Never Stop Falling

by Ashley Drew

  Yup. This room was definitely made for sex.

  And it only adds to the awkwardness of our situation.

  Once we settle in, Nick leaves to grab a few necessities from the lodge store. He also mentions calling Riley, which makes me wonder how she’ll react to our little predicament. Regardless, she doesn’t have anything to worry about. Nick is the most loyal person on the planet.

  After a much needed hot shower, I sit on the bed, drying my wet hair with a towel while I contemplate calling Cooper to explain the situation. Then again, I can’t see that conversation going well, because what guy wants to hear about their fiancée spending the night with an attractive man in some romantic seaside hotel with one bed? Okay, so I should probably leave out the part about the hotel being romantic. And the part about the one bed. And definitely the part about Nick being attractive.

  Yeah, I think I’ll pass on the conversation. Besides, why give him any cause for concern when he clearly has so much work to worry over? Which I’m sure is the reason we haven’t spoken in a few days. It’s both irritating and relieving at the same time.

  The shrill of my phone rings faintly from inside my purse, and I freeze. I wonder if my decision to not tell Cooper about this has summoned the laws of attraction, completely screwing me and picking this exact time for him to finally get back to me. When I dig into my purse for my phone and see Mateo’s name on the caller ID, I relax and pick it up right away. Otherwise, he’ll throw a hissy fit if I miss another one of his calls.

  “Oh my God! For the love of all that is holy! You are alive! And to think that I almost called for the police and the coroner.”

  “I think we could do without the dramatics, wouldn’t you say, Mateo?”

  He chuckles gleefully. “Of course we could, doll, but what’s the fun in that?”

  I settle back against the pillows and shake my head. Mateo makes it his business to know everyone else’s business, and I’m no exception. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this late night phone call?”

  “I’m in a cab heading home from Lotus, thinking about how you need to get your pretty ass home because tonight wasn’t the same without you.”

  Ah, yes, my night out with Mateo, or Wild Wednesday as he likes to call it, and that it is because I often end up paying the price the next morning.

  “I miss you too, friend. So what’s new in the world of Mateo Castillo since I’ve been away? Any good drama at the bar lately?”

  “Oh no, no, no.” Mateo gasps, scolding me. “You do not get to deflect the conversation away from yourself. Tell me everything. Have you made peace with your father yet, or are you still being stubborn?”

  “Ugh,” I grumble and reluctantly tell him about the dinner disasters.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. Look, I’ve already said my piece about the situation. You can take it and run with it, or you can completely ignore it. Regardless of what happens at the end of this, the only thing that matters is your happiness. I just want you to be happy. I hope the whole trip hasn’t been too atrocious.”

  My face glows with a smile at Mateo’s tender words. He’s given me so much perspective on the situation with my dad and Jamie, making my decision to come out here a bit easier. I do miss him, and if I had to hurry back to New York, it would be for him.

  And duh, my fiancé, of course.

  “No,” I reassure him. “There’ve been good parts.” I tell him about reconnecting with old friends, trying to be vague without revealing too much or getting too specific. I don’t want to mention Nick by name because Mateo would make a big ass fuss over it, especially since I’ve told him a bit about our history. In fact, he’s the only one who knows. I’ve never even mentioned anything about Nick to Cooper.

  “Oh my God! You’ve been hanging out with the hot best friend, haven’t you?”

  Well, forget about not getting specific. “How do you know he’s hot? You don’t even know what he looks like.”

  “I will take your attempt at avoiding my question as a ‘yes, you have been hanging out with him.’ And the fact that you did not deny his hotness, I will also take that as a ‘yes.’ Corinne, honey, you know you can’t hide anything from me.”

  The door to the cottage swings open, catching me off guard, and Nick returns with a paper bag in hand.

  “That little store is great. Has everything,” he announces, and when he sees me on the phone, he silently apologizes with a shrug of his shoulders, and closes the door behind him softly. Unfortunately for me, it doesn’t make a difference. Mateo, with ears like a bat, has already heard the voice in the background. The male voice.

