Page 71 of Free

I pull into Nick’s driveway, anticipation fluttering in my stomach. Being with him feels like the answer to questions I didn’t know I was asking. Like I spent my whole life underwater and am finally seeing sunlight. When we’re together, my ‘terrier energy’ fades. I don’t have to run or go or do, I can just relax and be. It’s peaceful. And wonderful.

And the sex? Is there a word to describe raw and real and bone-quiveringly awesome? If so, it’s that.

Nick opens the door before I can knock, Sunshine bounding out ahead of him. She circles my legs, her tail a blur of excitement. Nick’s smile is warm, but there’s an energy simmering beneath it, something intense and just out of reach. His eyes flicker over my face, searching, like he’s trying to read me in a language he hasn’t spoken in a while.

“Hey,” I say, stepping inside. “You okay?”

Nick nods, pulling me into a hug and nuzzling my hair. “It’s been a weird day.”

I wrap my arms around his waist, leaning into the solid warmth of him. "Weird how?"

“Weird good. I think.” He kisses the top of my head, but he’s quieter than usual, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. When he finally pulls back, he brushes his knuckles against my cheek before he gestures toward the pictures on the foyer table—photos I’ve seen facedown every other time I’ve been here. Tonight, they’re upright, their rightful place reclaimed. Nick’s hand hovers over one, his fingers brushing the frame like it might burn him. When he finally picks it up, the picture trembles slightly in his grasp. I step closer, peering over his shoulder, drawn into the frozen moment of joy captured in the photo.

“That’s Mark,” he says softly, solemnity threading through his voice. “We came up through boot together. He was with me… that day.”

His voice falters, and my chest tightens as I reach out, tracing the glass. Mark’s grin is infectious, a moment of pure, unguarded joy preserved forever. I can feel the warmth of it, even through the pain woven into Nick’s words.

“His wife came to see me today,” Nick continues, his voice growing thick with emotion. “She’d been reaching out the last couple months. Needed to talk about the accident and I just wasn’t ready. She forced my hand today.”

“And this is what made today good in a weird way?”

He nods. “It was freeing, talking about it. About him—Mark. I’ve been carrying this weight around for so long, and finally, someone who needed to hear it, heard it.”

His brows knit, and for a second, I see the familiar storm brewing behind his eyes. But then, like sunlight breaking through clouds, a smile bursts across his face. It’s not forced or fleeting like before; it’s real, unrestrained, and it takes my breath away. Seeing him like this—it feels like watching a caged birdtake flight for the first time, the weight of the past no longer holding him down.

Not a Band-Aid, I think to myself as he takes the picture from my hands and places it with the others.

I’m good for him.

He’s good for me.

His anxiety is fading.

I feel complete for maybe the first time ever.

The nightmares are gone.

I’m happier than I ever was with Davis. So happy, that Davis’s betrayal doesn’t even hurt. How could it, when I ended up with everything I ever wanted instead of being shackled to a selfish ass?

“Anyway,” Nick says, shoving his hands into his pockets and dipping his chin, “something Kate said got me thinking. You good if we change plans for tonight?”

“As long as I’m with you, I’m good with whatever.” The words come out easily, like they’ve been waiting their whole life to make an appearance.

Nick grins, a smile that could get away with robbery if it tried hard enough. “And I thought I was the one with the cheesy lines.”

“That wasn’t cheesy! That was honest.”

“It was also one thousand percent cheese,” he counters, stepping closer to press a kiss to my forehead, the warmth of his lips lingering longer than the moment itself. “But don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.”

The way he says it, teasing yet impossibly fond, makes me roll my eyes and smile at the same time. He disappears into the kitchen, and I hear the faint shuffle of items and the distinctclinkof something glass. When he returns, he’s holding an honest-to-goodness picnic basket. Like, with a handle andeverything. He’s carrying it like it’s the most normal thing in the world, but my raised brows beg to differ.

“Another woman,” I say, leaning on the wall and narrowing my eyes, “might point out that it’s a little strange for a man to own one of those. She might even go so far as to call it cheesy.”

“Good thing you’re better than that.” Nick slaps my ass, then gives it a squeeze, pulling me against him. “Damn, Charlie. Maybe you’re right. Let’s get naked and forget my plans.”

“Do you really think you’re gonna walk out here carrying an actual picnic basket like it’s no big deal, and I’m just gonna let it go? And here I thought you understood me better than anyone.”

Nick huffs a laugh and we head out to his truck. The music is good. His smile is better. Before long we pull to a stop in front of the pier we met on before everything fell to pieces. I turn to him with a quizzical look and he gives me a sheepish smile as he climbs out of the cab and collects the picnic basket.

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