“Hey.” He took her face between his palms, his thumbs stroking over her cheekbones. “I didn’t mean it that way. What happened . . . happened. We have to figure out now and how to make this work.” His arms went around her, a palm roving up and down her back as he held her close. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and she smiled as contentment and hope replaced the sadness.
This is what it meant to be happy. She’d never felt it before. Even in Chicago, she’d always known the end was near, so she’d never been able to let down her guard completely. But now . . . now there was no specified end. She wasn’t ready to believe there wouldn’t be an end, but she was ready to learn how to enjoy being here with him, now. To try. That realization was like a weight lifting off her chest.
“The Imperial March” cut through the quiet apartment and made her stiffen and pull away as if she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. Because she was. In all the drama, anguish, and joy involved in getting back together with Nick, she’d forgotten about her dad and his stupid nonfraternization clause. Shit. Shit. Shit. “That’s my dad.” Her phone’s screen lit up on the bedside table with his name.
“Darth Vader?” Nick laughed, but seemed in no hurry to let her go, and his hands moved back down to her hips.
She shrugged. “Seemed appropriate. I have to go to work. I’m sorry.”
His smile didn’t fade as he brushed her hair back from her face. “I’ll miss you.”
“Me too.” It didn’t seem fair to have to leave him so soon, but the weekend was coming up and they could spend it in bed. She leaned up to kiss his chin before pulling away to find her clothes. They’d been left all over the place.
“Want to grab lunch later?” he asked.
The question made her pause. She wanted to. But if they had lunch together, that meant going public, and they couldn’t do that. What were they supposed to do about that clause? Grabbing her dress off of the floor, she sat down on the bed and held it rumpled in her lap. “We need to talk about that.”
His brow furrowed, and he sat down next to her. “About what exactly?”
“About us, going forward.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but there’s a nonfraternization clause in the contracts we signed with the WFC.”
“What?” He looked like she’d just told him aliens had landed on the Strip.
“It’s a dating policy. Employees and fighters are not allowed to date.”
He shook his head. “No, I know what it is, but how does that apply? Companies usually have those to keep managers from dating their direct reports, but that’s not the case here. Darcy chose me for the campaign before you even knew about it. You have no say in which fighters get brought into the league. I don’t understand how that applies.”
“Because my dad might be a control freak?” She tried to joke to lighten the mood, but the truth was that their hands were tied. “It’s not just for managers. It’s for everyone. He doesn’t want anyone in the company dating another person in the company.”
“That’s bullshit. Can he do that? Is it legal?”
She nodded and chewed her bottom lip. “I think so.”
“You mean we have to keep us a secret?” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t, Jules. After being away from you for so long, I can’t let some goddamn piece of paper keep us apart.”
She ran her hand up and down his back. “It won’t keep us apart. We can’t be together at work, and I suppose we’ll have to stay clear of a lot of public places, but we can still be together here, and at my place.”
But he still shook his head. “I won’t sneak around with you like we’re doing something wrong. We need to talk to Darcy, tell him what’s going on.”
That was a horrible idea. He’d hated every boyfriend she’d ever had, and he already seemed to dislike Nick for his own petty reasons. The clause would just be like adding lighter fluid to a spark. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He looked at her with a mixture of pain and anger on his face and she hurried to add, “Right now.”
“Is this . . .” He ran a hand over his jaw and cleared his throat. “Is this about you or the clause?”
“I want to be with you, Nick. I came here last night because I’m in. Completely.” His bottomless eyes were uncertain, and she hated that she’d done that to him. But still he nodded, accepting her words. “I’m afraid of what he might do if he finds out. God knows he won’t be happy, but I don’t want him to jeopardize anything for you.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“That we don’t let people at work know about us. Just until the tournament is over.” She bit her lip, because she couldn’t read his expression.
“That’s nearly six weeks.”
Put that way it sounded like so long when they’d already waited a year. “I’m still trying to work things out with Dad. We’ve only had dinner once since I’ve been here.” She paused. “How about this? Give me some time to work on my relationship with him and feel him out before we spring this on him. If I can get to a better place with him, maybe I can get him to see how ridiculous this clause is.”
Nick let out a breath but nodded. “That seems fair.”
“Even if it does mean waiting until after the tournament to tell him? To go public?” She needed to make sure Nick was okay with that, just in case. “I don’t want to jeopardize the tournament—your career.”
He nodded. “Hell, I’ve waited this long for you.” He gave her a devious smile. “You’ll have to make it up to me, though.” His voice was low and rough when he asked, “What happens if you’re late for work?”
Her body responded instinctively to his voice, coming alive. More than anything she wanted him again. “I don’t know.” She’d probably have to deal with a Craig Darcy tantrum, but it’d be worth it. Hell, she’d probably have to deal with a tantrum even if she wasn’t late.
He grinned and leaned toward her. “We’re gonna find out.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she dipped her head.
