The Nice Boxset

by Jasinda Wilder

  “Guess I’ll play it, then.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “So, yeah. This is called ‘Falling Into You,’ and it’s about Nell here. It is kind of a love song, but don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation as a badass to uphold, after all.” The crowd laughs and cheers, encouraging him.

  He starts the melody on his guitar, a complicated arrangement of picking and strumming. The tune is more complex now, but I recognize the underlying theme from what I heard on the roof. Then he sings, and he locks eyes with me, and I realize he’s singing this to me, only to me. We might be in front of a crowd of a hundred or so people, but we’re completely alone.

  “All my life it seems

  I’ve been falling,

  Failing,

  Flailing,

  Barely keeping my head above water.

  And then one day

  I saw you

  Standing beneath a spreading tree,

  Refusing to weep.

  But even then I saw

  The weight of pain hiding in your eyes,

  And I wished then,

  There beneath that tree,

  To take it all away.

  But I had no words to heal you.

  I had no words to heal myself.

  And now that Fate has intervened,

  Conspired to draw us together,

  Despite the years between us,

  Despite the weight of pain

  Behind both our eyes,

  Despite the ghosts trailing all around us

  Like a fog of haunting souls,

  I’m still trying to find the words to heal you,

  To take your pain and make it all my own

  So your beautiful eyes can smile,

  So you can be at peace.

  And now that Fate has intervened,

  Conspired to draw us together,

  I can’t resist the lure of your eyes,

  The temptation of your beauty,

  The siren song of your voice

  Whispering my name

  In the dark comfort between my sheets.

  I can’t resist you, baby,

  Because I’m falling still,

  I’m falling into you.”

  By the time he finishes the song, I’m in tears. Good tears, again. The happy, sappy kind. I completely forget that we’re onstage. I leap off my stool and crush myself between his legs, his guitar hard between us, and kiss him deeply. He tangles his hand in my hair at my nape, kissing me back until the crowd begins to catcall and cheer, drawing us back to the present.

  “I take it you liked it?” Colton asks, whispering in my ear.

  I can only nod and try to compose myself so we can do the next number together without losing it.

  We’re standing on the stoop of my apartment building, my arms around his neck. I’m on the second step, he’s on the ground, so I’m eye to eye with him, nibbling on his earlobe as he tries to convince me to just come back to his place with him instead of staying here.

  “Colton…this is my apartment, my home. I’m paying rent, a lot of rent, so I have to get some use out of it. You can come up with me, though.”

  “I have work in the morning. The guys are showing up at seven to finish the Hemi we’re rebuilding.”

  “And I have class at eight. We’ll just wake up early.” I frown, realizing he’s doing the thing where he avoids something that makes him uncomfortable but doesn’t want to let on. “What’s the real deal, here, Colton? Why don’t you want to stay at my place?”

  He shrugs, but then meets my eyes. “It’s just one of those things. After being homeless for as long as I was, it’s hard for me to sleep anywhere but my place. I don’t know how to explain it. I just…I like being at home. It’s not that I don’t like your place, or whatever. I just prefer mine.”

  “Can you try? For me? I want you in my bed.” I never really thought about it until now, but almost all of the time we’ve spent together has been at his place, or out.

  “You want me in your bed, huh?” He grins at me salaciously.

  I pull him closer against me. “Yes. And I mean that in every sense of the phrase.”

  “In that case, I might be able to try. For you.” He slides his palms down my back to crush my body against his, gripping my ass and lifting me.

  I bite his neck and then whisper in his ear, “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

  “I know it will be. Any time spent with you, anywhere, is worth it. Even if we don’t do anything but sleep, it’s worth it.”

  I unlock the door and lead him up the stairs, moving backward. “We’ll be doing a lot more than sleeping.”

  “Oh, yeah? Like what?” His voice is deep and dark and full of promise.

  “It might involve my mouth, and certain parts of your anatomy.”

  “I could get into that.”

  “You could get into me.”

