy while feeling discombobulated at the same time.

“Excuse me?” he asked roughly.

“Last time, at the mall,” I reminded him. “You said you wanted to buy me that dress because I was a great kid.” My eyes dropped from his face and moved down to the hand I was holding before drifting to the slice of pie he had brought for me.

“I didn’t mean?—"

I cut him off. “Did you know that was my favorite?” I asked, my eyes drawing up to connect with his.

“Yes,” he answered in a way I shivered, but not exactly in a bad way. Something inside me told me to get out. To go home. That this, him showing up out of nowhere, finally talking to me, acknowledging my presence after so long of me noticing him around wasn’t right.

But the part of me that always wondered if he was around because destiny had a sense of humor or maybe, just maybe, he was interested won.

“How?” I asked softly, and even through the darkness that cloaked us inside the cab of his truck, I noticed the way the tips of his ears turned brighter.

“I remember you and Noah talking about it. I think it was the second time you came over, and we were having dinner, talking about––“

“Birthdays,” I cut him off and blinked. That sliver of trepidation slipped away. “I forgot about that,” I accidentally said out loud.

“You said you would rather have an apple pie with vanilla ice cream over birthday cake any day of the week,” he reminded me, and my heart flipped inside my chest. I chewed on my bottom lip. Not a second later, I felt his eyes on my mouth.

“Don’t do that, baby. You’re going to bruise.” His hand rose and pulled my lip from my teeth, and all I wanted to do was wrap my lips around his thick thumb and suck it. But I didn’t. He didn’t drop his hand; he just cupped my face. I fought myselffrom shutting my eyes and leaning into his caress like everything inside of me wanted to.

“What’s going on here, Mr.—"

“Nick.”

“Mr. Nick,” I asked in a teasing tone, knowing that’s not what he wanted me to call him. There was something else I’d rather call him. Something forbidden and kinky that would probably weird him the hell out if he knew.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked again. This time, I didn’t hesitate to answer. I nodded. I saw relief wash over him.

“Good.” He winked before handing me the plate. “You want to eat it here or at home?” he asked. My eyes dropped to the dash of his truck, and I sighed. I wanted to stay and hang out, but it was late, a little after two, and I had to be back by nine in the morning. Long holiday weekends were great unless you worked.

“I should get going,” I whispered even though it was just the two of us.

“Okay, then.” He stroked my face one more time before I lost his touch, and I watched him get out of the truck. Before I could open my door, he was there. I took his extended hand before hopping out. He helped me into my car, and I set the apple pie on the passenger side.

“Seatbelt,” he reminded me, and I nodded. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six.”

“Tomorrow?? Shit. I mean shoot.” His eyes gleamed and darkened at the way I corrected my curse word. “Umm, I have to stop by my mom’s tomorrow.”

“Okay, then.” He nodded, and because there was no way I would take back the invitation he had given me, not once but twice, I tried to make up for it.

“But I have Saturday off,” I shared, and once again, Nick Marsh rocked my world.

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