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Nick glares. “Sadie is in the guest bedroom and your ass isn’t sleeping on my couch.”
“We can call a cab.” Trevor shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“I’ll be planting my ass on that couch right there.” Will points, his future for the next twelve hours decided. “Besides,Sadie,”he says my name super pronounced. “Can sleep in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs.”
Nick looks like he’s about to burst a vein, so I step in. “That’s fine by me.”
Nick’s eyes cut from Will to me. “It is?”
I shrug. “Sure. It doesn’t matter to me where I sleep. A bed is a bed.” I flash a smile to Allie and Trevor. “They have no kids—and a night without four kids has got to be made fun—so let’s make it fun.” I reach for one of Allie’s bottles of wine, spin to pull two glasses from the cupboard and then frown at the fact that it’s corked and I’m so not good at freeing the cork without massacring it, little bits of cork wreckage left behind in the wine.
Nick sees and takes note of the frown I give the bottle, because without saying anything at all, he tugs open a drawer, nabs the wine opener, and gets to work opening the bottle. He also says nothing when he pours the wine into two glasses, handing me one as I scoop the other to hand it to Allie, who is watching us with a curious, super-wide, kind of freaky, grin.
She lifts her glass and toasts, “To getting wasted.”
I clink her glass with mine and take a too-big sip that has me struggling to cover a cough. Then I wheeze, “To having fun.”
Allie nudges Trevor with her elbow. “See, I knew packing my overnight bag was a good idea.”
“If you’re sleeping in my bed tonight, I should probably change the sheets.”
“Oh,” Allie bobs her head eagerly. “I’ll help.”
I can see by the sparkle in her eyes that she just wants to get me alone so she can press me for more ‘Nick’ information. Katie would love her. I miss Katie.
ChapterTwenty-One
Nick
Sadie came out of the bedroom giggling with Allie like they were long lost friends finally reunited. Before they left to change the sheets, Allie, crazy as she is, topped both of their glasses to the rim.
So along with giggling, Sadie returned to the kitchen with flushed cheeks and wide, sparkly eyes. Since returning from the bedroom with Allie, we've eaten pizza and moved on to the chips I had stored in my pantry. The chips Mom brought when she brought everything for Sadie’s arrival. The girls and the guys clearly have the munchies, as one gets when they over imbibe.
I've been pacing myself. I know Sadie doesn't drink much, and I also know that she hadn't been confident about giving up her room for the night. She'd done so to stop an argument, which pissed me off. I'd already been pissed off at Will, so knowing that she'd been uncomfortable, and trying to save a situation from going wrong, pissed me off more.
I didn't invite him for a reason. And I hated, as I watch him now, watching her from across the table that that reason is purely founded in my own insecurity.
I want this woman in a way that I've never wanted any woman. If I have to compete with a man like Will, I'll never win. Before, maybe. Before, we'd go head-to-head for women in bars, and clubs, and at events. It had been a game. We'd enjoyed the competition. But now, I can't hold a flame to him. Now that I look like I do, there's no competition.
He would crush me.
If I had to watch her turn her attention to him, that might kill me.
I've never felt this way in my life. This insecurity. This fear that the woman I want isn't going to choose me.
I haven't let myself feel this.I haven't put myself in this situation for three years, because I know it'll crush me. But with Sadie, it'll do a hell of a lot more than crush me. The way I feel for her, I can't even explain it. It's like a burn. A whiskey sting in my chest I can’t shake.
When her eyes fall on me, everything shifts into place. I feel home. It's the best I can describe it.
I knew she'd be dangerous when I opened my door to see her standing on the step. I should have called back my mother's driver that instant and sent her on her way. But now that I've tasted her, now that I’ve touched her, I don't ever want to let her go.
I don't know how this is going to work. She came to Colorado for Christmas—for a holiday—a three-week vacation from her life.
Now, I want to tear her from that life. I want to rip her from everything she knows and force her to accept this—me—as her future. I want to sew the loose stitching of her life into mine, knotting every stitch so that her life and mine are so completely entwined, neither of us can ever walk away.
This possessiveness I feel over her, over the happiness she’s brought me, the light she’s pulled me into from the dark pits of my lonely despair is like an itch I can’t scratch. A wound that won’t heal.
I need to get a grip.
