After crossing another small bridge, I help him with door and he elbows a light switch on one of the nearby beams. Fairy lights draped over muslin cloth light up in hanging sweeps along the ceiling, offering just enough light to see by. He crosses the room, his shoes squeaking against the lacquered wood floor, steps down into the couch area, and carefully deposits me on one of inviting cushions. While I’m still getting my bearings, he pushes open two of the glass doors near the couch, allowing cool air in and an unobstructed view.
“Thought you might still want the fresh air,” he explains, sitting back down beside me.
“Thank you,” I murmur, doing my best not to acknowledge that this room looks like it’s right out of a romantic movie, and with our clothes soaked there isn’t a whole lot left to the imagination.
I, at least, still have his rain jacket, but Nolan is dressed in regular clothes. His t-shirt sticks to his skin like paint, and his jeans hang low on his hips, his belt unable to compete with wet denim.
Among the few throw pillows, there are blankets rolled to look decorative. Nolan retrieves two of them, wrapping one around my shoulders and then one around his, before setting to work on lighting the firepit. It’s not too difficult, just starting the gas then clicking the starter. Remembering my aversion to fire, he makes sure to keep the flame low, barely flickering between the smooth river stones. The heat is welcome against my chilled skin, and the gas means no smell of smoke to trigger any memories.
Nolan huddles close to me, a harsh shiver running through his body, and he leans down to take off his shoes and socks. Silently, he offers to do the same for me, and I nod my permission. I could do it, but I like the feeling of being taken care of. Just for a little while.
We settle our bare feet close to the heated stones. He has decently large feet, slender with long toes, and positioned next to his, mine look particularly small and dainty. Despite the firepit and blanket, I still shiver from the cold rainwater trapped against my skin. Nolan wraps his blanket draped arm around me, pulling me in close to share warmth.
We sit for a while, looking out at the mist coated plants, the only sounds being the thumping plunks of dripping rainwater into the surrounding pool. Eventually, I curl further into him, moving my legs over his lap and resting my head against his shoulder.
“Thank you for letting me stay,” I whisper, full volume seeming too loud for this hidden space. “Your place has started to feel like a second home.”
“I’m glad,” he murmurs, his hand running along my bare foot to rest on my ankle, and then he seems to remember himself and adds with a laugh, “My parents will be thrilled to hear it. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Trust me, they won’t mind. Hell, they may have you pick out a room and redecorate it to suit you.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll just stay for the night,” I reply, my voice unhelpfully breathless. “Just needed a night away. Too much happening all at the same time.”
“I get that. Life has certainly gotten a lot more interesting,” he jokes, giving me a tight squeeze.
“Sorry, ‘bout th-that,” I stammer, realizing too late that I did it again. I apologized for something that isn’t my fault.
Awareness tingles along my skin as his smooth voice drops to a low purr in my ear. “Love, what am I going to do with you? You’re turning me into a liar if I don’t follow through.”
“Sor—” I stop mid-word, catching myself before doing it again.
Nolan’s hand reaches up, his long fingers cradling my jaw, and gently leads my face to look up at him. His gaze slowly moves along my features with an intensity that feels like a gentle caress. My falling world suspends for a moment, weightless with anticipation. Even as I’m able to conjure memories of each of the guys—the feel of their lips against mine and the taste of their mouths—I still want more. I still want Nolan to kiss me.
His arctic blue eyes follow my tongue as I wet my lips. It feels like we’re standing on a tightrope and finally acknowledging that we’re dangerously close to falling off. If he kisses me now, it wouldn’t be an accident. There would be no bite to act as a scapegoat for our actions.
However, it would still be a kiss made from a losing battle—one I just promised myself to help him uphold—and it would break me if he regretted it again. Until he’s ready to admit to wanting to be more than friends, then friends is all we’ll be.
Conjuring a playful smirk I don’t quite feel, I offer up my cheek and tease, “Let me off with a warning?”
“Just this once,” he concedes, the words coming out as a suggestive purr, then he drops a soft kiss on my cheek that lasts just long enough to have all my nerve endings firing.
Well, that backfired miserably.
My phone chimes from within one of the jacket’s zippered pockets, and I use it as an excuse to break this moment even as my heart begs for me to stay. Flashing an apologetic smile, I shift further down the couch and reach for my phone. Dozens of message notifications flash across the screen, ranging from missed calls, voicemails, and texts. All from Mildred.
Feeling even more battered, I swipe the notifications away and text back
Me:I’m safe. At Nolan’s. Will be home tomorrow.
The reply is swift.
Aunt Mildred:Okay. I love you.
I don’t respond, because even though I know I love her too, it’s still too wrapped up in hurt feelings and shock. Simply looking at her name in my phone, labeled as my aunt instead of what she really is, hurts.
Pretending that what happened with Nolan didn’t happen—something we’ve all become increasingly good at—I slip my phone back into the jacket pocket. “We should probably head back. I’m sure the others are worried.”
“Right,” Nolan rasps and puts on his pleasant face. The one that says everything is fine, which usually means it isn’t.
Getting to my feet, I put back the blanket and then hold out my hand. He turns the firepit off, stands, and takes it, our fingers intertwining as we continue along our tightrope, ignoring the abyss that awaits below.