  He doesn’t grin, but his eyes are smiling. “Oh, I’ll get into you. I think I’ll bend you over the couch and take you from behind.”

  “Is that so?” I ask.

  “It is.”

  We’re at my door. I twist the key in the lock and pull him after me into the darkened apartment. I don’t have time to bother with lights. He’s got the door locked again, and he’s tugging my shirt over my head, pushing my jeans and panties down, and then he’s somehow naked, like, instantly, and then his mouth is on mine, glorious and soft and demanding.

  His hands are everywhere, on my breasts, in my hair, stroking my folds, caressing my ass, brushing a thumb across my cheek and sweeping hair away from my mouth. I gasp as his fingers probe into my core and circle my clit, noticing distantly as he rips a condom open with his teeth and slides it on himself one-handed, spitting the wrapper onto the floor.

  “Ready?” he asks, his voice a rough demand.

  “Take me,” I whisper. “However you want.”

  I’m spun in place, and my breath catches, my heart hammering. Oh…shit. He wasn’t kidding. He’s moved us so I’m facing the arm of my couch from the side and he’s pushing me forward gently. His hands slide over my shoulders and twine our fingers, showing me how to brace my weight on the cushion. His toes nudge my feet apart, and I comply until I’m standing with my legs spread wide, bent over at the waist, ass high.

  “Oh, god…” I whimper.

  “I haven’t done anything yet, baby,” Colton growls.

  “I know,” I pant. “I was just saying your name.”

  He laughs, a low rumble in his chest, then slides one palm over my spine, under my ribs and cups one free-hanging breast in his huge hand. He pinches my nipple, thumbs it, tweaks it, rolls it, and I’m breathless already. Then his other hand slides down between my thighs to stroke my folds, and I’m lost. I arch my back and lift my ass to give him better access, hang my head as he swipes and circles me into climax.

  As I come, an initial shudder of ecstasy washing over me, I feel him nudge my entrance with the head of his shaft. I hold my breath, biting my lip, and then a second wave rollicks over me and he feels it, plunging in as the wave crests. I cry out as he drives home, burying himself to the hilt with a soft, satisfied grunt.

  “God, Nell. You’re fucking incredible. So beautiful. I love the way you lift your ass for me. I love the sounds you make when you come for me. I love your pale skin and strawberry blonde curls.” He strokes into me slowly, sliding deep every time he says the word “love.”

  I push back into his thrusts, crying out softly at each in-thrust, whimpering when he draws out. He continues this way, slow and gentle and rhythmic.

  It’s not how I want it, and he knows it. He wants me to beg for it. I’ll play his game. I turn to look at him over my shoulder, my hair curtaining to one side.

  “Harder, Colton.”

  His eyes go hooded, and he lifts his chin slightly, curling up his lip in a smirk. “You want it harder?”

  “Yeah, baby, I do.”

  “How hard?”

  “Really hard.”

  “B
eg me to fuck you harder, Nelly-baby.”

  I don’t recognize myself when I’m like this, lost in the moment. I like this woman, though, this shameless Nell who begs her man to fuck her. It’s a far cry from the innocent sixteen-year-old girl who shook all over in a Red Roof Inn as her first boyfriend touched her tentatively.

  I bite my lip, just to make him crazy, pull forward as he draws back, then slam my ass onto him, driving him deep, hard. “Fuck me, Colton. Fuck me hard. Fuck me deep. Spank me when you fuck me.”

  God, that was hot. I almost couldn’t get the words out. But it’s what I want, truly and madly. Him, all of him. I want him, Colton, as he is. Rough and raw and primal, gentle and loving and careful. I love what he does to me, how he makes me crazy, makes me want things I didn’t know I could ever want.

  Colton loses it. He grips my hips in both hands, widens his stance, and draws back until he’s almost out of me. I suck in a deep breath, anticipating the flesh-trembling drive of his hips.

