“You know it’s really not a bother if you stay here. I’m just glad you aren’t in your car. You never would have survived the storm in there with just a box of macarons.”
“Two boxes.”
He laughs. “Either way. It’s better that you’re here.”
I nod. Because I am not so sure it is. Not when I can feel that crush I had years ago on this man resurfacing. Especially because he was just a boy back then, but now, now Nick is all man, and I don’t think I am going to survive being in close quarters with him at all.
4
PENELOPE
Awkward silence takes over again. Nick runs his hand through his hair, and I can just tell he feels as awkward as I do. Flashes of the naked picture of him enter my brain, and I try not to look at his sweats again. I really do. But I can’t help it. This man is seriously packing.
He hesitates before he speaks. “I’m just going to go check the generator in case we lose power.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
He walks away quickly, and of course my eyes go right to his ass as he makes his way to the doorway that leads to the garage underneath the house.
I wring my hands in front of me not sure what to do. I really don’t know how long I am going to be stuck here with him, but if anything Mom said was true about the storm, it could be a few days. And I don’t think I can survive the awkwardness for a few days.
Why did I have to snoop around his art studio? I could have just looked at some of his photographs and called it a day. But no, I needed to be my nosey self and try to get a glimpse of who Nick Snow is now. He definitely isn’t the kid from high schoolI remember, nor is he the young adult who had Thanksgiving dinner with us that one night six years ago. He’s a totally different person now, and I hate that I want to know him so badly.
My schoolgirl crush is coming back.
I groan out loud. Why is this happening to me?
I try to stop listening to the thoughts in my head and make my way around his living room. It’s barely decorated, no art on the walls, no knickknacks on the shelves. It’s like he is just renting the place, waiting to leave.
I walk into the kitchen, not really sure what I am looking for. But then I see a glass cabinet in the corner filled with an array of booze.
Well, this is one way to break the awkwardness, I think.
I find a bottle of whiskey and then peruse the cabinets until I find some glasses and pour myself a strong pour. I am not even a whiskey girl. I’m more of a fruity cocktail girl, give me something with ten pounds of sugar and I will drink ten of them. But straight booze, not really my thing. But I highly doubt Nick has anything to make a strawberry daiquiri, so I’ll settle for whiskey. No way am I drinking straight vodka.
I gag as I bring the glass to my lips, the smell of the liquor strong. But I don’t think and just throw the glass back. I nearly choke as it slides down my throat in a burning river.
I cough as my eyes water, but I don’t back down and pour myself another glass. This time I sip it, not needing to feel the rush of the booze hit immediately. I make my way back to the living room and sit in front of the fireplace again, picking up a book off the coffee table. This book is not my kind of book either. I much prefer rom-coms to the classics, but I highly doubt I am going to find some mindless smut sitting on the coffee table.
I flip through the pages of the book, trying to see if I can get into it while sipping on my whiskey when Nick walks backthrough the door, a smattering of snowflakes sitting in his dark brown locks.
He looks at me sprawled across the rug in front of the fireplace and then to the glass of whiskey sitting at my fingertips.
“Generator is good to go.”
“Great,” I respond.
He nods toward the glass in my hand. “So, are we drinking tonight?”
I look at the glass and then at him. “I guess so.”
“Thank fuck. I was beginning to think we were just going to stare at each other awkwardly.”
I bark out a laugh. “I mean it’s probably still going to be awkward.”
He shrugs. “I guess you’re right.”
“I did see you naked,” I tease.