Catch Me

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Catch Me Page 33

by Claire Contreras


  Take my heart, you’re free to do whatever you want with it, including break it, rip it, shred it, and dislodge it from yours, but I’m going to give it to you anyway because I think you’ll take good care of it. I don’t think anybody has ever said that to another person because if they did they would be a little weird, but that’s pretty much what I’m going to say to Nick, just not in so many words. I didn’t need time away from him to know that I loved him, I knew it the moment he argued with me about whether or not you’re supposed to stop or gun it at a yellow light. I knew it the moment he let me eat the little chocolate they left for us at the hotel instead of asking me to share it with him. I knew it the day he took me to his parents’ house and let me see the way real, close-knit families live. And I knew it when I saw the pain in his eyes as he was recalling the day he took me to the hospital when Isaac found me on that bridge. I love him, I know I do, and I think he loves me too. And if he’s willing to massage my feet every night, I think I’ll keep him. How many things happen in the course of a life? How many broken promises and happily ever afters can you be promised before you realize that you’re supposed to take it upon yourself to find your own happiness?

  “Brooklyn?” Hendrix says, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

  I slap his hand away. “What?” I ask.

  “You’re not paying attention,” he mutters. “I was saying that I’m going to take Jay to talk to Dad, so we’ll see you later … unless you wanna come.”

  I shrug and make a face. “No, I’m fine. Have fun.”

  Jay shoots me a look as if he wants me to go with him.

  “Do you want me to go?” I ask him, feeling just a little bit bad about ditching him.

  “You think I’m good?” he asks, needing reassurance.

  “I think you’re better than good,” I say with a smile.

  Stepping out of the other side of the tent, I decide to look for the bathroom before I talk to Nick. I need to calm myself down and figure out what I want to tell him.

  “Hey, Bee,” Nina says, walking over to me in her green dress.

  “Hey, you look beautiful. It fits perfectly,” I comment.

  She smiles. “You too. Nick is looking … oh, forget it, he’s by the bathroom. He was looking for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sooo …” she says.

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “Are you going to tell me not to give him a chance?” I ask.

  She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Have you fucking seen him in that tux?”

  I can’t help it, I laugh. “You’ve been all woman power, we don’t need men. What happened?”

  “Uh … Nick in a tux happened,” Nina states obviously, then laughs. “I saw you guys dancing … I think I was wrong about him.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “You gathered that from one dance?”

  Nina hugs me. “Oh, Brooklyn, I gathered that from the look you gave each other at the club that night. I gathered that from the way you danced with him back then and from the way you spoke to each other at the studio when I went with you. It’s just … you. I dunno, you guys have that thing,” she says into my neck. “I want you to be happy. I’m just scared that if anything happens and you’re not, you’ll … you know.”

  “Spiral down? Become a drug addict … again?” I say lightheartedly.

  “Yes,” she replies sadly, squeezing my hand. “I still want to kick his ass for lying to you, but maybe he didn’t. I dunno. Shea seems to think he didn’t,” she adds with a shrug.

  I smile. “You spoke to Shea about it?”

  Nina narrows her eyes at me slightly but smiles. “Don’t judge me! Shea and Nick are together like twenty-four seven, and Shea is a shit liar so he was bound to spill the beans if there were any to spill. I really think Nick means well, Bee. Just be careful though.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I whisper, smiling at her. Thankful that she cares enough about me to be a little sleuth and check on things for me.

  Her brown eyes search mine before she kisses my cheek. “Good.”

  I take a breath and walk toward the bathrooms—they’re off to one side in the pool cabana. Nick is leaning against the wall watching me as I walk up, his eyes leaving no part of me uncovered. I cross my arms over my chest, rubbing my arms to keep from shivering, even though I’m not physically cold. Nick kicks himself off the wall and strides toward me as I stop in front of the bathroom door.

  “I’m going to-” I point at the bathroom.

  He nods, his eyes boring into mine, as he continues to walk toward me. I turn around and open the bathroom door, my heart wild against my chest when I feel his chest against my back. I gulp loudly as he pushes us both inside the bathroom and closes the door behind us. His lips land on the back of my neck, creating a flurry of heat in my core. In an instant my breath is coming in heavily, my lids lowering as I look at our reflection in the mirror: the top of his light brown hair slowly making its way from my neck to my shoulders. He presses the front of my body into the vanity and bites behind my neck.

  “I swear on all that is holy that if that fucking kid touches your ass one more time, I’m going to cut his hand off,” Nick says, his voice husky as he nips along my exposed shoulder.

  “Nick, stop,” I say breathily, knowing that the sound of his voice and the words coming out of it will be my undoing if I let him continue. “We haven’t talked about what happened.”

  “We’ll talk soon,” he says, his voice strained.

  I want to leave it at that, but the thought that he’s put those lips, MY lips, on another woman is driving me insane.

  “Did you sleep with her?” I ask, hoping I don’t need to specify. His mouth stills on my shoulder and he brings his eyes up to the mirror so they bore into mine.

  He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes. “The fact that you can even think to ask me that tells me that you don’t know how crazy I am about you.”