  Instead, he sinks in as slowly as he can, more softly than I thought possible, a caress of his arousal within me. A tease. And then, because I’m not ready for it, he slams into me. I cry out, face contorting in pleasure. He pulls out slowly, slides in slowly, two and then three more times, gentle as a whisper.

  And then, when I open my mouth to speak, he crashes hard, so hard, and my words, my breath leaves me in a rush. I can’t even catch my breath, then, because he’s done toying with me. He’s driving into me, drilling me with savage power. My entire body is jarred forward with each thrust, and broken whimpers release from me at each one. The whimpers turn into yeses, and those turn into his name, chanted in the brutal rhythm of his hips. He jerks me back into him, pushes me away, and I barely register the first orgasm, so lost am I in the pleasure of the pain, the delicious slam of his body into mine, the way he fills me with each thrust, the way he seems to stretch me.

  And then he comes, growling and roaring, slamming into me, driving deep in the hardest thrust yet, almost too hard, but not. It can never be too hard. And then…oh, god, oh, shit, ohmigod, he’s back to the tender sliding, bent over me, kissing my spine, palming my ass, dipping into me in shallow thrusts that hit me in just the right place to make me completely come undone.

  I bury my face in the rough fibers of the couch and scream as I shatter, a million jagged bolts of lightning blasting through every cell of my body. He smacks my left ass-cheek as I scream, and the orgasm ruptures into a higher peak, and I’m rocked forward with a slow but powerful thrust into that perfect spot, timed with the spank of his palm. He pulls back, slaps my right cheek in time with another cresting wave and shallow thrust, and I’m sobbing with the intensity, driving back into him, collapsing forward and rocking back in uncontrolled spasms. Volcanic heat and electricity shred my body, earthquake shudders wracking me, all centered on my core, low in my belly, deep inside me.

  He strokes slowly then, milking my climax until he’s soft within me and I’m a limp puddle of sated woman. He pulls out of me, lifts me in his powerful arms, and carries me to my bed. He’s gone briefly and then back, cradling me against him.

  “I can’t believe you like it rough like that,” he says.

  “Why not?” I ask, tracing patterns on his skin, drifting my touch downward to take him in my hand, stroking him.

  “You just seem so innocent and delicate.”

  “You know I’m not either of those things, Colton.”

  “Yeah, I know that, but it’s how you seem.” He toys with my nipple, circling it with the pad of his index finger. “One minute you’re all classy and kind of aloof and beautiful and everything, and then you seem to just…let go, and something wild comes out of you. You turn into this…”

  “Shameless slut-beast?” I suggest.

  He snorts, but his finger turns my chin up so I’m looking at him. “Funny, but no. You’re anything but that, Nell. Never think about yourself like that.”

  “I don’t—I was joking.” Sort of, but I won’t admit to the deeper truth.

  He sees it anyway, damn him. “Nell.” His blue eyes sear me.

  I have to look away. “I just…it’s the same old thing, Colton. Part of me can’t get over the idea that this is wrong. You’re his older brother. I know, I know. He’s gone, and I have to get over it. We—this, with you and me—it’s not wrong. It’s not. But the stupid guilt is always there.”

  He doesn’t answer right away. “I understand, Nell. I do. Just…talk to me about that shit, okay? Don’t lock it away or push it down. I’ll understand.”

  I nod against his chest, then smile as I feel him begin to grow hard in my hand. I slide my fingers around him until he’s fluttering his hips into my touch, then slide astride him. He’s inside me, slipping in easily, perfectly. I’m sitting up on him, lifting with my thighs and sinking down. I’ve taken him by surprise, and that makes me giddy. He’s frozen for a few strokes, and then he takes me by the waist and moves with me.

  Then he freezes again. “We need…we gotta put one on, baby.” His gaze is strangely intense. “The last thing we need right now is a pregnancy.”

  I don’t slow in my rise and fall. “We’re good, honey. I’m on birth control.”

  “Since when?”

  I frown. “Since…always. I never stopped taking it after…what happened.” It’s an awkward moment. I bend over him and kiss him. “The point is, we’re fine. I want it like this, nothing between us.”

