Page 106 of Any Port in a Storm

“It’s not my place to do that.”

“You’re her friend. I’m sure she would have appreciated you looking out for her. Actually,” I backpedal, “she didn’t want to hear it from me. But maybe she would have listened to you.”

He considers for a moment. “I suppose she might’ve.”

“If I’m ever dating someone you think is scum, I beg of you to tell me.”

I can feel him tense up beside me.

“Nick?”

“I’ll tell you.”

The room is silent aside from the sounds of our breaths, intermingling in the inches between our lips.

There’s so much going unsaid right now that it’s driving me crazy. And my inhibitions are lower than usual, thanks to all the vodka. I guess that’s probably why the words leave my mouth before I can stop myself.

“You held my hand tonight.”

The humming tension between us intensifies, and it takes at least fifteen seconds before Nick responds. “I did.”

“Are we…friends who hold hands?”

I can see a smile play at the edge of his lips. “I guess that depends.”

“Oh?”

“Well, did you like it?”

Heat violently assaults my cheeks. Thank god for the dim light. “Did you like it?”

“Laurel.”

My voice is barely a whisper. “I liked it.”

His grin spreads wide. “Good. I liked it, too.”

Everything is spinning, a swirling eddy of lust and love and wanting. I’m not sure if I move my hand, or if he moves his, or if they drift together of their own accord under the sheets. One way or another, they hedge forward, tentatively moving to fill the same space. When he weaves his fingers through mine, I almost burst with joy.

This is the best thing I’ve ever felt.

“We can still just sleep,” he says after a minute.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever sleep again.”

His low chuckle is irredeemably sexy. “Come here.”

I have no idea what his “come here” will entail, but I decide I don’t care. I shimmy closer, tucking myself against his chest. He wraps his free hand around my waist and presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

Feeling his warmth all around me, his long lines against my curves, is making it very hard indeed to want to stick to our agreement. I want to do a whole hell of a lot more than sleep.

But this is Nick. And whatever’s happening here is too important to rush. Hell, it’s been seven years in the making. I think we owe it to ourselves to do it right.

“Can we be friends who do this, too?” I whisper.

He chuckles again, sending heat straight to my core. “We can be whatever you want us to be.”

“Oh really?” I purr.