by Petrova, Em
I fight the urge to groan too. As if it isn’t hard enough already.
Chapter Five
Nick
We walk down to the coffee place on the corner when the cops turn up. I had to get Sienna out of there. It’s bad enough all her stuff’s been trashed but she doesn’t need to see the forensics team pawing through it. I’m jumpy. My body is tense and every shadow screams danger to me. I long to wrap an arm around her shoulders but I don’t know if she’ll let me.
Besides I’m trying not to let on how terrified I am for her. Something is off. Her nearly being attacked, almost ending up in jail and now this… I don’t like it and my instincts are telling me there’s something more than straight bad luck behind it. The possibility that it’s linked to Rob’s illegal activities plays in the back of my mind, but I don’t want to say anything yet. She’s scared enough as it is, in spite of the brave front she’s putting on.
I’m just hoping the cops will figure out who it was and we can put it all behind us. And Sienna and I can move on. I glance at her cute profile and put a hand to her back as I usher her into the coffee shop. Without a word, she heads for the leather couches at the back and sinks onto one while I get our drinks. I know what she likes so I order her a vanilla latte. Hell, I know a lot more about Sienna than anyone in my life really. Those six months of practically living in each other’s pockets taught me a lot about her.
She wraps her arms around herself. I guess I didn’t realize quite how hard it would be to let Rob go though. I assumed she’d just be glad to be rid of him. I kinda thought she’d miraculously return to the girl she was. Well, it’s not like I don’t like a challenge. When I returned from Afghanistan, they weren’t sure I was going to walk and I did that. I conquered my injury.
I can’t resist a smug grin. I’ll conquer Sienna too.
Sienna smiles gratefully when I hand her the coffee and she cups her hands around it. I sit next to her, not too close, and I can see the door from where I am. At the moment, everyone looks suspicious to me. The guy in the corner on his laptop. The two men in suits by the door. Even the young girl on her phone. I regret not having been there for her. It eats at me, reminds me of feeling powerless—like when soldiers were falling about me, riddled with bullets. For the briefest moment I can smell the sweat, hear the gunfire and screams—even taste the sand. Sienna presses a hand gently to my arm, drawing my attention to her.
“You don’t have to look like you want to kill everyone, you know?”
“Sorry,” I say with a bashful grin. “I’m just on edge.”
“Yeah, me too.” She sips her coffee and sighs. “Do you think it will take long?”
“What? The forensics?”
“Yeah.”
“I have no idea. Are you tired?”
“No…” On cue, she yawns and we both laugh. “I shouldn’t be. I slept all day after…” Her cheeks turn crimson. “After my night shift. I’d still be at work right now if it hadn’t been for all this.”
The temptation to mention what really exhausted her is unbearable, but as much as I want to push things forward—yeah I think I’m going to have to push Sienna when it comes to us—she doesn’t need it right now.
“You’ve had a lot of shocks today. I’m not surprised you’re tired.” I lounge back on the couch in an attempt to look a little more relaxed, though I don’t feel it, and hope she will follow suit. From the moment I got her call from the station, I’ve been wound tight. I don’t think she’s figured out quite how scared for her I was. I must have driven like a maniac to get her. “You’re not working tomorrow, right?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’ve got two days off anyway.”
“What? You’ve actually got a Sunday off?”
“I know, right?”
Really it’s amazing she’s got time off at all. Hospitals are always understaffed but I’m convinced Sienna puts in way more hours than anyone. She keeps going on about wanting to be strong and independent, but she doesn’t get that I already see strength in her. The woman goes to work smiling, deals with all sorts of crap, works all hours for no thanks, and still comes out with a smile. I don’t suppose she’ll ever understand how much I admire her for it. In this day and age, I don’t know, sometimes it feels like people want a quick buck and don’t want to work for it. It’s one of the reasons she’ll be an incredible mother. She has that nurturing thing down to an art.
