Maybe this is why Mom kept me busy because I’m always thinking about the future, worrying about not getting it right, and fearing that things won’t go the way I envisioned them. I’ve been driving myself crazy since we boarded the plane, and Nate has been working with Ford. They are working on some secret project.
“What are you worried about?” Nate asks.
I turn around and find him studying me with such interest I feel like a piece of art on exhibition. I’ve noticed that he’s always watching me, observing me, trying to figure out how I work or…I don’t know why it is that he’s so fascinated by me.
“Why do you think I’m concerned?”
He takes a seat next to me and traces a line on my forehead. “That cute frown line deepens when you’re worried about something.”
I pat my forehead wondering what else I do that I never pay attention to and ask, “I do?”
He smiles and presses his lips while nodding. “Yeah, just like the little line that forms between your eyebrows when you’re curious about something. You have a lot of tells. Soon you won’t be able to feed me any bullshit.”
I blush and say, “I’m not sure if you’re ridiculous, cute, or just plain weird.”
He winks, “I’ll keep you guessing too. Now tell me what is worrying you so I can help you solve it.”
“Well, while growing up we were a handful. Mom had Dad to help her with us…or vice versa. I’m not sure if I need to go back to college and get a degree in education or…”
He laughs, and that rich sound makes the apprehension on my belly dissipate, and why do I have that need to get closer to him and kiss his jaw and then his mouth. I have this strange desperation clawing its way to my head and trying to convince me to take what I need. Him. I fight it because I don’t want to ruin my time with him. He’s an amazing friend.
“I’m glad I amuse you, sir,” I growl, faking anger.
“Sorry, but imagine if every parent in the world had to go back and get a degree just to raise their children—no one would have kids,” he concludes. “My guess is that you’re terrified about the future and if you’ll be able to do it well on your own. Now, this is the part where I remind you that you have a great family that is there to support you. You also have me.”
“You,” I repeat wanting to ask more but also afraid about his answers. “Sure, volunteer while there’s no wailing child. I bet by the time this little one is screaming bloody murder you’re going to be thousands of miles away from us, which I understand. I’m not trying to guilt you.”
He laughs and shakes his head when I yawn. “Why don’t you take a nap. We still have three more hours to go.”
I want to say no, but my eyes are closing so I agree to doze off but refuse to go to the bedroom. There’s something about having Nate around that feels just, right.
“So, the narcolepsy is still going on, huh?” Nate wakes me up before we land in New York.
“Umm, you told me to nap and I woke up too early to remember anymore,” I joke and sit upright.
“I forgot to ask, did you sleep last night?”
I shake my head and remind him, “My morning sickness is worse at night.”
“We got you an appointment with the nutritionist for Monday, an OBGYN, and a sonogram since you said the doctor at Baker’s Creek recommended you schedule one just to confirm your due date,” he announces.
I reach out for his hand. “You didn’t have to, but thank you very much for doing that for us. I really don’t know how I’m going to repay you for everything that you’ve done so far.”
He puts a hand on top of mine, holding it tenderly but firmly. “You don’t owe me anything. This is what friends do for each other. I’m sure if I was pregnant, unemployed, and confused, you’d be giving me a hand.”
“No, I’d be selling your story and representing you,” I correct him. “First pregnant man. That’s gold. I’d make a fortune off of you.”
We both laugh.
“I walked myself into that one, didn’t I?”
“Yep,” I answer, my body still shaking. I can’t stop laughing because his laughter is contagious.
“I’m glad I amuse you.”
“I like you, Nathaniel Chadwick,” I confirm.
Above all these crazy things I feel for him, I love his company and cherish his friendship. I genuinely like this guy. This is just the beginning of the storm, but it’s so easy to walk through it because he’s beside me.
“Glad to hear, because I like you too, Nyxie,” he says and then adds with his voice dropping to a whisper. “I like you. A. Lot.”
My eyes stare at his lips that are approaching me. My pulse accelerates and just as I feel his warm breath, the flight attendant’s voice comes from the speaker.
“Please make sure your seats are adjusted, your—” I tune her out and busy myself pretending to get ready for landing and trying to steady my pulse. We shouldn’t engage in more than holding hands or we might ruin what we have.
Twenty-Eight
Nyx
After we disembark the plane, we march to the parking lot. I’m surprised that he drives an Audi A7, nothing too fancy. His brother has a car collection that I envy. Maybe Nate isn’t too much into cars like Ford. What does he collect?
Instead of inquiring about that, I ask, “Did you get any sleep at all?”
“During the flight from New York to Oregon,” he answers.
“I’m thankful that you picked me up, but you could’ve waited at home.”
He opens the door of the car and helps me inside. “Yes, but then I would’ve missed you for six more hours.” He kisses my cheek and closes the door.
I’m not sure if I’m confused or playing dumb. Is he flirting with me or doesn’t he know the boundaries between friends?
I fidget with my phone during the drive to his apartment. He leaves the car in front of the building and tells the doorman to park it in his garage. Nate interlaces our fingers and we head to the penthouse.
