Page 21 of Falling for Nicole
“What?”
“I’ve got you a date.”
“You’ve got me awhat?”
“A date. Ablinddate to be exact.”
“Weird, I don’t remember mentioning I wanted one of those.”
The thought of going out with a man is enough to freak me out. I can’t remember the last time I was touched by a man. That’s not a good thought for a twenty-four-year-old to have. I should be out enjoying myself, sowing my wild oats, as they say, but I’ve spent the best part of my adult life caring for my mum. I wouldn’t change it for the world, but it’s only now I’m really realising what I sacrificed.
When my second thought about me having a date is what Declan will think, I know I need to agree to it. This weird obsession I seem to be developing needs to end. He seems to be filling a hole in my life I didn’t realise was there. I shouldn’t be getting used to it, because it’ll only end in disaster.
“Maybe not, but he’s perfect for you.”
“Who is he?”
“His name’s Chris. He’s one of Lucas’ managers. He’s a surfer, and he’s hot. You’re going out Tuesday night.”
Declan
I watched her arse sway as she walked away. My words pissed her off, just like I’d intended, but just like every other time I’ve snapped at her this week, I feel like a twat. The more time I spend with her, the more I come to realise that whatever it was that made me dislike her for all these years was in my head. I’m becoming achingly aware that I don’t hate her at all. I actually kind of like her. A lot.
I don’t like girls. I find them attractive, I fuck them, and I move on. But suddenly, Nicole is making me think about things I never thought I would, like spending time getting to know her—not just between the sheets, but watching films together, and finding out her favourites. Talking to her about what she’s been through with her mum and what her plans are for the future. I’d be kidding myself if I thought for one second her future was working for me in the shack. She deserves so much more.
“You need to get over yourself and stop giving her a hard time,” BJ says, breaking through my disturbing thoughts. “She did an amazing job tonight. Would it be too much effort to tell her so?”
I shrug my shoulders at him and knock back another shot as a distraction. Tonight was incredible. It was more than I could have imagined for this place when I dreamt up the idea over a year ago. It was filled with my friends, though, so of course it was going to be packed. Tomorrow, when we open to the public, it could be a very different story.
“What exactly is your issue with her? She seems lovely. The way you’ve always talked about her I thought we were about to experience the Wicked Witch of the West when she arrived,” Liam asks, chipping in for the first time. It’s unlike him to give me a hard time, even though I know he doesn’t approve of my lifestyle. He’s theniceone out of the three of us. The one who tries to keep us all in check and doesn’t fuck around. While BJ and I want to have as much fun as possible while we’re young, Liam makes no secret of the fact he’d rather be settled down with a woman.
“Oh shit, dude!” Both Liam and I turn to BJ, who seems to have had an epiphany. “You fucking like her, don’t you? All this time you thought you hated her, but you actually want her. You want her ginger little pu—”
“Enough,” I snap, his words hitting too close to the truth. My face is burning red as my fists clench at my sides. I know I’m doing a really shit job of hiding my true feelings. “No, BJ. I fucking hate her.”
“No, Dec, you just hate that you’re not fucking her,” he corrects me patronisingly.
* * *
I have no recollection of getting home or how I managed to successfully get to my own bed, but when I wake up the next morning, that’s exactly where I am. My head pounds as I desperately try to remember the end of our evening but come up blank. A thought suddenly slams into me and I crack one eye open and wince as I look to the other side of the bed. It wouldn’t be unusual to find Georgia next to me after I bootie called her in my drunken state. A huge sigh of relief passes my dry lips when I see the empty space beside me.
The sun’s pouring in through the curtains I obviously wasn’t conscious enough to shut last night, and the brightness reminds me that I need to be up. Something huge is happening today. It’s opening day for the shack, and I need to pull myself together.
My stomach complains the second I sit up, reminding me of the many shots of tequila I consumed last night.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, rubbing my hands across my face in the hope it’ll magically improve my situation.
I feel like a zombie as I shower and dress in a pair of shorts and one of my Dec’s Surf and Shack t-shirts. I run some wax through my messy blonde hair but forgo shaving in fear of slitting my own throat with the amount of alcohol still flowing through my veins.
The house is silent as I make my way down to the kitchen. BJ and Liam are doing exactly what I should be: sleeping off last night. Instead, I stood there bleary-eyed as I wait for the coffee machine to make me the strongest mug of caffeine possible. Once it’s done, I put the lid on the travel mug and head out into the early morning sun.
The short walk to the beach helps to clear my head somewhat. The coffee hits the spot, too. By the time I push the key into the lock at the shack, I feel almost like my usual self. That doesn’t mean the blur of fur that bounds towards me the second I enter doesn’t almost knock me off my feet as his giant paws land on my thighs.
Encouraging him back onto all fours, I drop to my haunches to say hello in the hope it’ll calm him down a little. “What are you doing here so early?” I ask, now sober enough to not expect an answer. “Where’s your owner, hey? Is she causing trouble?”
Music blares out as I follow behind him as he heads towards the office like he understood exactly what I just said. He disappears off into the room and I come to a stop in the doorway. The sight in front of me has me doing a double take. Not only is the place spotless, and the second desk that was covered in stock and crap is now clear and useable, but Nicole is on her hands and knees under the damn thing wearing a short denim skirt. Well, Ithinkthat’s what she’s wearing, because my focus is solely on the tiny bit of black lace that’s doing a very good job of covering the bare minimum. Fuck me, this morning’s starting to look up.
I’ve no idea what she’s doing down there as she sings along to Rihanna’sHate That I Love You. I don’t think she could have chosen a more appropriate song to sing in that moment. Eventually, realising I’ve been standing here way too long staring at her arse and barely there underwear, I clear my throat to announce my presence.