  He cradles my face in his palms and devours my mouth. “Thank god. I’ve wanted to feel you bare like this so bad.”

  “Me, too.”

  And then there’s no more space for words between our gasps and kisses and groans. We move together for an eternity in perfect sync, each motion, each breath mated to the other’s, until we dissolve together, coming undone together.

  When we’re tangled breathless and basking in the afterglow, I press my lips to his ear. “I love you, Colton.”

  “Don’t you forget it, baby.”

  I snort and glare at him.

  He kisses me softly. “Kidding, Nell. I love you. So much.”

  Chapter 13

  A Blue Cross

  Eight Weeks Later

  No.

  No.

  Hell, no. This isn’t happening. It isn’t. It can’t be. Not now.

  My right hand is flat over my mouth, and it’s all that’s holding in my panic. I’m sitting on the edge of the tub in my bathroom, naked but for a baby-doll T-shirt. Knees pressed together, feet bouncing. Head shaking side to side, eyes wide and hazy and shimmering and stinging.

  I look down at my left hand. I’m holding a white plastic stick between thumb and forefinger. A tiny square window in the plastic shows two blue lines in a cross.

  I don’t even bother packing a bag. I book the first flight back to Detroit, which leaves in three hours. Not enough time, but it’ll have to be.

  On the way out, I tape my only explanation to Colt on the front of my door: a note containing three words, and the test.

  As I ride the taxi to the airport, his words echo in my head, over and over: The last thing I want right now is a pregnancy.

  I’m back to where I started, emotionally: locked up tight, refusing to cry. Wanting to find some way to hurt, so I don’t have to feel the fear and the panic and the knowledge that this is the last thing he wanted.

  By the time I reach DTW, my lip is swollen from biting on it so hard.

  I nearly let out a sob when I remember how biting my lip drove him crazy.

  PART THREE

  Colton

  Chapter 14

  The Unborn Song

  Two Days Later

  I’m nearly rabid with worry by the time I’m able to leave the shop and catch a cab to Nell’s Tribeca apartment. It’s been two days, and I haven’t heard shit from her. No calls, no texts. She was supposed to come over after her Theory class, but she never showed. Phone goes straight to voicemail. Texts don’t get delivered. Her boss at the little dive bar
where she works a couple nights a week says she never showed up for her shift. I contacted her on FB Messenger, no answer. Finally, I leave Hector to lock up the shop, because I just can’t take it anymore.

  I toss a bill over the seat of the cab and don’t wait for change. I have to take a few deep breaths before I’m calm enough to unlock her door with the key she gave me.

  We just exchanged keys last week; I thought things were great.

  Up the stairs three at a time, nearly knocking over a little old lady in the process. There’s a piece of paper folded in half and taped to the door. Shit, no. Fuck, no. What is this?

  I rip the note off the door, and it’s oddly heavy for a piece of paper. There’s a plastic baggy inside the paper, and inside the bag is a pregnancy test. Oh, hell no.

  Oh, hell yes.

  Positive.

  And no Nell. I search her tiny apartment more than once, as if it’d reveal her hiding in a cupboard or something.

  Just the test in the stupid baggie, and three scrawled words: I’m so sorry.

  She fucking ran. I’m angry, I’m panicked. I’m so many things it’s all a jumble in my heart and head, and I can’t think straight. I’m on a plane suddenly, with no memory of having gone to the airport or buying a ticket or anything. I’m in a bad, bad place.

  Memories are surfacing, things I’ve never told anyone, ever, not even Nell, and I’ve told Nell pretty much every sordid detail of my fucked up life…except that.

  A couple long, brooding hours later, the plane has landed and I’m in a rental car—I don’t even know what kind—and flying far too fast north on I-75. I’ve shut down. I’m a blank, empty. No thoughts. Thoughts are dangerous. I can’t feel. All I can do is act, move, be.

  I have to find her.

  Fucking have to.