by Love, Kristy
“Shut up,” I grumbled. “It wasn’t that I didn’t date; there just wasn’t anyone worthy of bringing home.”
“Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that so you forget how gone you are for me.” He grinned. “Back to my hotel to talk?”
“Let’s go.” The heat low in my belly caused my muscles to tighten, and I squeezed my thighs together. I wasn’t really interested in talking, not after the way he’d stroked my skin all evening. He seemed set on it, though. It was probably for the best that we clear the air. Even if I ached for his touch.
Chapter 26
Nash
The ride from Bianca’s parents’ house to the hotel was tense and filled with silence. I held her hand the whole way, needing the connection between us. There were so many possibilities of how this evening could end. She could storm away, she could want to try, she could end up in my bed. We could argue. This thing could be over before it even got started. That wasn’t an option for me. I couldn’t let her walk away again.
In my hotel room, we stood there, staring at each other. She twisted her fingers in front of her. I rubbed my hand against my chin.
“Do you…” I started, then cleared my throat. “Do you want a drink or something?”
“Water,” she said. I grabbed two bottles from the mini fridge as she perched on the edge of a couch cushion. I handed one to her, and she picked at the label.
The contrast from how familiar we were with each other at her parents’ house to now was striking. I touched her, rubbed her leg, shared secret smiles with her. She nudged my foot, even rubbed my leg with her foot at one point, held my hand under the table. I held the back of my neck, wishing this weren’t as awkward. “I have some things to say. They aren’t easy things, but they’re important. It needs to happen for us to move forward, for you to understand.”
Bianca shifted on the couch, her thumbnail still picking at a corner of the label. “I’m listening.”
Swallowing, I attempted to gather my courage. “When I…ended things with you before? I wasn’t entirely truthful.”
Bianca tilted her head slightly. “Okay,” she said, dragging the word out.
“I didn’t really want to end it. I didn’t want to break up with you, but I didn’t see a way around it.”
“You found someone else. What did you expect? To keep me back here and continue on with someone else while out there?” She lifted an eyebrow, questioning my sanity.
I took a deep breath, fortifying myself, preparing myself for whatever her reaction may be. “There wasn’t anyone else, Bee,” I said, knotting my fingers together and dropping my head down to look at the floor. I didn’t want to see her eyes or the emotions playing out across her face. “I lied. I didn’t have time to text you, let alone start seeing someone else.”
Silence. Silence so tense it could be cut with a knife. A pin could drop and sound like a lion’s roar. I pressed my lips together to keep from looking at her. She needed a private moment, or as private as she could get, to process this. I wondered if she’d be angry, yell at me. Maybe she’d storm away from me one last time. Finally, she stood up and paced away, then came back. “You lied? You lied about something like that?” Her eyes were wide, her face reddening.
“I didn’t see another way to end things. I saw you wasting your life, Bee, and I didn’t know what to do. The only thing I was trying to do by ending it and staying away was what was best for you.” I wished I could get the words to explain to her that I wanted what was best for her—always. I’d had to make a tough call, a call I’d never wanted to make, but it seemed the best option at the time. Maybe there was a better way, a way that would have done less damage, but I was young and inexperienced. The options I had in front of me at the time were limited, so I went with what would ensure her not wasting away, giving up her life for my dream.
She laughed bitterly. “You saw no other way? Oh, poor stupid Bianca. She’s so desperate and clingy that you must create a fictional girlfriend to detach yourself from her.”
I stood, feeling at a disadvantage. “That’s not what happened.”
She glared at me, chest heaving, fists clenching. “Then what happened?”
“I didn’t see a way to end things. I knew I needed to, but I couldn’t see a way to get you to accept it, to stop waiting around for me.”
Bianca opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again. “And the truth wasn’t good enough?” She blinked rapidly. “You let me think I wasn’t enough for you. That I wasn’t good enough for you,” she said, her voice cracking. “It was my worst fears realized. I wasn’t enough for…for my birth parents. And shortly after discovering that, I wasn’t good enough for you anymore.” The tears she fought back slid free and she swiped them away angrily. “I wasn’t good enough.”
“Bee, please.” I stepped closer to her, reaching out for her, wanting to wrap myself around her to comfort her. She stopped me, holding up her hands and shaking her head.
“And you knew. You knew I struggled with that after I found out the truth. You knew, and you played on those insecurities to suit your purposes.” More tears, more angry wiping of her cheeks, and steps away from me. It appeared she was folding in on herself, curling around herself to protect herself from more hurt.
Cautiously, I moved closer. “I’m sorry. I know I keep saying that, but I can’t express enough how sorry I am. I didn’t think of it that way. I was thinking of the bigger picture.”
Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing at me. “The bigger picture? What fucking bigger picture?”
“I did what I had to do, Bianca, for both of us. I wasn’t around. I was constantly moving from city to city, doing interviews, meeting record label executives, and surviving on barely any sleep. I didn’t have time to give you. You deserved better than what I offer.”
Her cheeks stained with tears and her eyes red and puffy, she shook her head. “You could have talked to me, Nash. Don’t you think I would have understood? You had to give it your all, this was a chance, and you had to grasp it and run with it. I got it then, and I get it now.”
