Nikan Rebuilt--A steamy, emotional rockstar romance

by Scarlett Cole

  Nik ran his hand through his hair. “Which was me being an idiot.”

  “I’m not going to argue with that,” she said. “So, tell me what you are thinking about the TV show.”

  With a sigh, Nik reached for more feta. “I’ve never really felt it was my job to educate. And after all the ways I have fucked up, I’m in no position to be anybody’s role model. I’m also no expert. So, the idea of going on a TV show to trace my ancestry and to talk about it articulately leaves me half angry and half terrified. I mean, what context are the genealogists and whoever else does all the tracing back going to have for my ancestry when I can’t confirm or deny what they are saying?”

  She took a sip of water and thought about the questions she’d ask herself. “What scares you most about doing it?”

  “Looking like an idiot is an obvious one. And not being enough—not Cayuga enough to meet the show’s expectations, and not white enough to meet the viewers’. They are going to tell me shit I don’t know, and probably should know, and never bothered to learn because once I entered that group home, I knew I was on my own. It didn’t matter where I came from. The only thing that mattered was how I survived from there on out.”

  Jenny reached his hand. “Do you really believe that? That you’re not enough.”

  Nik leaned back in his seat and placed his hand over the back of the chair next to him. “Do I really believe that?” He spoke as if trying on the question for size. “Do I really believe that?” he mumbled.

  Cristos coughed discreetly. He put a large tray down on an adjoining table. “I have your food order, and if you would like to order more, just let me know.”

  He placed the dishes on the table and left them to it.

  “You asked a good question,” Nikan said, helping himself to the shrimp. “If I do the show, I think everybody will have expectations of the outcome, and of me. I mean, for all the prime minister’s good intentions, he hasn’t really followed through on solving any of the problems faced by First Nations Peoples, or Inuit or Métis either. The education and healthcare gap is still huge on versus off reserve. And there’s a total lack of understanding and empathy for the challenges First Nations people face because most people can’t be bothered to understand the trauma caused by the residential schools, for example. Nobody wants to learn what happened there. I mean, sure, I could explain that my grandmother was locked in a closet for hours at a time when she was caught speaking her own language, and how that left her very bitter . . . and how that bitterness filled every part of her life afterward, making her home a difficult place for my father to grow up in, but does anybody really care? If I go on the show and make a big deal about how my grandfather lost his hearing from being slapped across his ear, repeatedly, I’ll likely be dismissed by the mainly white audience as just another member of the First Nations banging on about things we should just get over. If I don’t bring it up, if I don’t articulate it correctly, or if I try to claim it is my own experience—which it isn’t—I’ll be taken to task for not representing.”

  She could see the challenge he faced. “Which is the greater concern? That a show about this isn’t the right thing to do? Or that you might not manage it correctly if you do it?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  “You know, one of the things I always ask the kids in my care to do when they have a decision to make is to just make a classic pros-and-cons list. Two columns. Just start throwing your thoughts into a list like that, and I’m sure it will become apparent pretty quickly to you which way you feel most strongly.” She took a bite of the food, and it was just as good as always.

  “What do you think I should do, Jenny?” Nik asked, his eyes focused on hers.

  “Only you can answer that question, Nik. But I’m more than willing to be a sounding board for you while you play it out and perhaps ask questions that might help you think about it differently. The only person that can choose in the end, though, is you.”

  Nik looked at her, really studied her as he placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands. “You know, you look incredibly sexy when you’re being smart.”

  Jenny blushed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Stop,” he said. “I’m the one sitting on this side of the table, and I’m the one on the receiving end of your advice. Believe me, Jenny. You’ve grown up into an incredible woman. You made it work on your own terms. You finished school. You have the job you always set out to do, the job you were always meant to do. And eight years looks deliciously good on you. So, trust me. Sexy and smart are the perfect combination.”

  * * *

  “Your home is going to be incredible,” Jenny said as she turned in a circle in the large hallway.

  He hated the way she said “your.” Like she didn’t realize he wanted it to be “theirs.” Like the thought was so foreign that she didn’t even consider it while he stood there in awe of the way she looked standing there. In what he hoped would become “their” home.

  Every now and then he was reminded that they were still at opposite ends of the spectrum—he was ready to dive in and she still couldn’t trust him. But every time they spent time together, like now, he had another chance to prove to her that he could be trusted again.

  Nik had deliberately kept the conversation light for the rest of dinner. He’d loved listening to Jenny’s stories from Ottawa. Like how many times she’d fallen the first time she’d skated on the frozen Rideau Canal. Or how she would have driven back to Ottawa that very night if she could just to get her hands on a beaver tail. When she’d gone to the restroom, he’d added a note to his phone to try to get a box of the fried dough pastries shipped to her.

  He hadn’t been lying when he’d said she was sexy and smart. She was the perfect blend of Maisey and Ellen when it came to the kids in her care. While she’d never given away specific details of the children’s cases, she’d shared some of the problems she’d had to work through and how she’d drawn on her own experiences in the system. When he’d touched on her father, she’d told him very little and quickly moved on from what was obviously a sore point.