  I let out a relieved breath and nod, breathing heavily again when he places his lips on me, a little rougher this time. Smiling, I throw my head back so that he can kiss back up my neck.

  “You are … the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever seen, you know that?” he asks quietly as his hands pull up the silk skirt of my dress. He moves his hands up the back of my legs and palms my ass, rubbing slowly and biting my earlobe at the same time. “So beautiful,” he whispers, moving his hand to my front and sliding it into my thong. He slips a finger inside me and begins to draw circles over my clit, my knees buckling at the feel of it.

  “I want you out of this dress,” he says, his ocean eyes connecting with mine in the mirror. I can see the depth of his desire in them and it makes me bite my lip and move against his fingers, wanting it as much as he does. “So hot,” he groans as his eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lip as his fingers find my spot, rubbing until he makes me come. He licks his fingers and turns my body around kissing me deeply, his tongue traveling along my mouth as I wrap my arms and legs around him, gripping the top of his hair and pulling his face closer to me, as if it were possible for him to ever be close enough. He sets me down on the sink and shrugs his jacket off, throwing it on the floor beside us before untying his black bow tie and unbuttoning his top button, breathing harshly as if he can’t get enough air but looking at me like I’m more important.

  He unbuckles his belt, dropping his pants and boxers to his knees and rips my thong off without second thought, making me squirm on the vanity. He chuckles at the surprise on my face and dips his head to devour my mouth again, inserting his fingers inside me as he does it.

  “Why is he here with you, Brooklyn? Why is he touching you?” Nick asks, not able to let go of the fact that my date had his hand on my waist. His lips whisper soft kisses over my chest and he pulls down the shoulder-less part of my dress with his teeth, his tongue instantly swirling around my bare nipple.

  “Oh, Nick,” I breathe, throwing my head back when he thumbs over my clit again.

  “Why, Brooklyn? Did y
ou forget you were mine?” he asks, pulling my nipple into his mouth. “Do you need a reminder?”

  I nod frantically, begging for a reminder from him, and he chuckles darkly, his eyes burning into mine. He drops his hand and swiftly replaces the loss of his fingers with his hard cock, making me gasp loudly at the feel oh him. He holds onto my hips as he drives into me.

  “You’re mine, Brooklyn,” he says, his voice strained.

  “Yes,” I yelp when he begins to thrust harder, deeper.

  “Tell me, baby,” he demands in a whisper.

  “I’m yours, Nick. Yours,” I say, my voice hoarse as we look into each other’s eyes.

  He fucks me like he can’t let me forget that he’s the one inside of me. I wish I could tell him that he’s erased the memory of anyone else ever being inside me before him.

  He brings his lips to mine again, kissing me sweetly and slowing his pace to languid thrusts that don’t let me breathe because of how good it feels.

  “I don’t want to live without you anymore,” he says against my lips.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  “Am I forgiven?” he asks, pulling all the way out of me.

  “Yes,” I whisper, but in my mind I’m screaming it.

  He pushes all the way back in, making me arch my back and moan. “Awesome.”

  And that’s how it feels when he takes me to ecstasy again.

  We clean ourselves up and get dressed again. Nick shoves my underwear in his pocket and zips up his pants. I help him do his tie when he’s done buttoning up.

  “How did you learn how to do this?” he asks, his face perplexed as he watches me through the mirror.

  “I lost a bet with Hendrix once,” I respond as I finish the last loop and adjust his tie.

  Nick chuckles. “Smart move on his part.” He sighs when I lean up to place a small kiss on his throat, then pulls me to him and holds me tight.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your label?” I ask in a whisper against his chest.

  He drops his arms and steps away fro me, running a hand through his hair. His eyes stay on mine. “I wanted to, I just didn’t know when or how. It’s not even official yet, it’s just something I’m working on and hope to have in the future.”

  Nodding, I bring my hands down from around his neck and grab both sides of the lapels of his jacket. “Please don’t keep anything from me again,” I ask. I know it’s far-fetched. I know we’ll never know every single crevice of each other’s minds, and I don’t want to, but I’d like to think we can get close to it.

  “I promise you, Brooklyn. I will never keep anything from you again,” Nick says, running the pad of his thumb over my cheek. “I promise you that I’ll do anything in my power to make you smile every day, at least once a day.”

  That makes me smile. “Thank you,” I say. “I promise the same.”

  “You already do,” he says with a small smile, twirling the ends of my hair in his hand.

  “Your eyes match my dress,” I comment, smiling as I look into his eyes. They look more teal than aqua right now.

  He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head toward me as we walk out of the bathroom. “Isn’t that why you bought it?”

  Laughing, I roll my eyes. “No.”

  “Sure,” he says, not believing me, as he grabs my hand in his.

  “I’m serious,” I respond with a laugh.

  “Of course you are,” he replies cheekily.

  “Brooklyn!” the shrill of my mother’s voice interrupts us. I almost let go of Nick’s hand out of habit, so she won’t have any crap to talk about, but he squeezes it.