“No fair. You brushed your teeth.” It was probably a dumb thing to worry about. They’d had sex plenty of times in the mornings before getting out of bed back in Chicago. But this was different. This was new and exciting and scary and she wanted it to be perfect. If she tried hard enough to get everything right, maybe it really could all work out.
“You think I care?” he said, and kissed a line across her jaw.
“I care.” I care. About this, about us, about you. This matters.
He growled in playful frustration and let her go. “You’ve got thirty seconds,” he said, releasing her and then smacking her ass as she ran toward the bathroom.
She yelped and rubbed her backside, the tingling pain only making her throb that much harder for him. She looked wild-eyed and crazy when she saw herself in the mirror. Thanks to his fingers her hair was tangled, but there was such a glow of happiness on her face that it made her pause for a second. Being with Nick had done that. Suddenly she didn’t know what she’d been so afraid of, and why she’d been so reluctant to say yes to him. To say yes to this happiness.
Something exciting and good bloomed within her.
“Jules!”
She laughed at his tone and grabbed the bottle of mouthwash. God, she’d missed him.
15
Nick wedged his phone between his ear and his shoulder and then tugged the refrigerator door open, pulling out the tzatziki sauce he’d made an hour before. “You took him to his appointment? He actually went this time?”
His brother, Alex, let out an exasperated chuckle, his frustration clear even over the phone. “Yeah. He clearly can’t be trusted to go on his own.” Their father had been dealing with chest pains, shortness of breath, and back pain for almost a year now, but after finally getting him to go see the doctor, he’d skipped out on h
is referral appointment with the cardiologist a few months ago. This time, Alex had gone with him to make sure the wily bastard actually showed up.
Nick spooned the tzatziki, a Greek yogurt and cucumber sauce, into a small dish and set it on the kitchen table. “How did it go?” A pang of guilt sliced through him that he wasn’t there with his family. Alex had been taking on extra shifts at the restaurant on evenings and weekends, working around his full-time job as an IT analyst at a large insurance company, picking up Nick’s slack and trying to give their stubborn father time to rest. He had the sudden realization that moving halfway across the country to pursue his dream was inherently and undeniably selfish. He was putting fighting before his family.
Maybe he wasn’t as different from Craig Darcy as he’d thought. And shit if that didn’t send a wisp of fear curling through him.
“It was okay. They did blood work, a chest X-ray, and an EKG. It showed that his heartbeat was irregular, so he has to wear this portable device thing for the next three days and then go back.”
“Shit. His heartbeat was irregular?”
“Yeah.”
“So what now?”
“They’ll get the results from the monitor and go from there. Could be treatable with meds.” Alex paused and then sighed, and when he continued, Nick could hear the worry in his brother’s voice. “He might need heart surgery, though.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“How’s Mom?”
“She’s worried. I think we have enough baklava to last into next year.”
Nick swallowed and closed his eyes, picturing his mother in their kitchen, her favorite yellow apron over her clothes, flour strewn on the countertops. Whenever she was upset, she baked. Ravani meant she was sad. Ekmek kataifi meant she was angry. Yiaourtopita meant she was disappointed. And baklava? It meant she was worried. A whole language of emotions, conveyed in pastries.
He checked on the chicken souvlaki skewers on the small countertop grill and then wiped his hands on the kitchen towel. “Keep me posted. I can come home if you need me to.” He was only older than Alex by sixteen months, but Nick was still the older brother. He felt like shit that he wasn’t there, handling things for his family.
“I’ve got it covered, man.”
Nick knew there was no point in arguing with Alex, and he shook his head as he realized that even if he wanted to go home right now, he couldn’t. Between training and the media campaign, his schedule was booked. The tournament was fast approaching, and he needed to keep his head in the game. No distractions.
Fuck. He was thinking of his family as a distraction. And God, that made him feel like an asshole.
“Okay. Thanks, Alex.”
“Yeah. So what’s new with you? How’s everything going?”
“Good. Really good, actually,” he said, and started filling Alex in on his training, on the WFC campaign, on living in Vegas. Nick had a feeling that Alex was as grateful for the change in topic as he was. “And I’m seeing someone,” he said, retrieving the salad he’d thrown together earlier from the fridge. He smiled as he thought of Jules. They’d only been officially back together for a couple of days, but they’d quickly settled into a comfortable routine, spending their days working and their evenings curled up at his place. Usually in bed, making up for lost time.
“Oh yeah? Lemme guess. Dancer? No, stripper?”
Nick laughed, but then paused before he answered. He wasn’t sure what kind of answer he was expecting from Alex when he shared his news. “Do you remember Jules Darcy?”
Silence. Nick pulled the phone away from his ear and glanced at the screen, checking to see if he’d lost the connection, but the call was still active.
Finally, Alex replied. “Yeah, I remember her.”
“She works for the WFC.” Nick rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, feeling suddenly uneasy.
“And you guys are back together?” Alex’s voice was flat.
