Page 25 of Naughty Nicky

“Oh, I sleep hot.” I slip under the covers and take a deep breath. The sheets smell just like him. This is so much better than a couch.

“Do you need anything?” he asks.

I shake my head as I burrow deeper under the blankets. “No. God, this bed is so comfortable.”

“I know.”

I look over at him. “You know we are adults. You could just sleep here. I promise I won’t touch you. We can even put pillows up as a barrier between us.”

He rubs his hand over his chin. “I’ll take the couch.”

“You sure?” I rub the spot on the bed next to me. “It’s so warm in here.”

He looks between me and the bed but shakes his head.

“Oh, come on. I can see that look of longing on your face.”

He sighs and to my surprise actually walks over to the bed and sits on the edge. “I haven’t told your brother I’m here because I made a promise to him that I would never come back.”

I freeze. I didn’t expect him to say anything.

“And if he found out I was here, I don’t know what he would say.”

“So, you just lie to him?”

He shrugs. “I mean not really. I just omit the truth.”

“But my parents are lying for you.”

He turns to look at me. “Has Nick ever asked them if they’ve seen me?”

“No because he doesn’t know you’re here!”

“So, they aren’t lying.”

I huff. “No, doofus, they are since they have obviously seen you and have agreed to keep their mouths shut about it.”

“Just omitting the truth.”

“That’s still lying!” I clench my fist. I hate liars, and I hate that he doesn’t see this for what it is.

“I don’t want to disappoint someone else in my life.”

I look up at him, and he’s turned back to looking at the ground. But I can see part of his side profile, and there is pain etched into his face.

I reach over and rest my hand on his arm. “I don’t think Wes would be disappointed if he knew you came back here.”

“Yes, he would.”

“You came back for your dad, that has to mean something.”

He turns to look at me. “Not when the reason I left was because of my dad.”

“Oh.” It’s all I can say. I don’t know the whole story, but it does make some sort of sense, I guess.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He turns and looks at me. “Absolutely not.”

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