She was mad. She was mad at Nick Jacobs for throwing himself in front of her luggage cart and making her question everything she thought she knew. She was mad at him for lying to her. And she was so damn stubborn that she’d just made him leave even though she wanted him to stay. Forever.
“Shit,” she breathed.Shit, shit, shit. She loved Nick Jacobs, and she’d sent him away.Classic fucking Carly.
She dropped the card she was holding and turned, running out of the dressing room and down the corridor as fast as she could. The hallways were almost empty, and as she pelted along the concrete floor, a member of the stage crew flattened herself against the wall in surprise.
“Sorry!” Carly yelled, but the woman was already five feet behind her. She kept going until she reached the stairs to the stage door, and took them two at a time, shoving the door with all her body weight and stumbling out onto the side of Lincoln Center Plaza, her pulse pounding in her ears.
There was no one there. The fans hoping to catch a glimpse of a principal dancer, the little girls clutching programs and waiting for autographs, had all gone home. Carly ran out into the plaza and looked up and down Columbus Avenue, desperate to find him before it was too late.
“Nick!” she yelled at a distant figure. “Nick, wait!”
A second later, the figure slowed, then stopped and turned. Carly ran, faster than she’d ever run toward anything.
She stopped a few feet from him, panting in the middle of the sidewalk. He watched her, a guarded hope on his face and the flowers still in his hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said, when she’d caught her breath. “I’m sorry. I should have heard you out at the wedding. I should have heard you out back there. I have a temper, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.” She paused, chest still heaving, waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t.
“I have a temper, and I’m working on it. I’m working on only getting angry at the people who deserve it. And not getting angry when I’m really just scared. I want to try that again, and hear you out this time.”
Nick stared at her for a long moment, his face unreadable, and as she watched him she felt all the adrenaline of the run drain out of her, leaving her empty. Finally, he spoke.
“You can’t,” he said decisively.
“Can’t what?”
“You can’t hear me out. You once told me that the easiest way to get you to do something was to tell you that someone, somewhere, had made a rule saying you can’t. So, Carly, you can’t.” The side of his mouth lifted in a tiny, cautious smile.
Carly let out half a sob, and she took a step toward him. “Watch me,” she said, with her best attempt at a glower. It was hard to glower when relief and hope were threading through her body, filling her chest like cool water.
Nick stepped closer, and she could smell his cologne, spicy and warm and unmistakably him.
“I’ve taken so many photos in the last few months, and people seem to love them,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “But I can’t stop looking at the photos I took of you. The photos we took together. I have so many photos of you that I’ve memorized your face. Every freckle, every frown. Did you know you have six different kinds of frowns?”
“I do?”
“You do. Six of them.” He held up his hand and started counting on his fingers. “TheI need coffeefrown. TheI don’t understandfrown. TheI understand but I don’t like itfrown. Thethis guy is being a jerkfrown. TheI wish I hadn’t yelled quite so loudly at the jerkfrown.”
Carly smiled. Why did he have to be like this? So perceptive, so intimately acquainted with all of her, even the worst of her? A few months ago, she would have hated it, but now, she didn’t know how she’d ever lived without it.
“That’s only five frowns,” she pointed out. He chuckled, and the sound demolished any remaining anger. She had missed that sound more than her pride had let her admit.
“Well, the sixth is my favorite, so I saved it for last. It’s theI hate Nick Jacobs but I really want to kiss himfrown. I’ve seen that one a lot. You’re wearing it right now,” he said quietly.
She took a step toward him and saw hope flicker across his face as she moved. He had seen the worst of her, and he still wanted more. He still wanted everything. Brow furrowed, she searched his face, drinking in the sharp cheekbones and soft lips and endless blue eyes, and she knew. She wanted everything, too.
“You’re wrong,” she said stubbornly, taking another step and putting a hand on his chest. “You missed a frown. This isn’t theI hate Nick Jacobs but I really want to kiss himfrown. It’s myIlikeNick Jacobs and Idemandto kiss himfrown.”
Nick reached out and put a hand on each side of her waist, pulling her to him. “That’s awfully pedantic of you,” he murmured, looking down into her face with a cautious smile.
“Not pedantic, per se, just precise,” she corrected, and before she could say another word, he kissed her. She smiled against his mouth and opened her lips so her tongue could meet his, and he sighed as her fingers found their way into his hair. His lips were just as soft as she remembered, his mouth greeting hers like the last few months had never happened. But they had happened, and they’d taught her that even though she could fend for herself, she wanted Nick in her life. In her arms, in her bed. By her side.
After a few minutes, or possibly an hour, they broke apart and smiled at each other. Nick twisted one of her curls around his finger and pressed his forehead to hers.
“I want you, Nick Jacobs,” she whispered, and the relief at finally saying the words she’d been fighting for months made her want to dance.
“And I want all of you,” he whispered back. “The insecure parts, the scared parts. The parts you think aren’t good enough yet, I want it all. I want to love it all. I want you, Carly Montgomery. You’re the best kind of challenge. And I love a challenge.”
He ducked down and briefly pressed his mouth to hers again, as though he was afraid she would vanish if he didn’t keep kissing her.
