Page 45 of Falling for Nicole
Chapter Ten
Nicole
Once Dec gets a chance to look at the time, I can see the shock on his face. “I haven’t slept this late for years.”
“The bed is pretty comfortable,” I agree.
“I don’t think it was the bed, Gingernut.” He walks over to where I’m still sitting on the edge, watching him get dressed, and he kisses my temple. The move is so romantic that I’m lost for words as the feeling of his lips makes my skin tingle. What we’ve done so far has been intimate, yes, but that one kiss felt completely different—like it had actual meaning and feelings behind it. I’m pretty sure it should scare me, but all I currently feel is butterflies fluttering around in my belly. “What time are you in later?” Dec asks as if nothing’s just happened, but I swear I felt my world twist.
“I’m working the night shift so I’ll be in sometime after lunch. Dec, I think we should—”
“Keep it professional at work, yeah, I agree,” he says, finishing my sentence for me.
“Okay, good. I’ll see you later then.” I follow him silently down the stairs and to the front door. I expect him to open it and disappear but he surprises me when he spins and pulls my body flush against his. “Don’t be late. I hear your boss is a right wanker.”
“Yep, I hate him,” I mutter against his lips. I feel his twitch up into a smile before they press against mine.
Once Dec’s gone, I wander though my new, empty house. The sun’s shining through the French doors so when I get over, I pull them open and allow the chill of the morning air to engulf me. Movement catches my eye by my feet after Bailey has rushed out, and looking down, I see a single white feather by my foot. Tears instantly sting my eyes. Mum had this fascination with white feathers. She read somewhere that they show your guardian angel is with you, or something along those lines. I never really believed in all that stuff, but when she died and I suddenly kept seeing bloody white feathers everywhere, I couldn’t help but find it reassuring that she could still be there with me. I haven’t seen one for a few weeks, and although I hadn’t really acknowledged it, standing here now staring at one makes me realise how much I’ve missed them.
Sitting down on the bottom step, I pick it up and twirl it around between my thumb and finger. I’m once again filled with such a huge amount of loss that it threatens to break me. The final images of Mum suffering in her hospital bed in our tiny living room are the only thing I can see. I’ve been told that over time those will fade, and when I think of her I will immediately see all the good stuff we shared together. I can’t wait for that time to come, because I’d quite happily never see her in that much pain ever again. My strong, independent mother was utterly broken by that vile disease. We had plans for our future, things we wanted to experience together, and that’s all been ripped away from us.
Bailey must sense my turmoil because he comes over and places his large head in my lap.
“Hey, boy,” I whisper, my voice cracking the second a sound comes out. “She’d have loved it here. Being by the sea was always her favourite place.”
Bailey stands there while I cling to him and cry for everything I’ve lost. After long minutes, that changes, and my emotions are fuelled by my confusion with everything going on with Dec. There are so many questions I need to ask him but I’m too scared to find out the real answers. I try to keep thinking that what’s between us is just a bit of fun, that in a few weeks or months, if I’m lucky, he’ll get bored of me and move on to his next victim. I try to tell myself that I’m just Georgia’s replacement, even if that does leave a bitter taste in my mouth. There’s no way this can be anything more than a physical thing. All the energy we used to put into pissing each other off has morphed into the need to expel it through sex. That would all be fine if I felt like I was just putting my body on the line. The problem is that my heart seems to be following it—and following fast.
* * *
I thought keeping what’s going on between us quiet at work was a good idea. Part of me wanted us to go back to the way we were to give me some kind of sense of normality that I’ve been craving for a long time, but it turns out I don’t like it. Not one bit. I hate the way female customers’ eyes wander over to him, and I hate the flirty look he gives them back, so much so I want to walk over and slap it off his face. I know he’s not doing it on purpose—well, I hope not. I still have this little voice in my head that keeps telling me this is all one big joke. That he’s going to tell me he never liked me and it’s not real. My head is trying to remember this, but my heart seems to keep running away with itself. I really need to rein that bugger right back in. Falling for Dec won’t do me any good because if one thing is guaranteed in life, it’s that he’ll break my heart.
By the time the customers start leaving, I’ve just about had enough. What’s turning out to be quite a bad jealous streak is really starting to piss me off. I hoped he would disappear at some point, seeing as he’s been here all day, but nope. I swear it’s like he’s trying to torture me, like he always has…it’s just different now.
“This isn’t going to work,” I announce, walking into his office when we’re the only ones left.
“What isn’t?” He looks up from his computer with his brows drawn together.
“This. Me and you.”
His mouth drops open in shock. “But—”
“I can’t cope with keeping it a secret,” I say, cutting off whatever his argument was about to be.
“Okay, whatever you want.”
“Really? You’re okay with everyone knowing?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He gets up from his chair and walks over until there are only inches between us.
“Because it’s me,” I whisper, hating how vulnerable I sound.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His hand comes up to push a loose strand of hair from my face. The intensity in his eyes holds mine captive when all I want to do is look away, embarrassed.
“You don’t like me, remember?” Flashbacks play out all the things he’s done to me over the years. They’re mostly from our childhood, but a few are more recent.
“I’ve never not liked you.”
“So what the hell was all that about?”
