Page 55 of Naughty Nicky

“I don’t,” she says. “But I also think your Derrick was my Mikey. I think all this time you were waiting for Nick.”

Hope flutters against my ribs for the first time in two days. “You really think that?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t think it’s wrong that I have feelings for Wesley’s best friend?”

She laughs heartily. “Honey, back in the day before internet and cell phones and online dating, everyone was dating their friends’ brothers and sisters. The world felt a lot smaller.”

“Wes is never going to allow it.”

“And Wes isn’t your keeper.”

I go to make another excuse but can’t seem to find one.

“And don’t worry, I’ve already talked to Wes and told him he needs to grow up and get over it. He’s not Nick’s keeper either.”

My jaw drops. “You really said that?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” She stands and pulls the blankets off me. “Now how about you get dressed? Take a shower first though. Then come downstairs and have dinner with your family.”

I can’t say no to my mom, especially after she stood up for me, so I reluctantly get out of bed and try to put on a smile for the rest of my family.

I grab my car keys and quietly sneak out the door. I haven’t heard from Nick in three days, but at some point he called a tow truck and had the FJ pulled out of the snowbank and delivered to my house. I’m sure Dad helped, but no one really said anything about it at dinner last night.

It’s just past six in the morning, and no one is awake yet. I know my plan is stupid, but I don’t know what else to do. Nick isn’t returning my text or phone calls. I even tried reaching him on his landline, but it just rang and rang. Part of me is worried that something is wrong but the larger part of me knows that he is just trying to keep his distance.

But I’m done with that. If he wants to keep his distance, he can tell me to my face. But I am not going to let him suffer over something he doesn’t need to suffer about.

I mean I am pretty sure Wes still hates him, but I don’t care. Wes can fuck a duck for all I care. He was at least cordial to me last night at dinner, but we didn’t talk much, and I know everyone felt the tension. Even when Dad tried to cut it with a knife. It didn’t work.

I went to bed not long after dinner, and I heard both my parents talking to Wes in what sounded like another lecture, probably just telling him to treat me like a human today rather than a leper.

I make my way down the quiet mountain road that leads to Nick’s house and pull into his driveway just after six thirty. We spent our mornings together tied up in sheets, but I think I know Nick, and I know he is a morning person. At least I freaking hope so.

I park in his driveway and say a silent prayer he lets me inside to talk to him.

That’s all I want. To talk. After the three days of complete radio silence.

I walk to the front door and ring his doorbell, praying to God he answers.

A few minutes pass, and nothing happens. I ring the bell again, and then I see a light come on in the garage. A few seconds later Nick opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung sweats, and I have to fight myself to not reach for him. Because all I can think about is him being mine again.

“What are you doing here, Pen?” he says with a bitter taste to his words. I study his face, and his eye is still partially swollen and a bruise mars his jaw.

“It’s Christmas.”

“And?”

I sigh. “Can I just come inside? It’s cold out here.”

He looks around then nods, holding the door open to let me in. I kick off my boots, yes I actually wore snow boots, and head up the stairs to get to the living room since I really don’t want to have this talk in his garage.

When we get upstairs, we both stand awkwardly in the living room neither of us saying anything.

I break the silence though. “Thanks so much for getting my car towed.”

“Not a problem.”

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