I shake away the thoughts. I need to learn to concentrate on the task at hand. For some reason, my mind keeps leaping like five years ahead and picturing her pregnant with my child. And as much as I want that, I would rather be imagining her naked.
Shit.
I hardly know if either is going to be possible and now I’m imagining both. I’m planning out our whole future and she’s just sitting there innocently drinking her coffee. I admire her lips as they form an ‘o’ to blow on her coffee. Then I imagine them pouty, waiting for my kiss. She’s almost naked. Wearing a little slip of panties. Let’s make them red. I’ve already taken her hair down and it’s around her shoulders, brushing the tops of her breasts. And then she’s leaning forward and her lips are still puckered and she’s going to…
I groan and she darts a puzzled look at me. Fuck, I must have groaned aloud. So much for keeping my mind on track. I fidget, grateful I’m still wearing sweatpants and not jeans.
“How was your shift last night anyway?” I ask lamely. I need something to distract myself from all the hot imaginings I’m having and she needs to forget about her trashed apartment.
“Not great, to be honest.”
God, now I feel like an asshole.
“One of our patients crashed. He was pretty old but we thought he was going to be okay. It wasn’t… pleasant.” She stares at her coffee. “I don’t think I’ve seen one like that in a while actually.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Sienna.”
Sienna offers me a small smile. “Yeah, I haven’t had the best luck today, have I?”
I put a hand to her shoulder and give it a quick squeeze. Somehow even that turns me on, the feel of her delicate form under my palm. Probably because I remember what it was like when she had nothing on.
“I haven’t really helped, have I?” I’m feeling so guilty right now. She’s been through more than anyone should have to cope with in their lifetime all in one day and I stormed off like a sulking little boy. Possibly when she needed help most.
“I don’t blame you for being pissed at me, Nick. I was pretty rude. You’ve done a lot for me and I’ll always be grateful for your friendship.”
Urgh, there it is. Friendship. That fateful word. Friend-zoned, as they say. But I still feel like a fucking jerk for my behavior earlier so I smile and pretend the word doesn’t jab me like a damned knife. I’ve been her friend for so long, and I don’t ever intend for that to change, but it’s been painful, holding back, letting her make her mistakes with Rob and keeping my mouth shut.
“I’ll always be here for you, short stuff. No matter what.”
She leans back, hands still clutching the coffee and closes her eyes with a sigh. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Nick?”
I shake my head and study the arch of her neck. I can’t help think the same about her. She’s so amazing and she just doesn’t see it. And as much as it’s been so difficult keeping my hands off her all these years, I can’t regret those years spent waiting. Because I have a shot now.
***
Sienna
It’s almost three am by the time the police pack up. They’ve dusted for prints and taken mine. I’m still angry but I’m tired now, in spite of having slept through the day and the fact I’d still be at work normally. The fatigue has taken the edge off my resentment.
I study the mess and shake my head. Where do I even start?
“Leave it for now,” Nick says, coming up behind me from the kitchen.
“I don’t know if I can. I don’t really want to wake up to this.”
“It’s late. Yo
u won’t get much done.” He bends to pick up some fragments of vase and I catch myself admiring the way his jogging pants pull tight over his ass. I snap my gaze away as he comes back to standing.
“We can get everything cleared up in the morning.”
We? “No, Nick, you’ve done enough. Anyway, it is morning.”
“You need some rest and I’m not leaving you to sort this mess on your own. Besides, I wouldn’t leave you anyway.”
I prop my hands on my hips and face him head on. “What do you mean?”
“Sweetheart, you’ve just had your place broken into, your door is still damaged and who knows if they found what they wanted. I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Nick, I’m a big girl. I can do this on my own.” I fight the need to stomp my foot. This domineering act is getting old quickly. I’m not the most street-wise of people but I’m starting to get fed up with being babied.
“Fine, then at least go stay in a hotel for the rest of the night. Until we get new locks put on. New, extra-strong locks.”
“Nick, we are not a ‘we.’” I motion between us. “I will sort some locks tomorrow and I am not staying in a hotel. I am not being chased out of my home!”