  Somewhere along the way, she’d become a competent and capable woman. One who didn’t need him, but one he hoped would want him.

  “Come on,” he said, leading her up the two flights of stairs. “We might as well start at the top and work our way down.” Plus, the top floor was all her. All the ideas she used to talk about on rainy Sunday afternoons as they’d lain in bed after making love. He’d listened. Her dreams had become his because he couldn’t even begin to design a home of his own, having never really had one. She’d described her ideas so clearly that when he’d met with the architect to work on his house, the only ideas that he had even considered were hers.

  “Holy crap, Nik,” she said when they reached the top. “Is this all a master suite?” she asked, taking in the newly plastered walls.

  He wondered if she could see past the miter saw and stack of two-by-fours and the plastic sheets to her vision.

  Nik nodded and placed his hand on the small of her back. “Over on that side of the hallway are a sitting room, walk-in closets, and a small office.” He could picture her seated at the slim white desk that was going to face out over the rooftops of neighboring homes. “But you’re going to want to see this,” he said, leading her to the bathroom.

  Jenny stepped inside, and he leaned against the doorframe. There was no flooring, but the giant tub was in place. The showers were missing the doors, but there were two of them, just like she’d always imagined. She ran her fingers over the glass wall, along the edge of the tub, along the counter of the sinks. He saw her shoulders lift and sag before she turned to look at him. “Everything is just like we . . . like we always talked about.”

  Nik nodded and smiled. “All of this was designed well in advance of seeing you, but when I sat down with the architect to figure out exactly what it was I wanted, yours was the only vision I could come up with.”

  She looked down
at the floor, which was currently covered in a giant plastic sheet. “Underfloor heating?” she asked.

  “Obviously.” He grinned. It was one of the things they’d agreed on. Hardwood and tiled floors in winter in Canada were miserable.

  “Tile?”

  “Imported natural slate. The kind that turns black when you get it wet.”

  “It’s going to be beautiful, Nik,” she said quietly.

  He walked over toward her and placed his hands on either said of her face. “Would it freak you out if I told you that every day I worked up here, even before I knew you were back in Toronto, I imagined what it would be like if you lived here too? One day I was standing at the top of the stairs, and I swear to the Creator that I could see you running up them toward me. I’d imagine you soaking in the tub with a million and one candles like you always said you would one day. Or I would imagine the two of us getting ready for our day, talking to one another as we showered.”

  “Nik,” she whispered and leaned into the palm of his hand. Her eyes shone with tears.

  “I’m building our house for us, and I don’t even know if you’ll ever move in. But like the house, we’ve had to strip back what we were to the bones of it, and now we get to decide what we want to do with that foundation.”

  Jenny swallowed hard.

  It felt monumental, her standing here, with him, in the luxurious room they’d talked about so often while living with nothing. But their imaginations, and their hope for something better, had led them to design this. Surely she could see what they could be, what they were capable of amongst the mess he’d created. Hopefully she could remember they were capable of imagining the life they wanted and going out to get it. Fuck, they’d managed to do that on their own. Imagine what they could be together.

  But it had to be her move.

  And then it all happened in slow motion. She lifted to her toes.

  He didn’t blink, didn’t want to miss a fraction of a second.

  Her eyes never left his as she slid her hands around his waist and pressed her lips to his. He could taste the tiramisu she’d had for dessert mingling with the sweet taste of her. And it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

  Nik slid one hand to the back of her neck. The other he ran down her spine, familiarizing himself with the shape of her until his hand came to rest on her ass that was high, and firm, and perfect for him to grip onto when she was underneath him.

  He let himself sink into the kiss. There was no timeline, no agenda, no need to speed things along. It was perfect, and he wanted nothing more than for the moment last. He pulled her close and swallowed the moan as she allowed one hand to sink beneath the waistband of his jeans.

  Nik trailed a line of kisses along her jaw and down her neck, savoring the sweet scent of jasmine, which was new, and the softness of her skin, which wasn’t. There was so much they needed to relearn. It was an opportunity to get to know each other all over again. To see how tastes had changed, to see how preferences had grown. But at the base of it would be this, the feelings they had for each other.

  “Jenny,” he murmured against her skin. He felt her hands before he realized what she was doing. First, one button of his shirt, then the next and the next until she tugged it out of his jeans.

  He stood up tall and let her look at him. He’d changed too. He wondered what she thought of the body that he worked hard to maintain, or whether she would like his tattoos. He wondered what she would think when she found out that they told the story of them.

  Her eyes ate him up, and he could feel himself getting hard under the weight of her stare.

  “What do you need, babe?” he asked, his voice rough. “You can have anything you want.” And he meant it. She could have anything she wanted from him.

  “I need you, Nik,” she said, looking up at him. “Nothing else.”

  “Come with me,” he said. “One day there will be a huge bed right there that I’ll devour you on.” He pointed to the area that would become the bedroom and took her hand. “But for now . . .” Nik led her down the stairs, trying to stop the frantic racing of his heart. She was here, in his home, and he was about to get to hold her, touch her, bury himself deep inside her, and he could barely keep his shit together.