“That wasn’t it. Well, not all of it.” I raked a hand through my hair. “I had to take the chance. Felix was relying on the band—on me. His family was in a really shitty financial situation, and he hoped if we were able to start pulling in money, he could help them. His mom was having trouble making it, and she still had his younger siblings to worry about. I couldn’t screw it up for him.” I sighed. “And, truthfully, me either. I needed to make it for me. This was my chance, and I had to try. I knew there’d never be another golden opportunity like that. Felix and I could have worked the smaller clubs for years and tried to make a go of it that way, but this seemed like a fast track.”
“And it was. You’re successful. I’m so proud of you.” Even though I was breaking her heart—again—she was still supportive of me. I smiled and edged closer to her.
“But as soon as I left, you put your life on hold. You stopped hanging out with friends, even Peyton. You waited by that damned phone for anything from me. A phone call, a text, anything I could throw your way.” I shook my head. “You skipped Homecoming to wait for a phone call from me. You cancelled plans to go see a movie you were anxious to see because I might have some time. Not to mention all the other things you’d skipped out on. A party with Peyton, a weekend trip with your parents. You stopped living, Bee. I was out there, living my dreams, making them a reality, and you stopped. You stopped living, and I hated it. I didn’t want to see you waste away.”
“You should have talked to me!” Her eyes flashed with anger.
“I tried. I kept telling you to go out, to live, but you sat by that phone like it was your lifeline. It killed me. I felt like I was out there, finally getting to really live and you were at home withering away to nothing. I hated myself for it. I felt selfish for forcing that life on you. The only way to make sure we both had some kind of shot at life was to end it, to force you to stop waiting for me.” I pleaded with my eyes, be
gging her to understand and to not be mad over the decisions I’d made. “I left so I wouldn’t have regrets. I didn’t want you waiting for me all the time to be something you regretted.”
She sniffled. “You chose a lie, Nash. You could have told me the truth!”
“Who pays for your apartment with Peyton?” I asked.
Bianca looked at me, confusion written on her face. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“Just answer the question.”
“I do.”
“What about your parents? Do you help them out at all?”
She brushed a tear from her cheek. My line of questioning stopped her tears momentarily. “Of course. I get paid well—very well. They had a little more of their mortgage left, so I paid it off for them with my first big celebrity client.”
“I’m sure you still donate your clothes once a year.” She’d done that as a teenager. She’d gone through her clothes and gotten rid of the things she didn’t like much anymore or didn’t quite fit in anymore. There were always people who were more deserving out there, people who had nothing, and she wanted to do her bit to make their lives easier. The clothes she donated weren’t the typical stuff people cast off. These were still in good condition because Bianca took impeccable care of everything.
“Absolutely. And I volunteer when I can at the homeless shelter. Not as much as I want to because my schedule is stupid busy, but I do when I can. I really don’t see what this has to do with our discussion.”
“Don’t you see, Bee? You take care of everyone. That’s what you do. You pay for the rent in the apartment you share with Peyton. I’m sure it’s to help her out. Your parents’ mortgage, the donating, the volunteering. You are a nurturer, a carer. If I’d told you that I needed space to work on my career, you would have stuck by my side regardless. I couldn’t deal with it if you stopped living.”
“I wouldn’t have stopped living. I would have still had you.”
“You wouldn’t have had me though. You’d have sporadic texts and phone calls, a boyfriend who couldn’t give you any attention. And a friend you pined for and wanted more with. I wanted you to enjoy your senior year. Dances, dates, hanging out with friends, parties. I couldn’t be there for it, but that didn’t mean you had to miss out.”
“You should have given me a choice.”
“You would have picked me. And we both know it.”
Her chin wobbled, and she bit her lip. “I would always choose you.”
I finally closed the distance between us and held her in my arms. She fisted her hands in the back of my shirt, clinging to me. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. “I chose you for you, Bee. I didn’t want to hold you back. There was probably a better way for me to go about it, but I was seventeen and stupid. I’d never had to deal with all of that before. I let you down and, again, I’m sorry. I’d do it differently if I could, but I can’t change the past.”
She tipped her head back, gazing up at me. All her walls were down, and the vulnerability shone in her eyes. “Don’t leave me again.”
I stroked a tear from her cheek and smiled down at her. “I’m choosing you this time, all of you. No walking away, just us. Forever.”
Her lips spread into a glorious smile and her eyes sparkled. Again, she pushed up on her toes and kissed me. The world faded around us as I soaked in the feel of her. Tears flavored her lips. She was aggressive, pressing against me so hard I had to take a step back to steady myself. “Nash,” she whimpered between kisses.
“What, Bee?” I asked. Her response was to move closer. Her heart pounded against my chest, and her hands grabbed my hair.
“I need you. I’ve needed you for so long.”
I grinned, knowing exactly what she needed because I needed it too. I scooped down and grabbed her ass, lifting her off the floor. She wound her legs around me, squeezing. Her skirt moved up her legs, and I could feel the heat of her through her thin underwear. I groaned, wanting desperately to test just how warm and wet she was.
