Page 88 of Love and the Laws of Motion
Jesus and God were the last thing on her mind at the moment.She focused all her considerable mental abilities on what she was doing, trying hard to keep her teeth out of it, to use her hands for the significant part of him that wouldn’t fit in her mouth.
She still had no idea what she was doing, but Nick didn’t seem to care.His hand had moved to the back of her head, caressing her, tangling in her hair.The surprising thing about the whole experience was how hot she found it.It was patently all about him, right?He was the only one receiving any stimulation.Then why were her nipples tight?Why was she wet and achy between her legs?She didn’t want to stop.She wanted to keep going until she’d made him fall apart.It was a heady rush, knowing she had this kind of power over his pleasure.
“Oh, shit,” he hissed.His hands closed around her upper arms, and she found herself hauled roughly to her feet.“You are fucking magnificent,” he muttered, right before he took her mouth in a hungry kiss.
Now he was everywhere, his hands on her breasts, skimming down her body, dipping in between her legs to tease her until she was gasping and trembling.Still kissing her, he backed her toward the bed.When her calves hit it, he paused and drew back, taking her face in his hands and looking at her.
“Liv, you are just...”When she looked in his eyes, that hole in him, the one that she thought might have started to heal tonight, seemed more vast than ever.It was a dark emptiness that sent a cold shaft of fear into her heart.
She reached out to touch his face.“Nick, what is it?”
But he didn’t answer.He shook his head and kissed her again.Whatever else she might have said was lost in that kiss, lost in his body coming down over hers.
Chapter Thirty-Five
His parents had moved, which had surprised Nick last night.His family had been in the Carroll Gardens house since his grandparents’ days.But his mother said that after the “incident”—which is how she referred to Chris’s kidnapping and his disappearing act—there were too many bad memories in the house.Plus, with Chris married and moved out, and Nick gone, it was too big for the two of them.They’d sold up and bought a smaller place in Sheepshead Bay.
Their new place was on a quiet block lined with identical brick houses, one pressed up against the other.The tiny landscaped front yard looked tidy and well cared for.Even this late in November, it was the nicest yard on the block.His dad had always had a green thumb.
Neither of the cars parked in the tiny driveway was familiar.Of course, why would his parents have the same car he remembered?That old Honda they’d driven probably met its maker years ago.The other car had a car seat in back.There was also a tricycle parked on the front porch.More signs of all the changes he’d missed.
Taking a deep breath, he forced his feet up the three steps to the porch.From inside, he could hear the faint sounds of a TV.His dad and Chris were probably already watching football.Did they still do that on Thanksgiving?Or would it be all Barney and cartoons now?
He stared at the door, willing himself to lift his hand and knock.While part of him wanted to—wanted to put an end to eight years of bitterness and anger—another part of him wanted to run away.It was safe back there in his isolation.Once he did this, rejoined his family, they’d be back in his life again, and change, even good change, was a little scary.
He wished Livie was with him.She was good at this part.Not change.She was terrible at facing changes.But she was great at needling him to face the thing he didn’t really want to face.This wouldn’t even be happening if not for her.
It surprised him, his need for her in this moment.And made him a little uneasy.Relying on her too much was a mistake, because someday soon she was going to wise up and get the fuck out of here.But for today, she was back in Carroll Gardens with her own family.And he was here with his.If he could make himself knock on the door.
He was still standing there, at war with himself, when he heard a voice from inside, approaching the front door.
“It’s in the car seat, babe.I’ll get it.”
Suddenly the door opened and he was face-to-face with his brother.
It wasn’t quite that eerie looking-in-a-mirror feeling he’d had when they were younger.In eight years, their looks had diverged a bit.Chris’s face was a little leaner, more angular.His hair was shorter than Nick’s, clipped neat and conservative.There were a few fine lines around his eyes.
The eyes were the same, though.Chris had his eyes, and now they widened in surprise.His mouth fell open, and a second later, a wide smile spread across his face.
“Nick.Goddamn, you’re really here.”
“I—” He didn’t get to finish that sentence, as he found himself yanked forward, into a ferocious, crushing hug.Chris drew in a shaky breath that Nick felt against his shoulder.A rush of emotion so powerful it almost hurt welled up in his chest.For all the bullshit rivalries and squabbles over the years, he’d missed this perfect, infuriating jerk.He’d missed his brother.
From inside the house, he heard his mother’s voice, high-pitched and painfully eager.“Is that him?”
Chris leaned back to look at him, still hanging on to his shoulders.“Get your ass in here, man.We have eight years of family bonding to make up for.”
And somehow, after eight years of silence and bitterness and recriminations, it was that easy.He showed up, and they invited him right back in.
As Chris dragged him over the threshold and shut the door behind him, his mother appeared from the back of the house, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“Nicky!”she cried, crossing the tiny living room and throwing her arms around his shoulders.He submitted to another crushing embrace, patting his mother on the back when it seemed she might start crying again.Over her shoulder, he saw his father come in, still straight-backed and broad-shouldered, although with a lot more wrinkles and silver in his hair than had been there last time Nick saw him.
A tremor of nerves, the kind he hadn’t felt since he was a kid, raced through his body.Neither of his parents had ever really understood what made Nick tick, but his father had been particularly flummoxed and frustrated by his younger son.In Dad’s world, sons followed in their father’s footsteps, or they built upon what their old man started.Dad’s dad was an MTA mechanic and Dad was an MTA supervisor.Chris took what they’d built, got himself a degree, and went into banking.Nick had ignored everything that came before him and forged a wholly new path.Dad had accused him more than once of being an ungrateful little shit.But how could he be grateful for something he’d never wanted?
As his mother released him, gazing up at him with glassy eyes and a delighted smile, Nick braced himself for a scene with his father.Surely now was when he’d get called out for his disappearing act.If anyone was going to get mad, it would be Dad.
But Michael DeSantis didn’t do anything Nick expected him to do.He ducked his chin, cleared his throat, and shook his head.If Nick didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was fighting back tears.Then he crossed the living room in a few long strides, reached for him, and hauled him into yet another hug.
