Nyx
The first week at Aldridge Enterprises is easy, and by Friday I am able to work part time from Nate’s apartment. He had Demetri set up a small office in one of the guestrooms. When I told him he was like a fairy godfather, I wasn’t kidding. There are times when I am thinking about getting a cup of tea and before I can even walk into the kitchen, he’s already setting up the kettle for me.
He’s beyond sweet. Under different circumstances, I could easily fall in love with him.
Every day, I arrive home before lunch. That gives me a couple of hours to rest before I jump into my daily conference call with Pierce. This is part of our routine, at least until we have a structure, more employees, and less fires to extinguish.
We are officially establishing the law firm in Portland. He doubts he’ll be moving back to Colorado. Nate is hoping that by Thanksgiving, I will just work from Seattle—which is only an hour flight from the offices.
Nate is having a contractor build me a space next to his home office. I’m not sure what he’s doing, or more like why he is doing it. As I explained to him several times, once I’m done with the project in New York, I’m heading back to Colorado.
I don’t think he’s listening. He swears I’m his permanent roommate.
Maybe he feels alone in that big house and he’s trying to fill it with strays. Soon, I have to sit down with him and explain to him that I can’t be a placeholder to stay around while he’s waiting for the next best thing.
The second week isn’t that much different. We wake up early, and I drink whatever smoothie is on the menu. We head out for a thirty-minute run. He goes to the gym while I shower, and when I’m ready to leave for the office there’s a small breakfast waiting for me.
Now Saturday morning is the day we sleep in—and by that I mean wake up at eight.
Today isn’t much different from every single morning. I wake up next to Nate. I blame this sleeping non-arrangement on the blueberry demon. If I didn’t have morning sickness, I wouldn’t be where I am right now.
We should stop this insanity. It’s almost like an unspoken understanding between us. The entire routine is just a pretend game where we say goodnight and head to bed—in separate rooms. But at some point during the night, morning sickness hits me. Brock barks like a possessed dog. Nate swoops inside my bathroom to hold my hair, make sure I’m all right, and holds me after I clean myself.
I don’t understand why he has to hug me for a long period of time after I’m done brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth, but I don’t complain because being in his arms is almost magical. After the second time I get sick during the night, Nate stays with me in my bed. Because, what’s the point of going to his bed when he’ll have to come back running a couple more times?
Now, the huge problem I encounter happens the next morning when I wake up next to Nate. His arms are around me, lips against my bare shoulder, and his morning wood pushing against my ass.
Every day, I have to remind myself that this doesn’t mean anything. Sure, this is what any guy would do if he sleeps with a woman. Isn’t it? I wouldn’t know because the last time I had a steady relationship was back in grad school and we slept naked most of the time.
I glance over at Nate whose long lashes are shut, and his breathing is steady. His torso is bare, and God if I don’t want to trace his tattoos, but I stop myself from doing so many things. Soon, this morning sickness will be over, and I won’t have to wake up reminding myself that he’s just a friend. I won’t have to control the need to run my lips along his rough stubble. I won’t have to have a long chat with my heart while I shower about being safe.
We don’t mean anything to each other. And most importantly, I have to pretend that I don’t like the feel of him sleeping next to me. So, like I do every morning, I wiggle myself out of his embrace, head to the bathroom, and take a shower.
Dressed in one of the cute sundresses I got from the last shopping spree, I step outside the walk-in closet and find him sitting on the bed looking at the nightstand where I have the framed picture of my Sweet Bun.
“According to the sonogram, today is week twelve. If I’m lucky I should stop puking right about now,” I say excitedly.
“If that baby is as stubborn as her mama, it won’t happen until she feels like it,” he jokes.
His raspy voice, that just woke up rustled hair and sleepy eyes leave me speechless, so I resort to the childish stick out my tongue gesture.
“You should just move into my bedroom. My bed is more comfortable,” he suggests, and I laugh.
“Morning,” he greets, throwing that sexy smile my way and making my knees wobble.
He’s so handsome I want to cry. I should tell him that my room, my rules, and he should be wearing a shirt because with that body, that face, and that voice, it is super difficult not to jump him.
He pushes himself out of the bed and gives me a hug. “I’m glad you’re ready. Ford just texted me. Your family should be here in about twenty minutes.”
I frown and stare at him. “What family?”
Taking this opportunity, I step away from his now familiar too-comfortable-hard-to-resist embrace.
If I’m not careful, one of these days I’m going to kiss him accidentally. One kiss will lead to another and…I can’t be responsible for not jumping on top of him and getting my way. Which is a big no in the rule book of temporary roommates.
He arches an eyebrow. “Seriously, you forgot about them already. This is why you’re never leaving my side. What if you forget I exist a day after you leave me?”
“No, but…” I blink a couple of times trying to remember if I discussed a visit or anything with my parents. Mom and Dad kept saying they’d come as soon as they had free time.
Mom would’ve told me if she was planning to visit, wouldn’t she?
“Is it just Ford and Persy?” I ask.
A part of me hopes that it is just them. Then there’s a bigger part of me who wants to see her parents. We have daily calls via FaceTime, but it’s not the same as having them in the same room.