The elevator doors open right on his floor and waiting for us is Demetri who bows slightly and gives me an unwelcome glare, “Ms. Nyx.”
“Good afternoon, Demetri,” I greet him and ask, “What did I do?”
“Brock isn’t allowed to be on the furniture,” he says firmly.
I laugh and Nate tsks at me.
“Well, he’s my buddy. We read together and take naps. I can’t just let him do it on the floor, can I?” Then I glance at Nate and narrow my gaze. “You ratted me out.”
His blue eyes look at me mischievously. “Not intentionally. D complained about Brock’s behavior and I said, ‘I have no idea why he’s acting up. Take it up with Nyx. He spent most of his time with her.’”
I sigh and say, “If needed, I’ll take him with me. Now, where is my boy?”
“The terrace,” Demetri answers in such a snippy tone I almost laugh. “He’s on the couch taking a nap.”
I stretch and say, “I should join him.”
“The shopper from Bloomingdales is waiting for you in your room, Ms. Nyx,” he indicates, tilting his head toward the staircase. “You have an hour with her. The shopper from Neiman Marcus should be here at six.”
I look at Nate. “Why?”
“You mentioned you wanted to shop. I simplified things in case you were tired.” He throws one of his simple answers that annoy me because they make sense. There’s not much room to argue, but I can’t just let it go.
“I can go to the store…and I was planning on going somewhere less expensive.”
“She is here. Let’s see what we can get or at least get a few ideas of what you want to buy,” Nate argues, taking me by the hand.
His personal shopper shows me catalogs, guides me through the easy to use system where I can input all my preferences so she can find me the right styles, and she also brought some clothing items along.
Most of the clothing I try on is loose enough that if I gain weight it should still fit me. She makes a list of everything I like
and leaves. The second shopper is not much different. Both leave every item that fits me, and I love them. They order the rest. Everything should be here by mid-week.
“I feel like Cinderella or Julia Roberts. You have to tell me how much you spend, Nathaniel Chadwick,” I chide him because he’s the one who tricked me into telling him if I liked the stuff or not and kept on piling it.
“Sure,” he says dismissively. “I mean, it’s nothing, Nyx.”
“Clearly those stores are nonprofit, and they just gifted me thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes because it’s giveaway day,” I say mockingly.
“Why don’t you let me take care of you?”
“Because I can take care of myself,” I answer.
“Well, too bad. I want to do it and I will do it,” he challenges me.
“You can’t just say, ‘I’m going to be your sugar daddy’ and think I’ll be okay with it,” I protest, and he laughs.
“Well, according to this blog I’ve been reading, I should be able to make my own choices. This is my choice. I am taking charge. Plus, I give zero fucks about being conventional.”
“You’re quoting my sister, aren’t you?” Those are three of her ten life mantras. “Well then, think before you act, mister.”
“Her philosophy is pretty similar to mine. I can get on board with what she says—sometimes,” he argues. “Thinking before acting is overrated.”
Nate’s words make me miss my sister, and instead of fighting about the clothing, I’m afraid that he might bring up number four, always feel. I say, “You just reminded me that I have to call Persy.”
“Do it while I make us some dinner. Soup or sandwich?” he asks.
I glance at my phone and then at him, asking, “You’re not making anything fancy?”
“Nah, I’m trying to see if a light dinner and maybe a late snack will help you,” he replies. “I’ve been reading that the less processed the foods—”
“Wait, you’ve been reading about morning sickness?” I ask, and my heart makes a double flip.
He smiles, kisses the top of my head and leaves. Instead of staying in the room, I head to the terrace. Brock is laying on the couch until I call him. He comes running toward me with a huge grin and fast strides.
“I missed you, boy,” I say, petting him and giving him a hug, and I swear he hugs me back. This dog is so much like Nate. When they are around, they make you feel like the world isn’t a scary place.
“Let’s call Aunt Persy, boy,” I suggest, giving him one last pat before I dial her number.
“Finally,” she answers. “How are you doing?”
“Better,” I reply with a steady voice that doesn’t give away my worries, the fear of the uncertainty, and the doubts that are plaguing my heart.
“Really? You’re going for better. I’ve been worried sick, and Nathaniel isn’t helping,” she says snapping.
I fight the frustration building inside me because I told her to give me space and she was contacting Nate? I breathe and give her a chance to explain herself.
“Why would you need help from Nate?”
“I keep telling Ford to ask him how you’re doing, and Nate doesn’t give him a good answer,” she protests. “It’s not any different from your, better.”
“So much for giving me space,” I remark trying to hide the annoyance.
“I’m trying, but it’s hard not to worry about you,” she explains. “There’re too many things going on with you, and what if tomorrow I find out that you’re working for some Joe Schmo on the other side of the country. You’re pretty independent, but I want to be there for you and the baby. Plus, you’re living with a stranger.”
“Your boyfriend’s brother,” I remind her.
“Still, you don’t know who he really is,” she presses.
“My brother is trustworthy, Persephone,” I hear Ford objecting. “Take your drama down a notch, babe.”
