Page 15 of Second Chances with St. Nick

I let out a little chuckle, lifting the corners of my lips higher. “According to everyone in school, the two of us were nerds. He played the violin, and I was plain and smart. The cooler kids hated us. I mean,reallyhated us.”

Nick put his glass down on the table next to the couch. “You don’t look like a ‘nerd’ now.”

I nibbled on my lower lip, selecting my words. Working out how to tell him everything without making him run for the hills… again. After a few seconds, I spoke. “Well, as time passed, I grew prettier. Unfortunately, I grew weaker too, and I let Nicholas down.”

I nestled into Nick’s soothing warmth. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his thumb continued its circles on my arm.

“After I ditched my glasses, I got a lot of attention from boys. They’d never noticed me inthatway before, and man, it felt good to be seen. To be admired. Not laughed at.”

Nick let out a tiny growl next to me. Not an angry noise. More like he was shifting the breath around his body. “So?” he prompted, his voice whisper quiet.

“So, it wasn’t long until I’d morphed into one of the popular kids, while Nicholas stayed the same.” I tightened my fingers around my glass. “The interest I got flattered me. I never had somany compliments. I craved the attention and the excitement. Having power like that was something so new to me.”

“I can imagine,” Nick murmured, his thumb still skimming my arm.

Could he, though? Could he really understand what drove my stupid choices? I shook my head. “But it wasn’t all good. I drifted away from my best friend. The one person who’d always been there for me. I should’ve been stronger, but we were so young, and I’d become so wrapped up in my world that I forgot who I was inside.”

Nick stopped his thumb’s slow journey around my shoulder. I swallowed hard. These words were the ones that I’d dreamed of saying a million times, but now I had the chance, they lodged firmly in my throat.

“Then one day, Nick came to see me.”

After a long pause, he began his thumb’s caress again.

“He told me he wanted to be more than friends. Said he loved me. Asked me to the Snowball with him.” I turned to face Nick. “It’s our town’s big Christmas celebration. I promised I’d go, but when the night came, I let my ego take over. Instead of meeting Nick, I went to the ball with Pine Springs’ star quarterback.”

Nick let out a tiny breath next to me and invisible fingers grabbed at my gut, twisting hard.

“I know. It’s bad,” I said. “Nick still showed up for our date, but instead of meeting his oldest friend, he met ridicule.” I fidgeted with the corner of my robe. “That same quarterback had bullied Nick for most of his school years. I’d chosen the one person who made him feel small and miserable.”

Nick pushed out a wry laugh. “This Nick guy sounds like a loser.”

My gut twisted again. “No. He was incredible. Beautiful. And I humiliated him.”

On autopilot, I lifted my empty glass to my lips. Nick took it from me, our fingers touching for a tingling second. He put the glass down on the side. “Tell me, what did Nicholas do?”

I pulled my lips into a grimace. “He took off. Everyone was laughing at him. It was horrible.” I turned to Nick, searching his face for some kind of reaction, but he just stared straight ahead, a vein pulsing in his temple.

“Next morning I tried to find him. His folks said he’d gone to stay with family in the mountains.” I shook my head, trying to loosen the ropes of guilt that bound me all these years. “I never saw him in person again. I wish I could see him now.”

Nick brought his thumb to a stop. “What would you say? If you saw him, I mean?”

I drew in a shaky breath, my chest tightening as the words hovered on the tip of my tongue. My pulse quickened and all the moisture left my mouth. “I’d tell him I’m sorry. That I should never have treated him so badly and,” I paused, “I’d tell him I felt the same way. I’ve never loved anyone like I loved Nick.”

He let out a gentle sigh next to me, and the brandy that lingered on his breath mingled in the air.

A tug of something inside drew me closer toward him. “I’ve left it too long. He probably hates me.”

Nick gently picked up my hand, enveloping it with his own. His fingers curled around mine like bindweed—rough, powerful fingers—and my heart raced again. I ran my tongue over my lips. Every inch of his skin was a temptation, and my throat tightened at the thought of his hands touching my body, stroking the loneliness and tension away.

Nick spoke, breaking into my thoughts. His voice sounded lower, thicker than I remembered. “He could never hate you. You’re too beautiful, inside and out. I think he’d remember all the good things. The special times you had together.”

I rested my forehead on my palm. “Before I messed everything up, you mean?”

Nick shifted beside me, gently taking my wrist and placing my hand on the other one he already held.

“No. But I’m going to give you some advice from St. Nick. It’s Christmas. You need to look forward, into the future, not backward to the past. The true spirit of the season is one of loving, sharing, and forgiving. You’ve shared your story with me tonight and I’m sure Nicholas would try to forgive you if he knew how you felt.”

Nick paused, then turned to look into my eyes. He brought my knuckles to his lips.

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