“Let me get ready. I’ll have Demetri walk Brock so I can make you breakfast. Today is mango and avocado smoothie day.”
“You’re making this stay better than any five-star hotel. I might just move in with you forever,” I joke.
He smiles at me, his eyes stare in a way that makes my heart skip several beats, and he says, “We’re happy to have you with us for as long as you want to—always is a good choice by the way.”
“You say that now, but wait until the wailing child is born,” I warn him. “You’ll be kicking us out of the house before we’re out of the hospital.”
He smiles and leans closer to me, kissing my cheek. His lips brush the corner of my mouth so lightly I shiver. Without a word, he walks out of the room and leaves me confused as fuck.
Just as he promised, twenty minutes later, my family is parading through the door.
“She’s alive,” Eros says, walking to me and giving me a hug. “Let’s go home. There’s no need to live in some stranger’s palace. Unless…he invites me to live with him too.”
“You’re such a big concerned brother,” I joke.
“Why are you here again? Because I’ve been hearing a lot of versions from everyone, even Ford.”
“What is his version?” I ask curiously.
“Grunt, grunt, grunt…she’s safe,” he answers and Persy slaps his arm.
“Ouch, I’m kidding. He only grunted once,” he corrects. Persy sneers and I laugh at them. “Persephone’s version is better. She recorded a podcast but it hasn’t aired yet.”
“Did he drink coffee?” I ask, because he’s acting weird.
“So, what’s your version, Andromeda?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “Why are you here?”
“I actually have a real job,” I clarify and tell him all about Aldridge Enterprises, Merkel, and the firm I’m opening with Pierce. “Nate’s kind enough to let me stay at his penthouse free of charge.”
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He turns around and glares at Nate. “Dude, I’m watching you.”
“Just keeping an eye on her,” Nate says innocently.
Mom, who is standing next to Nate and Dad, waltzes over to me and hands me a present. “Something for my grandchild.”
“She’s been knitting all month,” Dad warns me.
I open the hemp bag and take out a beautiful white, teal, and pink blanket. “This is gorgeous, Mom. Thank you.”
“How have you been, Nyxie?” she asks, hugging me. I hug her back, and that’s exactly when I start crying.
I’m not sure if it’s the term of endearment, the fact that I cry about everything, or just because I miss her and I’m not going back home just yet.
Dad joins the hug. Then it’s Persy and Eros. That’s when Mom says, “I wish Callie was here.”
“Fuck, don’t speak to Nyx. Apparently she’s crying over anything,” Eros complains.
When the embrace is over, Nate walks to me and takes me in his arms. “You okay?”
I nod, grabbing the handkerchief he carries around for me.
“So, what has everyone been up to?” I ask, hoping that the water works are over.
“I’m building the baby a crib,” Dad announces.
“Thank you, Dad,” I sniff.
“Are you okay?” Mom asks.
I nod. “Sorry. Lately, everything makes me cry.”
“It’s like someone broke her,” Persy jokes. I glare at her and she smiles. “What? You’re the hard ass of us, and now…well, look at you. So, how’s the sale of the house going?”
“The realtor mentioned there are a couple of people interested,” I tell her. “We don’t know what’s happening. Demetri is going to check it next week to ensure the staging looks good and there aren’t any issues that might be swaying away any potential buyer.”
“Well, I’m moving in with Ford. You can have the penthouse,” she offers.
“Of course, let’s just shove her into the apartment you don’t own and ignore me, the owner,” Nate complains, pointing at himself.
Persy glares at him and says, “It doesn’t bother you that she lives in New York with you, but it upsets you that she can use the place you never lived in? My God, you Chadwick men are infuriating.”
“One of us is a handful,” Nate agrees. “Fortunately for your sister, the annoying one isn’t me. So, when are you two moving in together?”
“We’re looking for a place,” Ford grunts and keeps glaring at Nate.
“Demetri is helping us look for a place for Nyx. Why don’t you talk to him?” Nate offers and then looks around the room.
He sighs, kisses the side of my head, and releases me.
“Follow me, Langford. We need to discuss a few things.”
Persy and I look at each other and shrug while they leave for the terrace and shut the door.
“Let’s go and take a walk around the park,” Mom suggests. “I love sightseeing around this city. In the meantime, you can tell me more about your work.”
I look towards Nate one more time before I agree on leaving the house with them. Nate sounded too serious and concerned. Ford looked pissed, but what do I know? I barely know the guy.
Thirty-Two
Nate
“What part of don’t fuck this for me didn’t you understand?” Ford questions as soon as I close the door. “I fucking told you to stay away from her. But you didn’t give a shit. This is exactly why we can’t have nice things.”
I cross my arms and glare at him as he paces around the terrace. This is why I told him to come out with me. I’m not sure if his girlfriend knows him this well, but fuck if I don’t know exactly what his red face and murderous gaze means.
He’s pissed at me because I was holding Nyx.
“You done with the temper tantrum yet?”
“I fucking warned you,” he repeats flustered.
“Warned me about what, Langford?”
