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"I think this is the best thing I've ever eaten in my whole life," I moan. "It's even better than the one I had the last time I was here."
Nick mutters some sort of positive reply, but seems more focused on shoving as much of the sandwich into his mouth as he can. I get it. I'm doing the same with absolutely no shame. Another perk of just being friends. I don't have to pretend to be full after a few bites. Not that I usually played that game. At least until Tyler.
In no time, Nick is staring sadly at the last bite of his sandwich, looking like he wants to cry, then pops it in his mouth. It should be gross, the man wolfed it down, but he did it so neatly. He sighs, and leans back on the bench, then lifts a fry to his mouth.
"When were you here last?" he asks, those perfect white teeth taking a bite of the crispy fry.
"College. Me and a few friends came down for spring break our last year. I almost didn't come, but I'm so glad I did. It was so much fun."
He turns his body toward me, extending one arm along the bench. "You were going to pass up a trip to Miami? Are you nuts? Or a total bookworm?"
I snort. "No. But I was working a lot to pay for college. Cara was helping, but I didn't want all that burden to be on her, you know? So I decided not to spend the money."
He hums low in his throat. "What changed your mind?"
"Cara. She told me there was no way I was going to miss that trip, and she made me go." I rest my sandwich in my lap, and don't miss Nick's longing look at it. "I'm so glad. I crashed in a small motel room with three other friends. We drank, and played a ton of beach volleyball, and flirted with college guys. And we danced. So much."
The memories wash over me. The heat of the sun on my skin, the sand under my feet, and the music blaring from speakers that seemed to make everything else in life disappear. I loved that trip so much. I felt free, like life was out there waiting for me to grab it. We stayed up late talking about our dreams and ambitions, and how we were going to take on the world when we got back home.
We spent four days in Miami, but it felt like an eternity of blissful freedom. In those four days, something shifted inside me. Suddenly, I saw all these possibilities for myself. And I realized that life was more than studying and working. More than trying to make Cara's sacrifice worth it. When we drove back home, taking turns sleeping and driving, I felt different, more confident in myself and what I wanted out of life.
Then I let Tyler destroy all of that. Why did I do that? I still don't understand how I let it happen.
"Bree," Nick says softly, drawing my gaze back to his. "Where did you go?"
I shrug, unwilling to let Tyler ruin tonight. "Just daydreaming. You mentioned you'd been here before?"
He gazes at me for a minute more, but thankfully doesn't push. "Yeah. A few times, some more memorable than others."
"What makes them more memorable? Did you get tired of the beaches, the nightlife, and the beautiful women?" I ask dryly.
He laughs, a low chuckle that fills the air between us with warmth. "Nah. Some of the trips we spent pretty damned drunk. I literally don't remember much about them. We're slowing down now, mellowing out. The last trip I remember, thank fuck."
"Why thank fuck?"
"Because spending the whole night being paraded around South Beach by a seven-foot-tall drag queen was so much fun. Then her friends joined, and it was a hell of a party. I stayed sober for most of it. Things went sideways at the end there, but it was awesome."
"Sideways? I need details Nick."
He grins and wiggles his eyebrows. "Let's just say I look great in pasties."
I sputter out a laugh, chasing after him as he rises and heads down the strip with that loose easy walk of his. "Seriously," I grumble, "you can't just walk away after dropping that bomb. I need details!"
"My lips are sealed," he mimics a zipping motion, and I growl at him in frustration. He just laughs again. "C'mon Bree. Let's go dance."
I can't help it. I freeze in my tracks. "Wait. You dance? Seriously? I've seen you in the club. You just...sit there."
He turns, sliding into my bubble, the warm salty wind ruffling his too long hair. "When you're working, I just sit there little Bee. I've got to keep my eye on you."
"Why?" I ask, letting the wind carry my words to him. It feels like we're in our own little cone of silence, the throngs of people flowing around us easy to ignore.
He frowns, one dark hand coming up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Because you're important to me. I keep an eye on you, and make sure you're safe." He tips his head, and the lightness comes back into his face. "But when you're not there? I shake my ass like it's my job."
I can't help but laugh at the image of Nick shaking his ass on the dance floor. I've seen this man writhing in pain, willing to let his brother pee on him, but somehow, he's still cool. I can't picture Mr. Cool here shaking his ass.
"Alright, fine," I say, giving into temptation. "Let's go dance."
He grins, snatches the last of my sandwich from me and taking a huge bite, grabs my hand and leads me down the strip towards one of the clubs. The music is thumping from inside, and I can feel the energy pulsing through the air. Nick flashes his ID to the bouncer, and we're in.
