Page 48 of Love Around the Corner
He shrugged, and it pulled her in tighter against his side. “I have a pretty shitty track record of hurting people, whether I mean to or not.”
“But I’ve seen you help people, too.” He liked to deny that altruistic streak of his, but it was in there.
“Leave it to you to point out all my positives.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m too nice.”
“Never stop being nice, Liv. It’s the best thing about you.”
She kept her eyes on her feet and her warm face hidden behind her hair. If she tried to talk right now, she wasn’t sure what would come out.
They reached the house and Livie gratefully slipped out from under his arm, needing to put a little space between herself and Nick, who found herattractive. She jogged up the front stoop, but when she paused to unlock the front door, Nick was right behind her, closer than she’d expected. So close she could feel the heat of his body on her back. His breath ruffled the tendrils of hair in front of her ear. Fumbling, she turned the key in the lock and let them both in.
Spudge was right inside the door, his tail thumping loudly on the wood floor, his droopy doggy face lit up with happiness at the sight of them.
“Hey, my man.” Nick crouched to rub Spudge’s ears affectionately. Every time she wanted to strangle him for being late or waking her up at three a.m. to talk coding, he’d turn around and do something great, like making friends with Frank or cuddling Spudge, and her resolve crumbled to dust. Forget what she told Gem earlier tonight. She was a total idiot where Nick was concerned.
“I’m going up to bed,” she said. Sometimes she sat up with Nick watching TV until he felt tired enough to sleep, but not tonight. Her emotions were all over the place, and spending hours sitting inches away from him on the couch wasn’t going to make it any better.
“Yeah, sleep would be good, I guess,” he muttered, straightening up. “What a fucking day.”
“Well...okay.” She turned and started up the stairs.
Nick started up them, too, one step behind her. Her heart began to pound, which was absolutely ridiculous. He was climbing the stairs behind her because his bedroom was across the hall from hers. He had to climb the same stairs to get there.
It was dark in the upstairs hall. The lightbulb in the wall sconce had burned out ages ago and it was that specialty kind, shaped like a little candle flame, which they never seemed to have on hand, and nobody ever remembered to get them at the drugstore. None of the Romanos had much minded, as they could navigate this hallway in a blindfold. But suddenly, the darkness seemed to press in on her, like walls closing her in.
She reached her bedroom door and turned back to say good-night. There was only a weak, gold glow from the light at the bottom of the stairs, enough to pick out the side of Nick’s face, his jawline, the slope of his cheekbone, the sweep of his hair across his forehead, inky in this light.
He was close. A bit too close for ordinary conversation. Of course, the door to his room was right there, a foot behind him. Maybe it was this pressing darkness that made it feel as if he was close enough to reach out and touch her. He made no move to back up and give her more space. Maybe he was going to hug her, or squeeze her shoulders in that friendly way again. But he didn’t touch her. He stood still, watching her, the air between them vibrating, like the space between two magnets.
“Thank you for today, Livie,” he said. Oh, that low rumble of his voice did terrible things to her, making her heart pound, and her thighs clench, and—most embarrassingly—her nipples tighten.
“Anytime,” she whispered, because her throat wouldn’t allow her to speak at a normal volume. Her arm was folded behind her, her hand clutching her doorknob, the wood of the door at her back. All she had to do was turn the knob and she could escape to the solitude on the other side, and put an end to this awful, vibrating tension.
But Nick could have easily stepped back and disappeared into his room, and he hadn’t yet. Why was he standing so close to her in the dark? Why was he watching her like that, like she was some puzzle he couldn’t figure out? Why—?
Every other question in her mind was abruptly silenced when he took a step forward, lowered his head, and kissed her. She froze, completely unprepared for this turn of events.Nick was kissing her.Her hand curled around the carved brass doorknob behind her until the curlicues were surely impressed on her palm.
For an endless moment—at least it felt endless—his lips pressed against hers, smooth, dry, and firm. Then his mouth moved against hers and Livie’s thoughts scattered like marbles on a polished floor. Any chance there had been of her doing the smart thing, stepping back, putting a stop to this, scattered with them.
His lips parted slightly. A spear of panic lanced through her. She’d never been kissed before. She didn’t know how to do it.
But then his lips gently teased hers apart, and her panic ebbed. It was easy then, to relax and let him show her. Then there was warmth, and wetness, and suddenly she justknew. No, that wasn’t true. She didn’t need to know, because her body had already somehow figured it out. She let him urge her mouth open further, feeling herself dissolve into the luxurious, intimate heat of the moment. Then his tongue touched hers.
Theoretically, she knew how it all worked. But nothing she knew, nothing she’d seen in movies, had prepared her for what it would feel like to have another person’s tongue invade her mouth this way. To haveNickinvade her this way. She melted back against the door, distantly aware of his hands on her hips, his body moving in closer. She finally relinquished her hold on the doorknob, and despite her complete inexperience, her hands knew to reach for him. They knew how to grip his shoulders, how to hang on as he slowly, thoroughly, explored her mouth with his.
Everything tingled, everything ached. His knee slid between hers and suddenly his thigh was between her legs. God, it was embarrassing, how much she wanted him to touch her there, how badly she wanted to grind herself against the long, hard length of his leg.
His fingers curled into her hips, dragging them closer to his own. His teeth scraped across her lower lip, and somewhere low in her throat, she let out a sound, a needy little moan that would have made her blush in daylight.
It was becoming hard to draw a full breath, and then Nick paused. He drew back. In the darkness, she could feel his eyes on her face. She waited for the rest, for him to kiss her again, for him to take her by the hand and lead her to his bed. She’d go, without hesitation. She wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
Instead, she watched as his eyebrows furrowed. He shifted his weight—not much, but enough to put some space between them. Enough space. Somehow his leg was no longer between her thighs. His hands were no longer gripping her hips quite as desperately.
“Ah, fuck,” he whispered.
Then his hands slid away entirely, and he took a full step back. She went cold all over. Her nipples still ached, her thighs still tingled, even as the rest of her body slowly began to flood with mortification.