“We spent a week with Nate,” I recall. “Then he came to visit for a weekend—I’m impressed that he didn’t run away after the parents’ incident.”
“That has some merit,” she agrees.
“Listen, Persy, I’m a pretty good judge of character,” I continue. “I wouldn’t just accept an invite from some weird guy while I’m hitchhiking by the highway.”
She huffs and then asks, “When are you coming back?”
I tell her everything that happened with Pierce and what I decided. That I’ll become her official agent but charge her less than what Sheila was making. We settle for fifteen percent of her earnings instead of twenty.
“Hearing that you have a plan makes me feel better because now you can relax a little. I’ll talk Ford into visiting his brother next week. Make sure you send me your calendar so I know when you’ll be in Seattle or New York. If you need anything—”
“I’ll reach out,” I promise.
“This feels weird. You’re always here for me, and now that I feel like you need me, you just disappeared,” she says with a worried voice.
“It was the timing, Persy. If this had happened a week before or a week later maybe you would’ve been there for me instead of Nate.”
“Are you two…?” she didn’t finish speaking but her boyfriend did. “Fucking. It’s called fucking, Persy. I told you they are not.”
“Having hot, dirty sex at night while I’m puking? Oh yes, we are,” I assure her. “We can’t get enough of each other.”
“Sorry, I’m just… This is new to me, Nyx.”
“Having a pregnant sister, feeling like you need to help me but not being here, or…fill in the blank here, because I can only have one person mothering me,” I say and add, “I need my sister and my best friend to be her usual self.”
“Well, then you should let me blog your pregnancy,” she laughs. “What? That’s what I would always ask, Langford. Don’t judge me, grump.”
“I’m trying to get Edward to give up his parental rights,” I explain. “I’m not sure how he’d use this against me, but…I can’t.”
“What if I keep your name under wraps and just call it a friend?”
Usually, I let her post my bad dates. I’m not sure how to feel about letting her post about my baby. Would she post about hers if she ever gets pregnant?
“Fine, but can you please be honest about Nate? Do you like him?” she insists, and God if she’s not annoyingly persistent.
“He’s attractive, funny, and easy to talk to. He also has a lot of baggage and I have a baby to worry about. I’m pretty sure I remind him of his situation.”
“You know about the ex?”
“Yep.”
“Be careful, okay?”
“Hey, I’m the big sister, not you.”
“Well, someone has to take care of you. I just wish you are starting your firm.”
I remind her about my plans and that being in New York is just temporary.
“Where are you going to live?” she continues with the inquisition.
Looking around the terrace, I wonder if I should take Nate’s offer and stay with him. This place isn’t home, but Nate and Brock make things better.
“Living in Brooklyn doesn’t seem practical. I might stay here,” I respond adding the logical explanation Nate gave me earlier.
It’s simple, and hopefully she won’t try to dig deeper until she finds those feelings I’m trying to bury.
“Hmm,” she mumbles.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she answers too fast. I’m sure there’s a lot on her mind but I’m thankful that she’s letting it go, at least for now. “I just wish I was close by. Please, don’t forget I’m here for you.”
“Thank you. Talk to you soon?”
“Yes, I really want to see you. That baby needs to hear my voice often if I want to become her favorite person.”
“Don’t tell that to our parents or they’re going to ask for a sabbatical and follow me everywhere I go,” I say alarmed.
“Well, I should give you a heads up.
They mentioned the possibility of retiring after the school year is over to dedicate their life to their grandchild. Helios, or was it Hanover?”
I laugh, and just like that I’m running to the bathroom to puke. Thankfully there’s a powder room next to the terrace.
Brock is suddenly barking and Nate’s yelling, “Coming!”
Seconds later, he’s holding my hair, rubbing my back, and assuring me that it’s going to be okay.
“I have to bring hand towels from upstairs. In the meantime, I’ll use toilet paper.” I feel the wet compress on the back of my neck, and he places a kiss on my shoulder. “It’s okay, babe. I’m here.”
Once I’m done, I rinse my mouth, and he holds me. “What were you doing?”
“Talking to Persy and laughing.”
“I have to add this to my notes.”
Before I can ask him what he means by notes, his phone rings, “Yeah? She’s fine. It’s called morning sickness. Google it and learn. Yes, I’m with her. No, there’s no need to jump on a plane, but you and your girlfriend are welcome to visit—without hovering.”
He nods, kisses the top of my head while embracing me tighter and says, “I am looking after her. If you can ask Octavio to make more ginger seltzer though. I don’t think we have enough, and that stuff is a godsend. Yes, you can fly them to visit just…I’ll send you the calendar once we know where we’re going to be every week.”
He stays quiet for a long time and finally says, “Yes, Persy, I’ll make sure to keep everything you just said in mind. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to feed your sister.”
Once he hangs up, he pushes me slightly and looks at me. “Are you sure you are okay?”
I nod.
“Okay, I got food and your seltzer is ready.”
“Nate, what’s happening between us?”
He gives me a sad smile and shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m just taking care of you, okay?”
“Thank you,” I say, and I wonder what Persy and Ford said to him.
Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds Book 2) Page 18