Carrying her, I went to my hotel bed and dropped her down onto it. I reached back and stripped my shirt off before moving on top of her.
She held my face in her hands, looking intently into my eyes. I felt stripped bare like she could see my every thought and emotion. “I love you, Nathan James. I’ve never stopped loving you. Not once in the last eight years.”
“I love you, too.” I rubbed my nose along hers. “I’m sorry it took me so long to make everything right, to make you mine again.”
She giggled. “Am I yours again?”
“After tonight, you’re mine.” I sealed my promise by crashing our lips together. Her hands dropped down and moved over my sides, back, and abs, making greedy hungry noises. They were possibly the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard. I yanked at her shirt, sending the buttons flying across the room.
“That shirt was expensive!” she protested.
“I’ll buy you another one.” I ran my palm flat over her chest, over the swell of her breasts, down her rounded belly. Her muscles twitched slightly every time I stroked my fingers over her. “Ticklish?”
“Yes,” she responded, then brought our lips back together, kissing me like I was her last meal and she intended to devour every morsel. I moved my hand up until I could cup her breast with only her bra separating our flesh. She rolled to her side, throwing her leg over my side. Her body lined up with mine as she pressed her hips forward, needing the friction.
I reached behind her, feeling the smoothness of her back and the shiver my touch sent over her body. A side of my lips kicked up. Unhooking her bra was easy work, and I tossed it somewhere over my shoulder. My hand fell down, running my rough palm over her nipple. She moaned loudly, arching her back to give my hand better access.
“Is this what you want?” I asked, pinching it slightly between my fingers. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes,” she hissed. Brushing her hair off her neck, I bent down and sucked on her neck. She moaned and pressed harder against me, her fingernails digging into my shoulder.
“I love your body, Bee. You are so goddamn sexy, I can barely see straight.”
She didn’t respond, just pressed herself against my erection. It was my turn to hiss out a breath. If she felt this good still partially clothed, how would she feel when I got her totally naked? I rolled her onto her back to give me better access to all the places I wanted to visit. One hand continued giving love to her breasts while I ran the other up the inside of one of her thighs. Her whole body trembled, and her breath stuttered out. I continued my light caresses on her thighs, touching one then switching to the other, never touching her where she really wanted.
I leaned down and flicked my tongue across her nipple. She gasped and buried a hand in my hair. Again, I grinned, then took her nipple into my mouth, tasting her. Her skin was a salty sweet mixture that thoroughly intoxicated me. Her hips moved in their own motion, seeking contact, friction, something to ease the ache she was feeling. I loved having her like this, trembling and waiting for me. It was a heady mix of power and pleasure, and I wanted to draw it out as long as I could.
Being with her again felt like a dream. After all these years, I’d remembered the one night we’d had and wished I could go back and savor her for a little longer. I would have kissed her more, touched her longer, and slowed everything down. I would have memorized the way her breath hitched when I touched her or the way she clung to me when something felt amazing. The noises she made would have been committed to my internal playlist, one I could play on repeat every time I missed her.
But mostly, I would have remembered the way she felt around me, gripping me, and holding me close to her body both inside and out. My first experience with sex had been the best, by far. Not because it was my introduction to sex, but because with her, it was absolutely everything. The emotions and the physical sensations had merged together to create an almost out-of-body experience. If I’d known that one night would have to last me for ove
r eight years, I would have made it take all night. Hell, I wouldn’t have let her leave the bed.
“Nash, please,” she begged. I kissed from one breast to the other and traced my fingers higher, finally touching her panties. She pressed her head against the mattress, her eyes fluttering closed.
“You want me to touch you?” I teased. I moved my fingers over the dampness of her panties, still not giving her the touch she really wanted.
“Yes.” She seemed to be reduced to one word.
“It seems someone is very ready.” She nodded, not opening her eyes. I pushed the thin fabric away and toyed with her a bit more before I slid one finger inside her. A strangled cry erupted from her throat as her hips bucked off the bed. “Very eager.” I dropped my mouth to hers, tasting her cries of pleasure. They were almost as sweet as her skin had been. These were flavored with desperation and need. I licked my tongue across her lips, sliding another finger inside her, and she trembled, moaning loudly. Her face was flushed, and it crept down her chest. Her lips were plump from my kisses. There was no way I could resist the call of her body, so I went back to licking and sucking her nipples.
She was so wet and so ready for me that my head spun. How was this reality? Just a few days ago, she acted like she hated me, that she wanted nothing to do with me. Now, she was in my bed panting and writhing against me. I didn’t want to wake up if this was a dream. If I did and she wasn’t tucked against me, then it was a nightmare I couldn’t bear to live with anymore.
“Please, Nash. Please,” she choked out.
“What do you want, baby?”
“You. Inside me.”
“I’m not sure if you’re ready.” I pulled my hand away, and she groaned in frustration. Toying with her, teasing her, was its own kind of aphrodisiac. Her responses drove my own desire higher, making me painfully hard, but I ignored it. I’d wanted this for far too long to rush it. If we played with each other for the rest of the night without actually having sex, it’d still be one of the best nights of my life.
