by Jean Oram
But they’d paid their money. They wouldn’t just not come.
She pushed aside her growing nervousness and self-doubt before it could consume her like a ravenous hippo.
She paced her apartment, reminding herself that she could do this. She had fallback plans such as darts and pool if people got tired of the trivia. Snatching up her clipboard, she stuffed it in her shoulder bag. If she stayed home any longer she’d run the risk of overplanning and organize the fun and spontaneity out of the night.
Opening her apartment door she staggered backward. Todd was there, one arm braced against the door frame as he gave her a debonair smile. “A bit early to go, don’t you think?”
“What are you doing here?” Warmth spread through her and she embraced him in a grateful hug. “I thought you were stuck somewhere until tomorrow. Did you come back for me? I mean, to help?” She stood back, smoothing her hair, feeling even more nervous than she had before, and yet strangely relaxed, too. Weird.
What if he kissed her tonight?
Oh, man, her nerves were getting the best of her.
“I figured you might need someone to keep telling you it’s all going okay, so I made sure the last meeting was the most efficient on record, then caught the first jet out of there so I could be home tonight.”
She stared at him, a thrill racing through her at his thoughtfulness. “I’m not sure how I feel about you thinking you needed to come talk me down as I’m obviously holding it together just fine.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, obviously unconvinced. He slung an arm around her shoulders, directing her onto the street, and instead of keeping rigid, she let herself fit cozily against his side.
“Really, I’m fine.”
“You forgot your clipboard.”
She froze, panic hitting her like a tidal wave. She was certain she’d put it in her bag. The clipboard held all the night’s notes, schedules, participant names, and trivia. The show could not go on without it.
He poked her bag, where the board was peeking out. “See? Losing it. It’s right here.” He put his arm around her again.
She gave him a hip bump. “You’re a pain in the butt.”
“We’re a good team, you and I. I come up with the whimsy and you make sure we get there on time. Tonight’s your night. Bring on the color-coded lists, baby.”
“Don’t tease.”
He stopped walking. “It’s a compliment.”
She gave him a look.
“Really.” He brought her close again. He smelled wonderful.
“What are you wearing? Old Spice?”
“It’s a new one. Do you like it?”
“It smells like candy.”
He tightened his arm, bringing her into a momentary hug. “It made me think of you.”
Aw. Now didn’t that make the ol’ heart beat a little faster? It was going to be difficult not staring at him all night and dreaming of what their lives could be like. Together. In bed.
“And truly,” he whispered, his breath brushing her locks, “it’s a compliment.”
“If being boring and anal is a compliment now.”
“Everything in my life falls apart when you aren’t at my command center.”
She frowned at the mental image, not sure how it made her feel being his anal retentive side. She’d much rather be the fun side.
“You know that, right?” He glanced down at her.
She shook her head and walked slower. She didn’t want to reach Brew Babies quite yet.
“Well, you know that woman I was dating back in February?”
“What?” She fell out from under his arm with her sudden stop. “You were dating someone?” She pointed between them, horror sinking in deep and fast. “When we…”
“Kissed?” He looked shy. “Yeah.”
“What!”
“Didn’t I tell you about her?”
“You most certainly did not.” He always told her about this kind of stuff. Why had he held this back? “Oh, no! You were serious about each other?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “And I ruined it.” No wonder everything had gone so haywire. She’d known his reaction had seemed a bit extreme—the whole barely-talking thing. She grabbed his arms. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He gently shook her off. “It’s fine. Really.”
“What happened?”
“Well…”
“Tell me.”
“I told Tina.”
“Told her what?” That he had a thing for his BFF? No, because then he would have come to town and swept her off her feet like he did in her fantasies.
“About us kissing. And she got upset.”
Nicola winced, imagining being part of that conversation. Nobody in their right mind would be cool about The Woman in their boyfriend’s life—his BFF since forever—kissing him on Valentine’s Day. Speaking of which…
“Why weren’t you with her? It was Valentine’s Day.”
“She had to work. So after our little kiss she wanted me to give you some space, and with everything being…”
“Awkward. Weird.” Nicola turned to him, trying to reassure him. “And a total mistake for which I am so sorry.”
He cleared his throat, looking slightly pained. “Right. So, you thought it was a massive mistake and I—”
She grabbed the front of his jacket, forcing him to stop. Realizing she was clutching him like a desperate fool, she released him. “You didn’t think it was a mistake?” she asked carefully.
“Kisses like that are never a mistake.”
Her mind stopped moving.
He’d liked it.
He’d liked the kiss.
Kisses like that are never a mistake.
That was probably the best thing anyone had ever said to her.
He was still explaining, “She wanted me to give you some space so she and I could try and work on our thing.”
“And?”
“Everything fell apart.”
“I’m sorry, Todd. It sounds like you were pretty serious about each other.” Nicola hated to think that the one time he’d become close with someone she’d ruined it with an awesome, ill-timed kiss.
“No, I mean everything fell apart in my life. Without you there reminding me to be human, as well as a responsible adult, things began to slide. And I missed that. I rely on you more than I’d ever realized. We’re good together, Nic.”
Aw. He needed her. She allowed her shoulder to bump into his. He needed her boring planner side so his life didn’t fall apart. Not exactly sexy, but it was something. She gave him a happy one-armed hug.
He pulled her into a full hug, stopping them, holding her close while he inhaled her hair.
The embrace felt intimate, like a step beyond friendship. Not quite platonic, but not quite more, either.
A thought struck her and she tipped her head back, watching him. “You didn’t leave me, then?”
“What do you mean?”
“When we sorta stopped talking—that was about your ex, Tina? Not me? Not the kiss?”