His lips twitch as if he’s struggling to hide his amusement. “Guess I’m staying here then.”
“No!”
Nick chuckles. “Hotel then?”
“No!”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere, babe, so either you try to kick me out or get used to the idea that I ain’t leaving.”
I thrust my chin out as he crosses both arms across his chest. I eye that torso and consider my options. There’s no way I have any hope of ejecting him by force.
“Argh, fine.” I throw my hands up. “Though I don’t know where you’re going to sleep.”
He glances behind us toward the bedroom. The door is still ajar and my bed, with its crumpled sheets, is visible. My heart skips slightly at the idea of sharing a bed with him.
I see him shake his head marginally. Shit, is he thinking what I’m thinking?
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he announces and, as if marking his territory, he steps through the double doors and sits. “I can see the door from here.”
With a scowl, hands still on my hips, I take a moment to study him. Damn if he doesn’t look so very right sitting in my apartment, as if he owns the place. Though my couch is a little small for a man of his size. “You won’t fit on there.”
“I’ll do fine. Stop fretting and get ready for bed.”
I huff—a long slow one. “Fine,” I mutter as I turn away, snatch a glass from the kitchen and rinse it in the sink before filling it. “Do you want to use the bathroom before me?” I call out. “You can… use my toothbrush if you want.” I pause because it seems too intimate. But I realize he is doing me a favor really. I need to at least try to be a little pleasant even if I don’t want him to stay.
“Thanks.”
I wait for him to go past me and hear the bathroom door shutting. Blowing out a breath, I dash into my room to grab my PJs so I can dive past him once he’s finished. I tap my foot as I listen to the water run and try not to picture him washing up. The strange urge to see him shaving strikes me. What would it be like to sit in the bathroom and chat with him as he shaves? It’s a bizarrely domestic picture that I really don’t need.
His gaze snaps to mine when he opens the door, as if surprised to see me. “It’s all yours,” he says as he holds the door open.
I’m forced to press past him and I keep my gaze downward. My hands shake slightly as I wash, and then brush my teeth. The image of his hair damp and spiky is going to haunt my dreams tonight. And now he’s going to sleep on the couch. Only a door and a few short steps will separate us. I put my toothbrush back in the plastic tumbler and grip the edge of the sink as I study myself.
This is too much. All of it. Rings circle my eyes though I shouldn’t be tired, not from the sleep I had during the day. It’s been brought on by the strain. Too many things have happened in one day. Attacked, almost arrested, robbed.
Oh, yeah, don’t forget sleeping with your best friend.
I scrape my hands through my hair and grimace at my reflection. I clearly have no common sense. Why would I risk the only honest-to-goodness friendship I have by sleeping with Nick? But it’s clear I’m not exactly smart when it comes to men. Otherwise, I’d have realized what Rob was up to.
With the break in, I’d almost forgotten the things that had come to light about him. How can you be married to someone for so long and not realize they’re drug dealing? When did he get into it? And did he use?
I don’t think so and neither does Nick. Rob’s moods weren’t great but that was usually due to alcohol. I’m sure the military would have found out if he had. And that’s the thing about Rob. In spite of everything, he loved being a soldier. I’m not sure if it was the hero worship that came with it or the adrenaline-filled moments, but he appeared to thrive on it. The few times I spoke to him when he was in Afghanistan were the few times he seemed like the man I’d first met. The one who was outgoing, outrageous, exciting…
Ugh. I shake my head at myself, cursing the young girl who fell for such a man. But I didn’t understand that exciting and outgoing didn’t make a marriage at the time.
My thoughts turn to the man now taking up my couch. It’s funny because I used to think of Nick as dependable, caring, practical—the things that do make up a marriage—but he excites me too. In a completely different way to Rob. Rob never made my skin prickle with his mere presence and he certainly didn’t make my pussy clench by looking at me.
As I watch myself in the mirror, I see a glaze come over my eyes and I shake it off.
