Page 25 of Win Some Love Some
As early as it was, the coast was clear. I brushed my teeth and scrubbed my face. Pulled my hair into a bun. When I left the bathroom, I heard Dad downstairs puttering with the coffee pot.
Perfect. Quickly running back to my room, I changed into jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. The weather gear I needed would be stored on the boat. Some dry toast and a bunch of ginger sodas, I should be able to make this work.
Except when I made my way downstairs, I heard two voices. Two male voices.
Fucking Nick.
“What did she do?” Dad asked.
“What everyone does when they see them,” Nick said. “Acted like they’d fallen to Earth from heaven.”
Dad grunted.
“It’s fucking Liam. He’s too charming.”
Dad grunted again.
“What the hell does she have to get mad about?” Wow. Nick had gotten pretty good at speaking Dad’s language.
Another grunt.
“I tried,” Nick quietly insisted. “You forget, I’m the victim...”
“Victim my ass,” my dad said. “After what she’s been through?”
Thank you, Dad!I waited for Nick to answer that question. Craning myself forward on the stairs, hands on the railing.
“Nor, I know you’re on the stairs eavesdropping,” Nick said instead.
Caught, I skipped down the steps and turned into the kitchen. I gave Nick a look that I hoped said I had no regrets and he gave me a look that said I was trouble.
“You’re up early,” Dad said to me and handed me a traveler’s mug filled with coffee. He was real chatty this morning.
I searched for the sugar and started dropping multiple spoons in, my dad wincing after each one, only to pretend to have a heart attack when I pulled out the Vanilla Almond Cream from the fridge. Filling the mug to the tippy top, I slurped until I had sugar and cream ratio perfection.
“Nora,” Dad said. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I don’t like coffee unless it tastes like ice cream.”
“No. I meant go on the boat,” Dad said.
“You hate it,” Nick pointed out.
“I do not,” I lied. “I love it. The salt water, the ocean smell, the…lobsters. All the lobsters. Dad, I need to work.”
Dad looked like he wanted to fight about it, but he gave me his head nod.
“I give her less than an hour before she gets sick,” Nick said, folding his arms over his chest. That chest had really gotten bigger in the last six years. Not that I cared.
“Well, I give me more than an hour, so let’s bet,” I snapped back at him. I was upset and frustrated and there was no better target for all of that than Nick.
“Bet?” he asked, his right eyebrow shooting up.
“Yeah, I need the money. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks I don’t get sick in the first hour.”
“Honey, the water’s a little rough today,” Dad muttered.
Nick pushed off the counter and got in my face. I didn’t like him so close to me. Or maybe I did. Maybe I loved it. The smell of coffee and cold morning air. I wanted to shove him. I wanted to bite him. Fight him.