  Silently, he let them into the apartment he’d been living in. It suddenly didn’t seem enough compared to the luxury she deserved. “It needs some work,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as they walked through the living room, where his ultramodern gray sofa clashed with the jade green walls. He placed a hand on her back and led her to his bedroom. The walls were a faded yellow, but the king-size bed with Egyptian cotton sheets was all his.

  “Nik,” Jenny said, placing her hand on his cheek. “The first time you made love to me, it was on a second-hand rug in a rented apartment, and it was the most perfect thing ever. The place doesn’t matter. It never has. It’s always been about us, the sum of us together. What we make. That’s all that matters. Remind me what it was like between us, Nik.”

  At her words, he lost the feelings of doubt and slid his hands around her back. Tugging on the zipper, he slowly opened her dress and nudged the sleeves off her shoulders.

  She wiggled her arms out and let the dress slither to the floor.

  Fuck. Scraps of black lace designed to drive him wild. And heels that he both loved and couldn’t wait to remove. “You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he said, allowing his hands to slide up her ribs and cup her breasts, kneading them as Jenny’s head rolled back on a gasp. He took the opportunity to skim his lips along her neck.

  Jenny’s hands slid inside his opened shirt. She ran the tips of her fingers over his abs in a move that both tickled and turned his dick to granite. But he wasn’t going to be rushed, not tonight. There would be time for fast later. Now was the chance to savor, to relearn every curve of her body, to let her do whatever she wanted to his.

  When she began to open his belt, Nik took a deep breath. The most basic urge to be inside her battled with his need to love her thoroughly. When she undid his jeans, his cock doubled down, demanding release. He kicked off his shoes and removed the rest of his clothes, every part of him naked and available to her.

  He slipped his arms around her and unclasped her bra. He kissed his way along her shoulder, nudging the strap down her arm so she could let it drop to the floor. Nik jumped when she placed her hands on his abs and placed her forehead to his chest.

  “I want this, but I’m scared, Nik. Of what this means,” she whispered.

  His heart squeezed at her words, and he wrapped his arms around her, loving the way her skin felt against his. “Talk to me,” he said.

  “You said in the restaurant you were worried you weren’t enough. Well, standing here with you like this, I worry that I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t once, and there have been models and actresses and I’m the latest in a line of—”

  “Don’t,” he said quietly while leading her to sit on the edge of the bed. The reason there had been so many was because none had stuck. None had been her, no matter how hard he’d tried to find her in somebody else.

  He knelt between her thighs because being on his knees as he poured his heart out to her seemed the most appropriate place to be. “Look at me, Jenny,” he said firmly and waited until her eyes met his. He’d give everything he had to take away the uncertainty he saw there. “I can’t take back what I’ve done, the way I’ve behaved, or erase my track record. But know this. I couldn’t replace you no matter how fucking hard I tried. I get that I don’t even really deserve you being here right now. I get that this might be more than we can handle. I get that there is a chance that we won’t figure this out. But you need to know that it isn’t you who wasn’t enough. It was me. It’s always been me. Because you are my everything, Jenny.”

  He sat back on his heels and ran his hands along her thighs, massaging the tense muscles beneath his fingers. As it had been since the first time they’d kissed, he needed her consent before he took it a step farther, no mat
ter how badly his dick throbbed.

  Jenny broke his stare and looked over her shoulder at his bed. Her indecision was tangible, and he’d give anything to know what was going on in her head. Then she leaned forward and slipped the shoe off one foot, then the other, before shifting back on the bed.

  “Kiss me, Nik,” she said gently. “Remind me.”

  And as he lowered himself to the bed, he thanked the Creator for bringing her back to him so he could do exactly that.

  * * *

  Nik’s lip crashed into hers with a force she wasn’t expecting. He wasn’t kissing her, he was devouring her, and she wasn’t certain that she be able to survive it. And even if she somehow could physically match him, could physically be enough, she knew her heart would struggle to make it through.

  She threaded her hands through his hair and held him close as he lowered himself over her, settling between her legs, one hand on her cheek, the other gripping her butt. Too shy back then to tell him, Jenny wasn’t certain that Nik knew just how much she liked it when he pinned her to the bed. His erection was pressed up against her, and it would be impossible for him to miss just how turned on and wet she already was for him despite her reservations.

  “Jenny,” Nik gasped, his lips still against hers. His eyes wide open and focused on her. “You feel so good, every inch of you. You want to be reminded just how good we were together? Then feel this. Feel how hard I am for you, listen to how breathless you make me, know that no matter how long tonight lasts, you own me.” He pressed himself into the very sweet spot between her thighs, and she arched her back in response. “Tell me you want me to make love to you. Tell me you want this, Jenny, because I want you more than I want my next breath.”

  She looked down between the two of them and saw the glistening head of his erection sliding against her underwear. God, how long had it been since she’d been this turned on? Nik followed her gaze and then looked straight into her eyes.