Page 51 of Take What You Want

I should’ve thought about it earlier. Of course Nikolai wouldn’t want to go out tonight. There’s no way he would risk being out and having fireworks go off.

It was only last fall that I saw him spiral into panic when fireworks went off at the final Whisper Me Nothings show. Both he and Hayden froze onstage, thrown back to the worst experience of their lives. They couldn’t differentiate the pops of colorful explosions in the sky and the rapid gunfire that forever changed their lives.

I couldn’t be there for him at that festival show, but I can be there for him now. Without allowing myself to overthink it, I scoot to the other side of the booth and tuck myself into his side. He instantly lifts his arm and pulls me into him, draping his arm across my shoulder. I lean my head onto his shoulder and squeeze his thigh with my left hand.

He’s warm and familiar, and I don’t know at this point who is comforting who as he places a warm palm over my own leg. I think back to his words in the kitchen the first night I got here. The ones I cut him off from saying but have been replaying in my head over and over again, wondering what would’ve happened if I let him say what I knew he was about to.

Nikolai shifts and pops one side of the headphones off, the one closer to me.

“No,” I say, reaching up and replacing it. “It’s okay.”

He raises a brow, and I smile reassuringly.

“I can hear it just fine,” I joke, and he must be able to read my lips because he cracks a small smile and settles back in. My head rests against his shoulder, and I stare ahead at the padded foam wall opposite of us, listening as his playlist shuffles from one song to the next.

After a few songs, he says, “You don’t have to sit here, you know.”

He doesn’t look at me as he says it, nor does he take the headphones off to hear my response.

I don’t bother answering him. I just snake one arm behind his back and lay the other across his chest, clinging to him and resting my head on his chest. His arms instantly wrap around me and our chests begin to rise and fall in sync with each other.

I know I don’t have to be here, but there isn’t anywhere I would rather be.

9 YEARS AGO

JANE

“I like when you lie on top of me,” I say, my words muffled by Nikolai’s chest.

The bed shakes as he laughs, and I join him, the two of us creating a melody sweeter than anything he sings onstage. What was supposed to be a one-time thing, a friend helping out a friend, has turned into us spending every moment together the last two months.

“You wouldn’t like it if I fell asleep like this.” His breath is hot against my neck as he tucks his head into my shoulder. I cling to him, relishing the way he melts on top of me.

“Yes, I would.”

“I’d suffocate you.”

“No, you’re just like my own personal weighted blanket.”

He chuckles as he rolls off, and a chill replaces his presence. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“Lie here and stare at the ceiling.”

He playfully pokes my side and I swat his hand away.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Maybe.”

“Like what?” I roll onto my side and prop my head on a fist. “Our options are kind of limited.”

He grimaces. “We could tell him, you know.”

I shake my head, but he continues, “I hate lying to him. And I hated even more at our show last night that I couldn’t kiss you afterward.”

“I don’t like it either.” I pick at a loose thread of the worn comforter. “But we still haven’t even…” I trail off and cover it with a cough.

What I wanted to say was that we haven’t even talked about whatthisis between us. And I think we should figure that out first before telling my brother, or even the rest of our friends. But it’s a conversation I’ve been avoiding because I don’t know what this is to him. Am I just someone to bide his time with until someone prettier comes along? Am I just another one of his flings that he’ll eventually drop for the next best thing?

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