He points toward the house, fuming. “Are you unaware of the little show you had going on in there?”
“Do I need to ask you to forgive me for holding my friend because she was crying?” I laugh and shake my head. “You are priceless, man. Obviously, you have no fucking idea what’s happening between us.”
“You hugged her and kissed her,” he continues.
I facepalm and say, “I keep forgetting that emotionally, you’re a toddler. Friends can hug and kiss too. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“So, if I ask you to swear that there’s nothing between the two of you…” he trails his words and looks toward the house. Then he frowns. “Where the fuck are they?”
“Focus, Langford,” I redirect his attention.
He exhales harshly. His hands open and close into fists. “Okay, then tell me, what is going on between Nyx and you?”
“You sound like a fucking broken record,” I complain, walking toward the end of the terrace.
I rest my arms on the stone wall railing and stare at the park.
Nyx loves the view. Not as much as she loves the one from Seattle, but she can spend hours outside just staring at the park.
“Nathaniel, don’t ignore me,” he orders.
I look over my shoulder and glare at him. He wants me to answer a loaded question. I have five words for him: Nothing, everything, I’m fucking confused. Which I don’t say because he won’t like them.
A few beats later, I turn around to face him and say, “At the moment, we’re friends and roommates. She’s going through a lot of changes. I can’t offer her anything more than a place where she can stay, my friendship, and my badass cooking skills.”
“But you’re still attracted to her,” he states, serving me with a nasty glare that would frighten others, but it just pisses me off. “Which means there’s nothing innocent about those hugs.”
“Funny that you mention that. They are indeed innocent,” I clarify. “Am I attracted to her? Yes. She’s gorgeous, smart, and most importantly, she understands me. Am I going to act on that? No, because I’m not in a good place. That reminds me, I am going to California next weekend to visit Mom.”
He blinks a couple of times and repeats, “Mom?”
“Yes. I started therapy, and you know what I realized?”
He stares at me, mouth open and eyes wide. Well, I surprised myself too when I began searching for a counselor. Two and a half weeks, six sessions, and four books haven’t transformed me, but at least I realized that it’s time to confront my mother.
“Please, don’t say that we have mommy issues?” he responds.
“No, but maybe we do. I have abandonment issues, and I need closure from her.”
“She has a new family,” he growls.
“We know,” I agree. “She’s still the woman who up and left us without even a goodbye. There has to be more to our parents’ divorce.”
“You are hoping that there is more because if not, it makes her the bitch who left her children,” he roars.
“I need to know what that more is, Langford,” I claim. “You might be okay not solving your past, but I am not.”
“Everyone copes differently,” he claims.
I narrow my gaze and ask, “Are you going to therapy too?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’d rather read and then discuss my shit with you or Persy. Which brings me to, I want to talk to Dad about his new family.”
“What about it?” I ask instead of reminding him that they aren’t new.
Dad remarried almost twenty years ago. There’s nothing new about them. My stepmother is fine but awkward as fuck. She has no fucking clue on how to treat Ford and me. Clyde, her son, is a leach who sucks us dry any time he can. If I had a choice, I’d rather not deal with them. I love my dad, and that’s why I put up with his family.
“We have to stop having these awkward reunions with his wife, Ruby, and Clyde. They don’t like us, and we hate them. Why not leave them at home and hang out with just us, his sons?” he suggests.
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�I like that,” I agree with him and say, “We can go to L.A. next weekend. Play a round of golf with Dad, then have a cup of coffee with Mom afterward.”
He exhales harshly, takes a look around the terrace and asks, “What if I don’t want to see our mother?”
“You can wait for me at home while I’m with her, and then we can spend the weekend with Nyx and Persy,” I suggest.
“Again with Nyx,” he protests.
“She’s my friend,” I argue.
“Dude, Eros is my friend, and you don’t see me hugging him and kissing him. Do you?” Good. He’s joking.
Since his temper has simmered down, I take the opportunity to say, “I have a lot of shit to work through before I can make a move.”
“So, he thinks,” he mumbles. “Man, you’re drooling for her. It took you a lot of self-control not to push her family away from her so you could be the one hugging her. But you’re fucked up, and she deserves someone better.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“So they say.”
“Listen, I’m not sure if what’s happening with Nyx is real. I won’t know until I get closure,” I emphasize.
“From Bronwyn too?”
I nod.
“Call if you need me,” he offers. “Just, don’t fuck with Nyx or I swear I’ll push you down the Grand Canyon and claim it to be an accident.”
“With a brother like you, I don’t need enemies.”
He shrugs and we go back inside the house. Since the place is empty, I text Nyx.
Nate: Where are you?
Nyx: The park.
Nate: I’m going to do some work, but if you don’t come back in a couple of hours I’ll catch up with you.
Nyx: It’s Saturday. You shouldn’t be working. The anti-workaholic rules apply to both of us.
I look up at Ford, who seems like he needs a few hours without the Brassards, and I fire up a text.
Nate: Since when did we come up with those rules? Though, I’m doing this for Ford. Miss you.
Nyx: It’s one of those unspoken rules. Don’t work much, okay?
Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds Book 2) Page 20