Shoving away from the sink, I change into my nightwear. A cotton camisole and checkered shorts. It’s not glamorous but it’s comfy. I gave up on sexy nightwear a long time ago when I realized Rob preferred the company of other women at night to mine. Coldness clutches at my chest as feelings of inadequacy eat into me. It didn’t matter that I didn’t like the man Rob had become; no woman wants to be cheated on. Sometimes I laid in bed at night and wished he’d just come back to me—return to being the man I thought I’d married—as I pictured him with other women. Christ, why did I spend so long wishing and not taking action?
Drawing in a breath, I open the door. Hopefully Nick’s all settled and I won’t even have to—
He’s sitting on my bed.
Damn the man. He studies me, slow and languorously, and I flex my fingers, longing to splay my hands across myself. My simple PJs now feel sexy and I’m definitely showing off too much skin.
“Can I—” I cough. “Is everything okay?”
Nick nods slowly, his eyes saying everything is more than okay. My skin heats and I hope he can’t see the redness that’s no doubt in my cheeks and on my chest.
“Yeah,” he says finally, gaze lingering on my bare legs. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Though I don’t sound fine. Having your heart going the same rate as a freight train or your blood boiling beneath your skin probably isn’t fine. But that wasn’t what he meant.
He doesn’t look convinced.
“It’s been a crazy day and I am a little shaken but I’m okay, I swear. I just need some rest and I need to get this place back to normal and then I’ll be great.”
Nick takes a moment to study me once more and stands. “All right. Just checkin’.”
“Oh.” I go to my closet. “Here’s some blankets.” I draw out two old ones that I usually use if the temperature drops and pass them over.
“Thanks.” He takes them from me.
“Do you need something to sleep in?” I bend down and rummage through the bottom drawer. “I might have some old T-shirts.” I find one and come up to standing.
His eyes are wary and he looks tense, like he’s going to explode at any moment.
Baffled, I thrust out the T-shirt. “It’s
one of Rob’s. I don’t know why I still have them really. Or would it be weird wearing his stuff?” He doesn’t respond so I hesitate before turning around and chucking the T-shirt back in the drawer. That was a stupid idea. “Sorry, guess it would be.”
With a wry laugh, he nods. “Yeah, I don’t want to be wearing his stuff, but I got to tell you, babe, I’m more worried about your night clothes.”
“What?”
“If you’re sleeping like that,” he motions with one hand down me, “then it’s going to make me sleeping there,” now he points to the couch, “a real trial. ‘Cause when you bend over in those shorts, all I want to do is take you to bed and peel them from you.”
I slap a hand to my hot cheeks. I feel scalded by his words and at the same time secretly pleased. I suppose I lost a lot of confidence when Rob stopped having sex with me. Though I know I’ve got a good a figure, I think there’s more to being sexy than that. I just don’t feel like I have that ‘thing’ that makes a person sexy.
But Nick’s words make me think otherwise. And I sure felt sexy in bed with him yesterday morning. I search for something witty to say. Something a hot, sensual woman would utter, but nothing comes and I stand there stupidly gaping.
“Sleep well, short stuff.”
I nod.
“And tomorrow, we’re getting rid of those damned T-shirts.”
Before I can react, he’s gone and has closed the bedroom door behind him. I step away from the drawer, kick it shut and sink onto my bed.
I never considered how Nick felt toward Rob after his death. I assumed he must have grieved for the guy who was his best friend, but I’ve seen Nick grieve and I know full well he does it stoically. When he was in the fire fight that injured his leg, he lost three men. Even then, he remained so calm and in control.
But that reaction—it was so negative. More like something you’d expect between an ex-boyfriend and a new boyfriend. Except Nick isn’t my boyfriend and Rob was his best friend. Even if we have been nursing this attraction for a while—and I don’t even want think about that—surely that doesn’t change the fact they were close friends? He’s said stuff that’s hinted at his frustration with Rob but I guess I assumed he still considered him his friend. God, who knows? I don’t feel like I know anything right now.