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"Nick loves her," Micah says firmly, looking at Cara. "Take care."
"I know he will. I do. I just forgot for a bit."
After goodbyes, Cara and I exit arm in arm, leaning on one another as we slowly make our way back to the waiting room. "What a day," she says on a sigh.
"What a day," I echo. A baby, a secret relationship outed and a cry in my sister's arms. "No wonder I feel like I could sleep for a week."
Cara snorts, "I saw the way Nick looked at you. No way he's going to let you be for that long."
"Cara," I gasp. "Rude. Besides, you and Declan were the ones fucking like bunnies. That Miami trip is when all of this started. So really, it's your fault. If you and Declan hadn't been so wrapped up in each other, Nick and I wouldn't have had to entertain ourselves."
Her brows raise. "Entertain yourselves? And just how did you do that? Did you let Nick put the hot dog in the bun back then? You dirty girl."
This is the Cara I know and love. But, "What the fuck? Hot dog in the bun? Seriously Cara." I shake my head and drop her arm, heading for Nick across the room, but I turn back, a grin playing on my lips. "It's more like the footlong in the bun."
Her laughter bubbles up as I spin and run to Nick, knowing that his arms will open for me. He pulls me close and holds me tight, resting his chin on the top of my head. I sink into him with a sigh, soaking in the love and comfort he offers only to me.
"Cara and I are going to be okay," I whisper into his chest.
He hums in response, a low rumble of contentment coming from deep within him. "Dec and I are all good too." I smile into his shirt and allow myself to relax against him, so relieved. I want everyone in my world to be okay. It helps me feel okay. And yeah, maybe that's a little codependent, but in this group, that's about the norm. We all live in each other's pockets, and I'm looking forward to not having to hide anymore.
Nick is mine. I'm his. And I don't care who knows it anymore. I lift my head, cup his cheeks and pull him down to me. "I love you. Big time."
His fingers spear into my hair, and he tips my chin up. My breath hitches in my chest at the intensity of his eyes. "Big time," he echoes, his voice rough with emotion as he crashes his lips to mine.
The kiss scorches through me, burning away all the worry of the past few weeks. No more hiding, no more worrying about other people's reactions. An eternity later, we pull apart, both panting for air with matching goofy smiles on our faces.
"See, I told you they had sex," Jonas says loudly. Janey grabs his arm and yanks him down into the chair, whispering to him.
I drop my head onto Nick's chest and laugh. Declan and Cara look at us questioningly, and Nick waves his hand dismissively. "It's nothing." Then cutting off what I'm sure would be more questions, he puts his fist out to Declan. "Up for another Miami trip?"
Declan grins and taps his fist against Nicks. " Fuck yeah."
40
NICK
“I missed her,” Bree says, rubbing her cheek against the arm of my leather jacket.
I grin down at her, unable to resist pressing a kiss to the top of her head. I do that a lot now, kiss her in public. Doesn’t matter if we’re around our family, or in a fancy restaurant, or just walking along the waterfront like we are now. “I missed her too. I don’t like leaving her alone at home.”
Janey laughs, shaking her head. “Your relationship with this jacket is weird, you have to admit.”
“Maybe, but i’m okay with it.”
“Why do you love it so much?”
“You mean other than because it makes me look like a badass?”
Bree grins and takes a sip of her Chai. “It does make you look like a badass. That is absolutely true. Where did you get it?”
Her hand tightens on my bicep and she tucks in closer as a group of runners pass us. Fuckers are crazy, out here in those outfits. It’s nice, but not that nice. April in Chicago can be a kitten one day, and a snarling panther the next. Steering Bree onto the sidewalk right in front of our building, I give her a little bit of our history.
“We didn’t grow up with much, you know that. But Ransom always came home with stuff. Sometimes from thrift stores –the man loved his stuff a bag days– but he’d also come home really late a night with other stuff. Weird stuff sometimes, valuable stuff other times. He actually won the first car Micah rebuilt at a poker game.”
“He played a lot?”
“It’s probably more accurate to say he hustled a lot. If he had to play a few hands of poker to get what he wanted, then that’s what he’d do. “