  “Corinne, who is that? Holy fuck, is that him! Where are you right now?”

  I shoot up from the bed, embarrassed and flustered, my cheeks warming at Mateo’s interrogation while I watch Nick removing items from the bag at the table. I don’t know why I’m reacting this way. It’s not like Nick can hear Mateo. Knowing that I need to end this conversation now, I quickly give Mateo a brief run-down of the day.

  “Well, well, well, Corinne. I didn’t think you had it in you,” he tells me, suggesting my intentions are anything but innocent.

  “Alright,” I say, signaling the end of this conversation as my eyes follow Nick to the bathroom, and he glances at me before closing the door behind him. “I’m beat, and it’s late, so I need to get to bed.”

  Mateo snickers. “I’m sure you do need to get to bed. But, doll, this conversation is not over.”

  “Hey, can you not—” I hesitate, not sure what to say, since Nick can probably hear everything I’m saying, even from behind the bathroom door. I wouldn’t want him to think it’s strange that I haven’t talked to Cooper.

  “I know, doll. I won’t,” Mateo answers, reading my mind. “Love you mucho, babe.”

  Nick retreats from the bathroom, crossing the room to the table. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were on the phone when I barged in. How’s Cooper doing?” I interpret Nick’s questions as, ‘Is your fiancé okay with you spending the night with me?’

  “Everything’s fine.” I give him a vague answer, not wanting to lie but not wanting him to know I haven’t spoken with Cooper in a few days either. Although, I’m not quite sure everything is fine, so that could be considered a lie in itself. Whatever. My body is tired. My mind is tired. My conscience is tired. And I don’t feel like thinking for the rest of the night. Thankfully, Nick is content with my answer.

  “I took the liberty of grabbing you a toothbrush at the store. I know how finicky you are with oral hygiene and going to bed without brushing your teeth.”

  I grin from ear to ear, unsure if it’s because I’ll have clean teeth and fresh breath, or because Nick actually remembered this little quirk about me. As little as it may be, the gesture leaves a huge smile across my face and a gigantic impression on my heart.

  “You know me too well,” I affirm, holding the toothbrush and toothpaste over my chest as I peer in the bag. “You wouldn’t happen to have a set of clean pajamas in there now, would you?” I’m only teasing, but a set of clean pajamas would make for a good night of sleep. Not to mention, a clean pair of underwear, but I dare not ask Nick about that.

  Nick grabs his backpack and unzips it, pulling out a black t-shirt. “No pajamas, but I have this shirt. It probably won’t fit you, but it’s clean and you can wear it, if you’d like.”

  “Thank you kindly, but just so you know, it better not fit me. I might cry if it actually did.” I throw him a wink as I grab the shirt, and strut to the bathroom to change.

  I peel the dirty tank top off my body and replace it with Nick’s shirt. My body practically swims in it, the hem falling halfway between my thighs and knees, my shorts disappearing beneath it. I contemplate removing them, but walking around in my underwear doesn’t seem like the most appropriate thing to do. Even though he said his shirt was clean, Nick’s scent is all over it—his aftershave, his juniper-scented body wash, all of him, and I don’t mind it at all. I grab a fistful around the
neckline, pull it up to my nose, and breathe it in. How I’ve missed that smell.

  Once I brush my teeth, I return to the room to find Nick lying across the small loveseat, his feet perched on top of the armrest on one end, while his head rests on a pillow on the other. He looks anything but comfortable, making me feel terrible about the sleeping arrangements. While he shifts himself to find a comfortable position, he stops when he sees me, and I notice his eyes traveling down to my bare legs beneath his shirt. My body heats at his gaze, and I’m relieved that I made the decision to leave my shorts on.

  Nick clears his throat, looks away, and smacks his pillow a few times, before resting his head down again.

  Now, what I’m about to do is probably the last thing I should do, and guilty conscience, before you even come out and start pestering me for this, all I’d like to say is kiss my ass. I walk to the couch as Nick’s eyes grow heavy with sleep, and yank the pillow from beneath his head. His sleepy eyes jerk open. “Jesus, Cori! What the hell?”

