Page 47 of All Wrong
His eyes grew sharper. His expression didn’t change much, but the intensity rolling off him doubled. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“It means, I don’t know,” she shot back sharply. “I think maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. And before you ask,” she said when he opened his mouth, “I don’t know that either. What I do know is, I’m not happy, and I’m thinking maybe I should try to do something about that before it’s too late.”
She set the can of ginger ale aside and reached into a box behind the counter for the bottle of vodka. “I need something stronger than soda. Want some?”
He nodded. She grabbed two of the glasses she hadn’t packed and split the contents of the can ofsoda between them, then topped hers off with vodka before handing it over to him to pour his own. She cleared the counter stools and took a seat at her island bar, motioning for him to do the same.
He did. His eyes remained fixed on hers. “Before it’s too late for what?”
“Too late to have a life,” she said in a moment of quiet, brutal honesty, admitting things to him that she didn’t dare utter to anyone else. “My job at the bank is going nowhere. Not that it was my dream job, but it wassomething. A paycheck and a place to go every day. Now …”
She shook her head. “And I’m losing my apartment, and my only practical option is moving in with my married sister and her kids. How pathetic is that? So, maybe … yeah, maybe this is the kick in the ass I need to stop waiting for things to happen and to go out there andmakethem happen myself.”
“What about your family? Friends?”
She laughed at that, but there was no mirth in the sound. “Not to sound self-deprecating or anything, but I could leave town, live somewhere else, and see them as often as I do now. Holidays, special occasions. And I’ll tell you something else, too, because you might be the only person capable of understanding. When I am included insomething, I think it’s more out of a sense of duty than them actually wanting me around. Same goes for friends. I don’t have many. Everyone I used to be close with is busy with spouses and families of their own. I’m that awkward single guest who makes everyone uncomfortable. Trust me, Nick, I could leave tomorrow, and no one would notice.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NICK
Nick reached into his pocket and silenced his phone. Whoever was calling could wait. The damn thing had been vibrating off and on since he’d left Schmidt’s, and none of it was more important than hearing what Corinne had to say.
Listening to Corinne was like hearing his own thoughts put into words. They hit solidly in the center of his chest, expanding outward, filling the space behind his ribs. He felt them in the depths of his soul because he’d once felt the same way.
When Sean had taken a chance on him all those years ago, it had saved his life. Having a job andhaving people who counted on him had given him a reason to keep moving forward when it would have been so much easier to slide back into the dark world he’d come from. Being close to his sister and his nieces and nephews was great too. They provided a semblance of normalcy in a life that, before Nicki’s sudden reappearance in Pine Ridge, had been anything but.
A side effect of that was being sucked into a much larger family of people who looked out for each other. The Callaghans. The Connellys. Those they had drawn into their orbit over the years. Some were closer to the center, like spouses and kids, while others, like him and Corinne, hovered around the outer edges, held there by the pull of duty and loyalty and blood, but far enough away to make breaking free a real possibility.
He’d certainly thought about leaving enough times over the years, but he had the kids to think of. And Corinne, if he was honest. He liked knowing she was around even if there could never be anything between them. He looked forward to seeing her even if it was only on occasion, and only in passing. The thought of not being able to do that anymore didn’t sit well.
“If you left Pine Ridge, where would you go? What would you do?” he asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I just know I want more than this.” She lifted her hands and gestured, encompassing not just the apartment, but other aspects of her life as well.
That, too, he could relate to, although he was fortunate. He liked his job. Couldn’t imagine doing anything else. So what if he didn’t have much of a personal life? Relationships weren’t his thing. Never had been. He was far too toxic for that. Working with the kids at The Zone was the closest he would ever come to having a family of his own.
So, yeah, he knew what it was to want more.
He moved closer without conscious effort. Close enough that she had to tilt her head to look into his face. Her eyes were so blue, softened by a sadness she didn’t allow anyone else to see. But here, in this moment, she’d dropped her shields, and gifted him with a rare glimpse into her soul.
His chest constricted, empathy and understanding tugging at him in ways that were as uncomfortable as they were familiar. He wanted to ease that persistent ache. Wanted to give her themoreshe craved.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and for those moments, longing overshadowed the sadness.
He wanted to tell her to stop, while every cell in his body demanded she didn’t.
“What about Buckman?” he asked roughly.
She blinked rapidly, her slightly parted lips forming a moue, as if his question confused her. Her reaction to hearing the other man’s name skittered happily through his chest.
He moved closer. “Well?”
“What about him?” she asked.
“Could you leave him behind so easily?”
She sighed. “It’s not like that.”
