AllFreeNovel
Share Us
After walking the distance from the front desk to the elevator and down the corn maze of a hallway, dragging my deadweight suitcase behind me, I’m ready for a shower, my comfies, and something funny on TV. Preferably with Nick in my bed.
“Meet me in ten minutes?” Nick asks, holding the key card up to his door across the hall from mine.
“Sure.” If we can’t have a quiet night in, I’ll take a fun night out. Besides, it’s Vegas.
I’m dressed for the evening and swiping my lashes with mascara when there’s a knock at my door. Nick must be itching to go blow some dough.
“Almost ready,” I say, swinging the door open, but he’s not and he doesn’t look so good. “What’s the matter? Did our show get canceled?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
He drops his head, leaning on the doorframe. “I hate to say it but I think I’m getting... old.”
“Yeah, what else is new?” I joke, inviting him in.
“You just wait, Olivia. Your thirties will getcha,” he says, and I pop in a pair of earrings. “Would it be cool if we save the gambling for tomorrow? Maybe order some burgers and watch a comedy instead?”
I narrow my eyes at him, suspicious. “Nick, can you read my mind now? Because absolutely we can do that.” Without wasting time, I kick off my Converse and grab a pair of cotton shorts from my open suitcase (which basically looks like T.J. Maxx threw up in it).
—
Nick and I settle in on my king-sized bed with a couple of burgers from In-N-Out, a top-choice burger place I haven’t frequented since college. I take a huge bite and stuff a couple of fresh-cut fries in my mouth, leaving little room to breathe. Most nights after our shows, Nick and I settle in for a little late-night comedy for ourselves. It’s becoming a highlight of my day. We take turns picking the content—sometimes it’s a few episodes of a sitcom like Seinfeld or The Office and other times it’s a stand-up special like Sarah Silverman’s We Are Miracles or Jo Koy’s Lights Out. Tonight it’s my turn to pick and I found something really special to watch.
“So what’s on tap tonight? Ali Wong? You won’t shut up about her.”
“Nope, check this out.” I aim the remote and pull up Nick’s half-hour stand-up special, Born to Run, from three years ago.
“Are you serious right now?” Nick says.
“Yes, I want to watch it so I can figure out why you titled it after that Springsteen song.”
“How about I tell you and we watch something else.” He grabs the remote, cheeks flushed like he’s got a sunburn from the drive. Unless it really is a sunburn.
“As tempting as that sounds... no.” I steal the remote back again, this time pressing play.
Nick shields his face with his hand. “This is embarrassing.”
“What are you talking about? Do you know how many comedians would give their right ass cheek to have one of these? Myself included. They don’t just give these to anyone.”
“Your right ass cheek, huh?” he asks, and I shoot him a look. “Okay, we’ll watch it once and never again, capeesh?”
“Yeah, yeah, capeesh.”
—
We spend the next thirty minutes snagging fries from each other’s fry baskets while I snort laughter nearly the entire time. He uses very little of the same material I hear every night on tour. And he’s beyond funny. Almost funnier than he is now, but I keep this observation to myself. He ends the special with the same slogan on his shirt—buh-bye. Now I get it. Now I really understand why people love him. Why fans like Jeremiah special-request him. He’s a great stand-up.
“That was so good, Nick!” I say, giving his arm a friendly smack.
“Thank yoooou, thank ya very much.” And now Elvis-Nick is back.
“Don’t laugh at me but it’s been really fun watching comedy with you. It’s nice to share a laugh with someone sometimes, you know?” I say, wanting to meet his gaze but feeling shy.
“Yeah, I do. I was just thinking that the best part of my special was watching it with you. Listening to you laugh.”
I look at him. Even if his words have me trembling inside. Now I see that he has swoony feelings for me too. He leans close, so close I can almost taste him—the smoke-free version of him. And I want to. So bad. And so what if we break the rules again? So what if we’re more than Jerry and Elaine? We’re Nick and Olivia.