  “Hi, Mom,” I say, my voice monotone.

  “I’ve been looking for you, there’s someone I want you to meet,” she says, looking at me, then Nick with curiosity in her eyes. She doesn’t make a face, so I know she approves of him. I’m sure she’s trying to figure out what I’m doing with him since he doesn’t have the grungy look going and what he’s doing with me since obviously he’s much more good looking than I am. These are the things I decipher from the one surprised look she gives him.

  “This is Nick Wilde, Mom. Nick, this is my mom, Roxana,” I say as introduction.

  My mother’s eyebrows lift quickly. “Wilde. Michael and Mirielle’s son?”

  “Si,” Nick responds.

  My mom looks surprised again and I’m really beginning to enjoy the way her eyebrows move, but the rest of her face stays unfazed due to the Botox. Then, she smiles, not one of her fake smiles, but a real smile. “Pleased to meet you,” she says, extending her hand out, which Nick shakes.

  “Likewise.”

  “Let me introduce you to my niece, Nina. Have you met her?” my mother asks, never fucking failing to make my stomach plummet one way or the other.

  “Yes, I’ve met her a couple of times,” Nick says.

  “Oh,” my mother says, curiosity in her voice.

  I’m sure if she had enough nerves awake on her face she would be frowning at that. Clearly she doesn’t understand why he would be interested in me, her own daughter, and not Nina the runway model lookalike that she wishes was her daughter.

  Nick squeezes my hand again and runs his thumb over it soothingly. “I was just telling Brooklyn to get her things so that she could go home with me.”

  “Oh?” my mother comments, giving me a once over with a surprised look on her face.

  “Yeah, forever,” Nick says, his voice causing me to turn and look up at him. He’s looking at me as he speaks. “She seems to think that running off and leaving me heartbroken is a good idea, so I decided that I’m going to take her home with me every single day to remind her that my heart beats only for her. That my day starts with her running through my mind and ends with her sleeping in my arms.”

  I have no idea why he is telling my mother this, but instead of feeling embarrassed about it, it makes me smile wider than I ever have before.

  “Oh yeah?” I ask, completely forgetting that my mom is watching us.

  “Definitely,” he says, our bodies completely facing each other now, not giving the air around us room to flow inside our bubble.

  “What happens if I don’t agree to go home with you every day?” I ask, unable to wipe the smile off my face.

  “Then I guess you’ll have to start taking me home with you,” he says with a casual shrug.

  “No running,” I say.

  “Not unless you want me to keep catching you,” he murmurs, dipping his head to brush his lips against mine.

  Allie decided to drop the lawsuit against me after Drew went after her with evidence that she violated our contract by selling my microphones to studios without my consent. The lovely thing about Fab Enterprises is that I had everything copyrighted in the beginning, so in doing that she pretty much screwed herself. I’m glad to put it behind me now. I had to end up paying her for a couple of things, but nothing like what she was asking for. And what I did pay her, I did just because I wanted to be nice, despite her trying to steal something I created and included her in years later.

  Nick’s hand closes over mine as he drives down the hills of San Francisco. We’re on our way to his parents’ house for lunch today. Michael took it upon himself to invite my parents over and invited us as well. I wouldn’t have even known they were in town if it weren’t for Nick telling me about the whole thing. Then again, I’m supposed to be in New York right now. I only flew in for the weekend because Nick and I hadn’t seen each other since last week. Between Harmon and my microphones and Nick flying around to finish up Shea’s album, which he’s only putting finishing touches on, it’s been impossible to be in the same city.

  Nick holds my hand the entire time on the car ride over to his parents’ house, even as we argue because he wants to listen to The Doors and I want to listen to John Mayer. He wants to ride with the windows down to enjoy the windy day; I wanted the windows up so that my hair didn’t frizz. He wanted the air conditioning turned all the way up; I wanted it lowered from non-glacial te
mperatures. Through all of this, he holds my hand, and I wear a smile on my face, because I haven’t had this much fun arguing with somebody in my life.

  “We need to pick a city and stay there,” Nick says, squeezing my hand. “No more of this not seeing each other for a week thing.”

  “What? You can’t live without our bickering in your life?” I joke.

  Nick’s eyebrows rise as a grin spreads over his face. “Your bickering is one of the things I love most about you.”

  “Too bad that’s a one way street,” I say, laughing.

  “Oh, really?” he counters, letting go of my hand and pinching my side, which makes me scoot toward the door with a yelp.

  “Stop it!” I say, laughing. “At least we’ve been busy,” I say, going back to his previous statement when he holds my hand again.

  He lets go of my hand and tips my chin to look at him when we stop at a red light. “I’m never too busy for you, babe. Never.”

  The serious look on his face leaves no room for argument. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that he’s so available to me, so there. Anytime I need to talk to him about anything, he picks up my calls. If he’s busy in the studio, he sends me a text message asking me how I’m doing. Every morning, whoever wakes up first calls the other and every night we fall asleep with each other on the phone. It’s something that I cherish since I’ve never gotten all of this attention—ever. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with it. Not that I would ever complain.

 

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