Page 90 of Something Like That

She relaxed against him and lowered herself back to the floor. Ran her fingers across his chest, up and down his sides. He wished they weren’t still wearing most of their clothes, so he could feel her skin against his.

His muscles unclenched, bringing him back to reality. He shifted so he could look at her, but made no move to pull out of her. She trembled and gasped, her lips parting, her tongue peeking out to wet them again. He leaned down and kissed her, intending for it to be soft and light.

She slipped her arms around his neck, sliding her hands into his hair, running her nails along his scalp. Goosebumps snaked down his spine, making him shiver. He gasped. She used the moment to slide her tongue into his mouth. He groaned, sliding his tongue against hers and flexing his hips. An aftershock of sensation skated through him, making his toes curl. He trembled and felt her tremble in return.

The moment was perfect. She was perfect.

He pulled away from her lips and balance his forehead against hers. The breath dragged in and out of his lungs. “Jesus,” he said. “That was—”

“Incredible.” Her voice was breathy and raspy. The sound of someone well loved. His heart swelled, so big and so fast, it crowded the breath right out of his lungs. He should say something. Tell her how special she was, how much she’d come to mean to him.

But, he didn’t. Couldn’t. The words refused to form. His emotions were already balanced on a knife’s edge. He wasn’t sure he could handle anything more right now.

Besides, this had more than likely been a pity fuck.

Okay, maybe not. She wasn’t that type of person. She was good and kind. But that didn’t mean this meant more to her. It’d been an emotional situation, and she’d done what she could to offer comfort. The same thing he would’ve done if the situation was reversed.

He pulled out of her, and wanted to weep with the loss. She moaned and shivered. He had to close his eyes to stop from gathering her up in his arms and never letting her go.

She ran her fingers along his jaw and cupped his cheek. He opened his eyes, leaning into the touch. She stared up at him, her gaze skating over his face. Once again, he felt like she was dissecting him, peeling back the layers, searching for something.

His chest, his throat, his soul ached, fear and shame making him want to hide. He didn’t want her to see how broken and bruised he was. How, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop the bleeding.

He pushed to his knees, pulling up his underwear and tucking himself back inside. Anything to keep him busy. To stop from doing or saying something stupid. He yanked up his pants, zipping them up and refastening the button.

She sat up, spreading her dress over her thighs. “Nick?”

He looked up at her, trying to keep his features neutral. Her eyebrows were scrunched together, her head cocked to the side just a touch. She was chewing on the corner of her lower lip. Uncertainty swam in her gaze. He wanted to reassure her, tell her not to worry, that everything would be alright. Except, he didn’t know how.

“Stay here.” His voice came out too low, too rough. He stood, reaching for the doorknob.

Panic flashed in her eyes and she planted her hands on the floor, like she was going to get up.

He held his hand up, palm out. “It’s okay. I’ll be back in a minute. I promise.”

She relaxed slightly, although the wariness remaining in her gaze gutted him.

It’s just for a minute, until you can get your emotions under control.

Right. Until he wasn’t afraid he was going to do or say something stupid.

He opened the bedroom door and slipped out into the hallway. Even though it was still stifling, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

Alex lay curled against Nick’s side, her head on his chest. His arm was wrapped around her, his hand resting on her hip. It was a tight squeeze in his childhood single bed, but she wasn’t complaining.

Although maybe she should be.

He was acting strange. Not that she could blame him. He’d buried his father today. Even though they’d had a strained relationship, she, more than anyone, understood how that could make everything infinitely harder.

She just hadn’t expected him to be so weird with her.

One minute, it felt like he was happy she was here, like he wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. The next, he was pulling away, slamming up walls between them, trying to keep her out. It was enough to give her whiplash, especially when he’d disappeared so quickly after the mind-blowing sex.

As promised, he’d returned a few minutes later with a warm, wet cloth and had taken painstaking care of her, wiping between her legs and then sliding her panties back on.

When she’d made to leave, he’d grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the bed, pressing her onto the mattress. Cracking open the window—it was a thousand degrees in the house—he’d snapped off the light and then stretched out beside her. He hadn’t said anything and neither had she. She’d just snuggled up against him, because no matter how foolish, she couldn’t resist.

She should thank him. Thank him for the gift and then tell him how she felt about him. Tell him she loved him. Even though she didn’t know how he’d react, he deserved to know the truth.