  With his pillow under my arm, I stride toward the bed and throw it on the opposite side near the headboard. “Get over here. You’re not sleeping on that thing. Don’t even think about arguing with me either. I don’t have the energy.” My command is stern, but only because I’m hiding that big ball of nerves that’s tangled in a thousand knots in my stomach.

  In the corner of my eye, Nick sits up slowly, bringing his feet to the floor, and rounds the other side of the bed, approaching with caution. Perhaps he thinks I may change my mind at any second. Trust me, I think about it. I really do. Especially when I can hear that little twat—yup, my guilty conscience—yapping in my ear, but like I would with a sappy Michael Bolton song, I tune it out. I pull back the covers from the bed and slip under them. Hesitating at first, Nick finally lies down on the other side, but instead of getting under the covers, he lies on top of them. It’s probably for the best, but it sort of bothers me.

  “I snore now. Big time,” Nick declares with a quirky grin. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

  “You’ve always snored.”

  He raises his eyebrow. “And you didn’t?”

  “Whatever. I mumble in my sleep, or so Cooper says,” I answer back, switching off the bedside lamp. “He says I sound possessed.”

  “Do I need to keep a crucifix and holy water handy?”

  “And the number for an exorcist. I win.”

  Nick switches off the lamp on his side, and except for the sliver of moonlight breaking through the curtains behind me, darkness engulfs the room. Once my eyes adjust, I can make out Nick’s silhouette as he lies on his pillow facing me. Good God. Even in the darkness, he’s perfect.

  “Alright, we’ll see who wins in the morning,” Nick teases.

  I smile at his challenge. “Well, your snoring can’t be any worse than Cooper’s. The first time we slept together, that was almost a deal breaker.” When Nick clears his throat, I suddenly regret my choice of words. “I mean that in the literal sense, like actual sleeping…with clothes on.” Correcting myself is proving to be a lost cause, since the words I need seem to be stuck in my throat along with my nerves.

  “You don’t need to explain, Cori. We’re adults here.”

  “I just don’t want you to think that I…I didn’t…Cooper was the first guy I…” As soon as I begin the thought, I trail off, not having a clue as to how I want to finish that sentence.

  “Dated?” Nick completes it. He raises a suggestive eyebrow, a bitter tone resonating through his question, making me wish I could turn into a turtle so I could pop my head back into my shell. Or I guess I could just throw the covers over my head.

  “Exactly. Dated.”

  Needless to say, it did take some time on my part for Cooper and me to actually start dating. For the longest time, I wasn’t sure if that was a part of me I was ready to give away.

  The sudden urge to explain myself to Nick comes over me, and I gnaw at the raw edges of my thumbnail. “After I moved out there, he was the first person I let in. The first person I actually wanted to get to know. His parents had recently gone through a bad divorce, so I think it was nice to be able to talk to someone who understood me.”

  I wish I could take back the words the moment they leave my mouth. Even the dark room can’t hide the obvious sting of my words, as evident in the hard line of Nick’s mouth, but I brush it aside. “We were actually friends long before we made anything official. Talk about persistence.” I giggle when I think of all the ways Cooper tried to win me over.

  Nick shifts onto his back and places his hands behind his head, staring straight up at the ceiling. He grows quiet, his expression falling flat, and unable to decipher it, I suddenly wish we weren’t having this conversation. “I suppose persistence pays off, doesn’t it? He ended up with a lot of your firsts.”

  I’m taken aback by the bitterness in Nick’s voice because it almost sounds like jealousy. Cooper may have been the first man I had sex with, but the countless firsts Nick and I have shared mean more to me than anything.

  Nick was my first friend. The first boy to hold my hand. The first person I shared every secret with. My first middle school dance. My first high school dance. The first boy I slept with—in the literal sense. My first kiss.

  “He certainly didn’t get the best first.”

