Chapter 20
Nadya
IWOKE TO THE SOUNDof someone breathing deep, steady, and right up against my ear.My brain, still thick with sleep, tried to guess if this was a hangover dream, or was I being smothered by a ninja with sleep apnea?The delicious-smelling chest was everywhere.I mean, how big could chests even get?And weren’t ninjas supposed to be smaller so they could climb into windows and whatnot?And there was an arm under my neck like the world’s warmest python.
It took a second before reality filtered in.I had met Melissa, which brought all those memories right back.Painting and drinking could only go so far in silencing the ghosts, so it looked like I had found a new coping mechanism.Apparently, I’d spent the night using Nick as a security blanket.
My first instinct was to wriggle away and never speak of this again, but my head was tucked perfectly under his chin and the arm around me anchored me in place.And there was that whole thing where I didn’t want to move away.
I waited to panic, for the hot prickle of memory or the sense of being trapped, but it didn’t come.Just the weird, animal comfort of being held.
I almost let myself sink back under.Almost.But then Nick’s body got tense as he registered my presence.
“Sorry,” he said instantly, voice gravelly.He tried to roll away, and by roll away, I mean he jerked back, lost his balance, and flopped off the side in a tangle of sheets, thudding hard on the carpet.
I couldn’t help it— I started laughing.Not a polite giggle but a full-bodied snort that hurt my stomach.
Nick’s head reemerged at the mattress edge, eyes narrowed.“Glad you find my suffering entertaining.”
“I’m—” I choked down another laugh, “—so sorry.Are you okay?”
He propped himself up, rubbing his hip.“No serious injuries.My dignity’s dead, though.”His face was half-shadowed, but I could see the bloom of color on his cheek.
I scrambled up to sit, the sheet around my waist, and tried to look apologetic.“I didn’t mean to— um, snuggle you to the floor.”
He gave me a look that made it clear he didn’t buy a word of it.“You’re a regular menace in your sleep.First the black eye, now attempted manslaughter.”
“Manslaughter?You’re the one who tried to suffocate me with your chest.”
“Excuse me, but I believe this time you tried to suffocate yourself on my chest,” he pointed out.
“If you want to file a restraining order, now’s your chance,” I joked.Well, kinda joked because someone needed to do something so I wouldn’t do the one thing I knew I shouldn’t, like climb into his lap and kiss all his boo-boos better.
He shook his head, the laughter leaking away into something heavier.“I think I’d rather just sleep in a helmet.”
For a minute, we just sat there, the silence comfortable.I didn’t want to move.Or talk.Or ruin what was probably the least traumatic morning-after in my life.
Nick, apparently immune to awkwardness, checked his phone.“We should probably get train tickets before the whole town beats us to it.”He glanced over.“You want to go straight back to New York, or take a detour?”
“Straight back, please.The less time I spend here, the better.”I clutched the sheet tighter at the memory of how close we were to that house.
Nick pulled up the Amtrak app, scrolling one-handed.I scooted closer to see until my knee pressed against his thigh through the sheet.He didn’t move away.
