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Maybe that's my problem. Instead of accepting who I am now, and starting from here, I keep trying to go backward. I know as well as anyone that going back is impossible. I spent a lot of nights wishing Mom and Dad hadn't died, making bargains with God to bring them back. In the end, I had to accept my new reality. Cara helped me accept it. We were together in our grief, and in our healing.
This time, Cara got out of the hole and keeps trying to drag me out after her. I don't need that. I need someone to come down into the hole with me and help me climb out myself.
Maybe Nick can be that person. I pray he is, because I don't want to give him up. I don't want to lose him, and maybe, just maybe, when I finally make it out of that hole, he'll be waiting for me with open arms.
Hopefully, with no pants on.
27
NICK
The grunts and thumps hit me as soon as I open the door, carried on a wave of heat. I toe off my boots and shove them into one of the cubbies right by the front door, then hang up my jacket. Not the leather one this time. The weather turned even colder, and I finally gave up and dug out my winter jacket.
I wave at a few guys I know on the way to the locker room. I beat everyone here. Not surprising really. They're all at the office today and don't usually leave until 5:00 PM. I've been around the city, checking on garages, solving problems, and mediating squabbles. Nothing difficult to handle, just annoying as fuck. But that's my job. Handle the shit with a level head. So I did it, only needing a small amount of brain power to accomplish it. The rest of it stayed focused on a few nights ago. On Bree.
On everything that changed, yet didn't.
Knowing she wants me, has feelings for me, is such a high.
Realizing she's not ready to act on any of it threw me into the depths of disappointment. I get it. I do. But it fucking sucks. What doesn't suck? Having her in my bed every night. That is its own special kind of high.
I turn the corner to the lockers and stop dead, shocked to find Micah sitting on the bench, looking like a thundercloud. "Holy shit. What's wrong? Where's Holly?" If he's here, she has to be close by. Or she lost her shit with him again and kicked him out of the house.
Nah, if she kicked him out, he'd be sitting in the hallway outside his apartment, waiting for her to calm down. She's got to be here.
"Holly," he says with a massive scowl. "Self Defense."
I lean back on the lockers, facing him. "Shit, man. She's still going? She's nearly nine months pregnant." Thirty-seven weeks to be specific, but who's counting? "Is that even safe?"
Micah groans and raises his hands to sign. "I don't fucking think so, but her doctor seems to think it's fine as long as she doesn't exert herself. She says any activity that Holly's used to is fine. I'm losing my mind. What if she falls, what if she overexerts herself and passes out? There's so much that can go wrong. I can't bring myself to go out there and watch her. I can't fucking breathe." He drops his hands and rests his elbows on his knees, head hanging.
"I'll go check on her," I say, dropping my hand onto his shoulder. "Be right back."
Holly's abusive ex beat her down for a long time, so I get wanting to learn how to protect herself. And learning from Becca, a slightly unhinged but incredibly badass Ninja is good for her. But this far along? It seems like a really bad idea. I'm usually on the women's side, but in this, I can't be. She's putting Micah through hell, and it's not okay.
I'm building up a bit of a mad as I get to the classroom. The windows are frosted, but there are several areas that I can peek through. I spot Becca right away, at the head of a class full of women. Most of them are in that very attractive, stretchy athletic wear, but I don't let that distract me for long. I scan the space, sure I can't miss a five-foot woman with a belly so big she looks like she'll tip over.
Becca moves, and a chuckle rolls through me. There, near the front of the room, propped up on a large stack of athletic mats, is Holly. She's wearing her workout gear, but she's lounging back, a metal bowl on the mound of her stomach. As I watch, she smiles, chatting with Becca, and reaches into the bowl, happily tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth. Becca attempts to steal some and gets her hand slapped, which sends her into peals of laughter.
I step back quickly, grinning. No way do I want Becca seeing me. Last time I was in that room with her, I got my ass kicked...actually had my crotch kneed, too. Becca seemed to think it was perfectly okay for us to be used as punching dummies for her class. Yeah, we had suits, but those damned things didn't do much to protect us.
I return to Micah in the change room, crouching down in front of him, and slap him on the shoulder. "You don't have to worry. She's lounging on a big stack of mats, eating popcorn. She's not doing a bit of the workout. I don't think she tried to. Looks like she just needed a break."
Micah's sigh is long, and weary, and relieved all at once. "Thank God." He scrubs his hands over his face, then signs. "She needed a break from me." I don't answer, because he's probably right. He's an overbearing bastard when it comes to Holly.
"She's dealing with a lot. So are you. It's okay for you guys to frustrate each other. It's not permanent. Once this baby comes, you can relax a bit." He shoots me a look that makes me realize the stupidity of my words. "Right. Yeah. Then you'll have a baby to worry about. That's not going to be easier."
"No, it's not. Right now I'm just worrying about her. If she's safe, so is the baby. But when they're here, I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do. My entire heart is in their hands, and it's terrifying. I worry all the time, about everything."
I drop onto my ass in front of him so I can peer up at him. "I think that's normal man. I'm not an expert, but love comes with worry. I worry about all of you."
"Different," he mutters. I hear the tightness of his throat, the emotion in the one word, so I'm not surprised he keeps signing. Speaking takes effort and focus, and for a conversation like this, one with heightened emotions, signing gives him the flow he needs. "We can take care of ourselves. I worry about the family, but it's a vague kind of 'hope he's all right' kind of worry. With Holly? I wake up in the middle of the night just to hold her belly. I can't stop until I feel the baby move. I watch her all the damned time. If she winces, I lose my damned mind."
"You have to ease up. This level of worry can't be good for either one of you. But I have no idea how to help you do that." Sometimes I wish I were smarter, like Jonas level smart but with better people skills. I would be unstoppable. I would go around fixing everyone's problems, giving great advice and everyone would love me. Or they'd punch me in the face. Could go either way. "What do you need? Want me to spend more time at your place? I could bring Bree, and we could chill. Give you a chance to go do something for you. Even just workout. Something man. Anything."
"Bree?" Micah asks with a raised brow. Well that distracted him from his worry. And it's Micah, so I don't brush off the question. If one of my other brothers were asking, I'd hesitate, but Micah knows some shit. The man's turned his living room into a library, and it's not just decoration. He's read every single book.
"Yeah. We've been hanging out. We get each other."