  Nick continues his staring contest with the ceiling, and a yawn escapes his mouth. “And what might that be?”

  “My first kiss.”

  He closes his eyes, massaging them with his thumb and forefinger. “So who was it? Aiden? Chase?”

  Hesitating, I inhale deeply, allowing a long, relaxed breath to flow out of my lungs with the word, “You.”

  All it takes is that one word, and Nick instantly loses the staring contest with the ceiling, pulling his eyes away and planting them directly on me. “What?”

  I smile. “You were my first kiss, Nick. That night. As shitty as it ended up, everything, and I mean everything up until that point was...wonderful. I never shared anything like that with anyone—until you.” I feel my cheeks blush as my mind reels over the memories like an old silent film. Black and white images of Nick and me. Lips. Hands. Skin. Neck. Tongues. A slow, blissful shiver crawls up my spine and bites the nape of my neck.

  I can tell my revelation catches him off guard, his eyes searching for answers in mine. To no surprise, he’s wide awake now. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “You never asked. Other than your kiss with Gemma, we never talked about things like that. I figured the topic was bound to come up in conversation at some point, but you never asked, so I never brought it up.”

  He rolls his body toward me. His eyes make a trail along my face, tracing a continuous line from one eye to the other, down to my lips, and back until his eyes meet mine again. His gaze lingers, and it almost feels too intimate. But I don’t look away. My chest heaves in and out, as if my lungs have been starved of the sweet taste of air, my breathing heady but quiet.

  “I didn’t want to know,” Nick admits, unwavering. “I didn’t want to think about you kissing anyone. Whether it’d be Chase or Aiden, or any guy for that matter. It would have bothered me. It bothers me now.”

  Nick’s admission takes the breath right out of me because I am stunned. Speechless. Not because he said knowing I kissed someone else would have bothered him back then, but because knowing bothers him now.

  Now, the present; it’s the time between the past and the future, the only element of time that has any sort of certainty. And there isn’t the slightest hesitation in Nick’s confession. No apprehension whatsoever. Only blatant, honest certainty.

  “I have your first kiss,” Nick reaffirms, before his tender smile fades away. “Now, Cooper has your last.”

  We carry our conversation into the wee hours of dawn, reminiscing about the past and filling each other in on the missing years, without leaving room for any more admissions, for now. By the time the early signs of daylight begin to slowly seep through the cu
rtains, sleep finally creeps up on us, with the sound of the rolling waves outside lulling us into a peaceful slumber.

  It’s the best night of sleep I’ve had in over six years.

  Somewhere in between yesterday and this afternoon, I decided to stay in Santa Cruz, at least until I could sort things out with my dad. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m ready to throw in the towel.

  I have to hand it to myself—I put up a good fight. For six years, not once did I buckle. I threw all the punches. I won every round.

  But what I never realized was that I would never win the match. Because all along, while I thought I had been fighting with my dad, I realize now I had only been fighting with myself.

  And I’m exhausted.

  After Nick picked up the Jeep at the garage earlier this afternoon, we headed back to Santa Cruz, though neither one of us seemed very eager to return. Despite the circumstances that left us stranded there, I could have easily spent another day at the lodge, spending time with Nick and watching the tides roll in while they swept any unwanted thoughts away, and buried them into the deepest parts of the ocean.

  Then again, I can easily spend a day locked in solitary confinement so long as Nick is there, too, and I’d still be content.

  On the drive up, I tell Nick about my change of plans, and more importantly, my change of heart, and a pleased smile spreads across his face. A part of me wants to think that smile has more to do with me hanging around town longer, and possibly spending more time together, but I know that isn’t true. Besides, when he tells me he’s going to San Francisco to be with Riley for the weekend, I laugh to myself for even allowing my thoughts to wander there.

  When Nick drops me off at home, I thank him for always being supportive, for never trying to tell me what to do, in terms of my dad. He simply says that no one could ever tell me what to do, not even him. Even after all this time, he still knows me better than anyone else in this world, and although I shouldn’t be admitting this, he knows me better than Cooper ever will.