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13
Sydney
“What do you mean you don’t know if you can?” Nick stared at me, his eyes full of hurt. “How can you even say that? Everything’s been perfect this week. My family loves you, you clicked with my friends, obviously the sex is amazing—so what if we have the job thing to work out? It’s an obstacle, sure, but I believe in us. We’re strong enough together to get through it.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Nick.” I let out a deep breath, pushing down the exasperation building in my chest. “You’re the one secure in your job. If it gets back to the team that I—the team publicist—am sleeping with you, a PLAYER, I’m sure there will be repercussions and they won’t be on you. So yeah, it feels great being with you right now, I’m not denying that. But when we get back to real life, then what?” I averted my gaze, hot tears pooling in my eyes. “My career is all I have, Nick. I don’t have an awesome family like you do. I have a few friends, sure, but most of them are through work. There’s no team rallying around me. I’m alone. So I put it all into my job and I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to throw that away.”
“Throw it away? That’s what you think of me? Us? Being together means ‘throwing it all away’? Gee, thanks.” Nick sat up, reaching for his boxers.
“No, sorry, that came out wrong. But you know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t, Syd. I really don’t. I just told you I loved you and all you’re worried about is your damn job.” He folded his arms across his chest, his lips a thin, tight line.
“Typical,” I huffed. “It’s all about you. Never mind what I’m feeling, what the consequences will be for me. It’s you, you, you.”
“Yeah, that’s the takeaway here.” He rolled his eyes, then stood up and walked to the bathroom.
“This is exactly why this whole thing,” I motioned to the two of us, waving my hands wildly through the air, “was a bad idea in the first place.” I pulled my pj top over my head. “And why I didn’t want to get involved again.”
“Whatever,” Nick said, closing the bathroom door with more force than necessary.
Shutting me out.
I flopped onto the bed, anger and anxiety swirling in my stomach. This wasn’t how I wanted the night to end, but I didn’t know what to do to make it better. Every single thing I’d said was accurate and I firmly believed we should face the truth sooner rather than later. It’d be less painful that way.
Merry Christmas, I thought, rolling over and clicking off the light. And now I’d have to fake it with Nick for a few more days, until we got back to the city. The last thing I needed was another emotional “break-up,” this time in front of his family.
No, I’d just play it cool for the next few days, fake it through Christmas, and then we’d be done.
Problem solved.
Except the stomach pretzel and the ache in my chest told me the problem most definitely wasn’t solved.
Deep down, I knew I was in love with Nick, too, even if I didn’t have the courage to tell him.
* * *
Not surprisingly, I slept awful, tossing and turning all night long. I had no idea what time Nick came to bed. For all I knew, he spent half the night sleeping in the bathtub.
“Sydney?” Nick’s soft voice, low and deep, vibrated against my neck, sending pulses of excitement through me even though we were fighting.
“Yeah?” My heart rate sped up, wondering what he’d say. I stared at the tiny blue flowers on the wallpaper, not daring to turn and face him.
“I’m sorry about last night.” His fingers stroked my arm, drawing figure eights on my skin. Electric ripples tingled everywhere he touched.
“Me too,” I whispered, finally rolling over towards him.
“I understand your career is important to you. It’s not fair for me to make you choose.” Nick cleared his throat, his eyes wide with sincerity.
“Thanks. I appreciate that. You know you mean a lot to me, right? But I can’t lose my job over this. It’s all I’ve got.”
Nick shook his head, his hair feathering down over his eye. “It’s not all you have; that’s what I’m trying to say. You have me. But I get that I might not be enough for you.”
“What? No, that’s not true. Of course you’re enough,” I said, reaching up and stroking his cheek, his light morning stubble prickly on my skin.
“Well, I’m not a career. And I don’t want to make you pick between me and your job.”
I swallowed hard over the lump in my throat. Why wasn’t this making me feel any better?