“Uh, yeah.”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Nico. This girl wrecked you.” He could practically taste the disapproval in Alex’s voice.
“Yeah. She did.” Alex would know, since he’d been the one to pick up the pieces after Jules had shattered him.
“So what are you doing? She’s poison, man.”
Nick rubbed a hand over his chest, a hollow memory of the ache Jules had caused, and he regretted telling Alex about getting back together with her. Not that he liked lying to his brother either. And if he and Jules had a future—and Nick hoped like hell they did—Alex would’ve found out eventually. “She had her reasons. I didn’t understand at the time, but I do now. It was complicated, and we’re trying again.”
“I don’t know how you can trust her. I don’t get it.”
Nick shoved away that ever-present wisp of fear, trying to ignore it. This was a fresh start, and they couldn’t move forward if he held the past against her. She’d said she was sorry, and she’d been the one to say yes to giving them a second chance. Things were different this time, even though they had to keep their relationship a secret from her father. He understood why—the nonfraternization clause, her concerns about her father’s reaction—but a part of him felt like while he was jumping in with both feet, she was keeping at least one toe out.
“You don’t have to get it. Just be happy for me.” He didn’t want to argue with Alex, and he knew that nothing either of them said would help the situation. He could almost see his mother shaking her head, admonishing her “stubborn Giannakis men.”
Alex sighed again, jumbling up Nick’s emotions even further. The guilt over not being there for his family, the fear that he and Jules couldn’t make this work, that he would hurt her the way her father had, or that she’d hurt him again, the homesickness—all of it washed over him, and he leaned against the counter, steadying himself. “Fine. Whatever. It’s your life. I’ll call you if there are any updates about Dad, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Yep.”
“Seriously, man. I appreciate everything you’re doing.”
“Don’t sweat it. Talk to you soon.”
They hung up and Nick checked the time on his phone. Almost seven. Jules had originally said she’d be by around five thirty, but had texted him to push it to six thirty, and now she was nearly half an hour late. He started to text her, but stopped at the soft knock on his door.
“It’s open,” he called, and Jules walked in, looking sexy as hell in her tight gray pencil skirt and light blue blouse. She dropped her purse and laptop bag by the front door and kicked off her heels.
“Oh my God, it smells amazing in here,” she said as she walked over. She stopped in front of him, and without another word, fisted her hand in his T-shirt and pulled his mouth to hers. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight against him. Her tongue slid against his, slow and soft, and he felt the guilt, the fear, the worry left over from his conversation with Alex evaporate. Jules was here, kissing him, sweetly and softly, and they were together.
“Hi,” she whispered against his lips, and he smiled, pressing his forehead to hers.
“Hi.” He kissed her again, longer and deeper this time, and she moaned softly against his lips. Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she broke the kiss, laughing.
“Sorry. I didn’t get lunch today. Crazy day.”
He backed away and began plating the food. The memory of cooking for her in Chicago the night she’d left swooped in, picking at him like a vulture. He shoved it away. Fresh start. New memories.
“Yeah, I was about to text you when you came in. Stuck at work?”
She sighed and rolled her neck from side to side. “Yeah. Organizing the press conference, responding to media inquiries, setting up a few more interviews for you, dealing with cranky billboard vendors. I’m drowning.”
Nick set their
plates on the table and poured them each a glass of wine. As she approached the table, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. Because he wanted to and he could.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said.
She smiled up at him, genuine warmth and happiness lighting up her face. “Me too.”
He let her go and pulled her chair out for her. Her hair was pulled up into an elegant twist, and unable to help himself, he bent and kissed the nape of her neck. “Mmm. Food isn’t the only thing that smells good.”
She released a soft little moan and her head fell forward. He brought his hands to her shoulders and started working on the tension knotted in her muscles while he trailed kisses up and down her neck.
“I found out today that Dad’s hiring someone to help me.”
“That’s great. Sounds like you could use a hand.”
“It’s Ashlynn.” He felt her shoulders tense beneath his hands. He crouched down beside her chair and tipped her face toward his.
“Are you jealous?”
She bit her lip and then flashed him a half smile. “Yes.”
Maybe it was petty, or unevolved, but her jealousy fed something raw and primal deep inside him. Her simple admission was significant, because it meant she was in. He could’ve laughed at himself and his earlier fears. He’d let Alex get to him. Idiot.
She cupped his cheek and met his eyes. “Did you sleep with her? I need to know.”
He laid a hand over hers and shook his head. “No. Not even a kiss. And you know why?”
It was her turn to shake her head. “Why?”
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. While we ate. While I drove her home. While I fell asleep. It was you, and only you.”
She kissed him, chasing away everything bad. Her mouth was warm and sweet against his, and he drank it in, savoring it. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss—their food was getting cold, and they were both hungry.
He sat down and took a sip of his wine, watching her as she bit into a piece of chicken and chewed enthusiastically. “Honestly, Jules, I think it’s kinda cute that you’re jealous.”
Dirty Boxing Page 15