Page 59 of Naughty-ish

Chapter 14

Nick follows me to my house, and I take his coat, hanging it up in my front closet.

“I’ll just be a minute. It’s upstairs.”

Nick watches me as I turn toward the staircase and race upward, my heart hammers with every step I climb.

Once in my room, I quickly find the notebook and turn, startled by Nick standing on the threshold of my bedroom.

“I . . . um . . . This is what I wanted to show you.”

Holding the notebook between us, Nick’s eyes meet mine, questioning me a second before he takes the bound pages from my hand. He flips the first page and then the second. Glancing back up at me, the sparkle I’ve come to adore in his eyes flares. He crosses the room and sits on the edge of my bed, taking his time, turning each page, examining every sheet.

“Holliday,” he whispers. “Is this what I think it is?”

“It’s just some ideas,” I sheepishly admit, standing before him.

He places his palm reverently over the final page and looks up at me. “This is more than an idea. This is a story. A beautiful story about home and the holidays.”

The story includes a list of things the little boy must do to get home for Christmas.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “If you hadn’t given me the nudge I needed, I might not have given this a second thought.” I nod at the notebook. “Thank you for inspiring me.”

Slowly, Nick’s expression shifts, and he sets the notebook aside. He watches me as he speaks. “You’re the inspiration, honey. You’ve been all the things on that list to me. That’s why the items were checked off on my phone. Not because I’d completed something but because we’d done those things together.”

“Nick,” I whisper, cupping his jaw.

“My feelings for you started when you asked me last summer if I was okay. That day after Monica made a scene in my yard. You asked about me. Not what happened. Not who she was. Me.” Nick points at himself. “You gave me grace.”

He stares at me. “Then I mowed your lawn and you put a flowerpot on my front stoop.”

“It was nothing in comparison,” I softly laugh.

“But you did something for me. You showed me how you were thankful, generous, considerate. It was nice. It made me feel good. Made the outside of my place look like a home, not just a house.”

His hands come to my hips, and he jostles me. “You’re a good person, Holliday. And that’s a gift.”

I timidly chuckle. He’s the good person. “You know I only wanted to be a little bad.”

He chuckles, rich and deep. “Oh, you’ve made that list, too. There’s a sub list to the set list which puts you in the good person, but occasionally naughty, column.”

“Just occasionally,” I tease.

Nick slowly stands and cups my face. “I’d like it to be more often. I’m thinking every night.” He kisses me, soft and sweet, tasting of peppermint and promises.

“What are you suggesting?” Friends with benefits. Naughty next-door neighbors.

“Build a life with me.”

“Nick,” I whisper, my shoulders relaxing. My insides rioting. This is so much more than I expected.

“I bet you wrote another list, and on it you put buy a gift for Nick.”

“How did you know that?” I laugh, envisioning the sticky note I’d written, although I didn’t need the reminder.

“I’d like to amend that list.” Nick leans forward and rubs his nose against mine. “Let’s just have love Nick on the list.”

My head pulls back, and I meet his eyes. “I do. Love you, that is.” I’m shocked while confident in what I’ve said. “I love you.”