“It was about the kiss.”
“I mean, not about you, me, the kiss. But about the girlfriend, you, me, the kiss.”
He raised a brow in confusion, but she already had the answer. Nicola rested her head against his chest again, listening to his heart. He hadn’t run away from her; he’d been trying to run toward the girlfriend who’d been ticked off that he’d been kissed by someone else. Someone close to him. Someone he liked having in his life and relied upon. Someone irreplaceable.
Best feeling ever.
And he wasn’t always a runner in a relationship. When he was loyal to someone, that person came first. So whoever this woman was, he’d tried. Tried his best and he hadn’t run. He’d stayed.
And for some reason that mattered. It mattered an awful lot.
* * *
“Are you going to our high school reunion?” Nicola asked Todd, closing the email she’d received from the organizer. Their class had had to skip the
five-year due to a fire, and were catching up with the idea now, two years later. But why hadn’t they asked her to help? She’d been on student council and had put together all sorts of stuff like that during their high school years. Plus, last week her first social night had gone off without a hitch. Everyone had loved the trivia and beer, and Moe was even talking about whether it was something he could offer in the bar every week. It was all working. Because of her.
And sure, she hadn’t really kept up with anyone from school, and had taken off as though her shoes were on fire after graduation, but that was hardly an excuse. She was good at this stuff.
Todd stretched out on her futon, holding her tablet as he flicked through the subscription service’s movie lineup. Nicola thought it was a great way to spend a Friday night.
“I dunno. Are you going?” he asked.
“I’ll go if you go. It’s only a few minutes from where you’re living now.” The fact that he’d returned to their old hometown after traveling the globe still surprised her for some reason.
“Everyone’s probably doing the same old thing and bragging about their stuff.” He yawned and stretched. “What about this one?” He turned the screen so she could see it. A romantic comedy. Twiggy jumped up on the futon to curl up beside him. Lucky dog.
“Sure.” Nicola took the popcorn out of the microwave and set it on the coffee table. Twiggy lifted his nose to check out the new smell, but stayed tucked at Todd’s side. “So, how did you turn out normal?”
“Who says I’m normal?” Todd replied.
“Me.”
“Then I guess the same way you did.”
“I had a scholarship. It was a little hard to brag about my spring break getaways when all I did was go back home and take care of my dad and babysit for the neighbors.” She settled beside him, arranging his legs so she could use them as a backrest.
“Somehow my parents’ money didn’t become my identity, I guess. Probably because I’m awesome.” He twisted to prop the tablet on the table. “Ready to start?”
She nodded. “I’ll go if you go?” It would be like watching reality TV, only with people she knew. She was curious, and maybe not for honorable reasons, but she wanted to see who was doing what. Who was making something of their life and who was living off their family’s grand bank accounts. They were only seven years out of high school, but it was long enough to have done something. “We can see who changed.”
“Nobody’s changed.”
“I have.”
“Have you?” he asked, eyebrows perked in question.
“Yeah.” She felt slightly offended. “Haven’t you noticed?” Footloose and fancy free traveling the world for two years, moving from small job to small job to pay for it all while living out of a backpack—not exactly something expected of her.
“You’re putting down roots in a small town, Nic. That’s totally you.”
“What? I’m not.”
“Dog.” He ruffled the fur on top of Twiggy’s head, his focus on the tablet. “Job—correction: career. A year lease on an apartment. You’re part of this place. No way you’re leaving. And you’re organizing everything you can get your hands on.” He stuffed popcorn in his mouth.
“I’m not.” Okay, she was. But it felt so right.
And yet, it wasn’t quite the woman she’d thought she was.
“You’re still my Nic.”
She was torn on what to focus on. The fact that he was calling her his or the fact that he thought she was locking herself into a life that wasn’t full of adventure like his.
“Well, you haven’t changed,” she said. He was still traveling for work, living the life of adventure. Never home, never in one place, one job, for too long.
“I know.” He smiled and started the movie, as Twiggy abandoned him for a piece of popcorn that fell on the floor. “Because people don’t change.”
She sighed, realizing he was probably right.
“If we go, promise you won’t let me say anything I’ll regret to the future CEOs of planet earth?” he whispered, referring to their old classmates as the movie started.
“I can’t make you do anything.” She shifted, trying to get comfortable against his legs. She grabbed a pillow to place against his shins, but he slung his arms around her loosely, pulling her against his chest instead so they were lying together, watching the movie like a couple would. Or two best friends.
“You have me wrapped around your little finger,” he whispered, lightly plunking a kiss on the top of her head. “Your wish is my command.”
“Funny.” She sighed contentedly. She rested her hand against his chest, using his shoulder as a pillow. It felt natural, intimate. Comfortable.
But it wasn’t their physical closeness causing the tingles that were taking over her body, or the friendly peck, it was his words, the idea of being in command of a uncommandable man. As his personal life organizer.
“Am I boring?” she asked.
“Never,” he replied, without looking away from the screen.
She ignored the movie, mulling over her thoughts. Maybe it was okay to be the Nicola he saw—to not have changed. He’d traveled the world with her, after all, and was snuggled up close to her right now. But she was putting down roots. And he wasn’t.
What was going to happen to them?
Amber and Scott’s justice of the peace had said love is forged in adversity and flourishes with understanding. It seemed as though she and Todd were going to face some difficulties as they went opposite ways—adversity. But would there be understanding? And more importantly, how was it going to work out with love complicating it all?
She turned to look at Todd. On so many levels they’d be awesome together as a couple. Their years of friendship had given them a strength and a familiarity most couples struggled to achieve. And most of all, she trusted him.
Plus, there was that whole sexy thing he had going on. But even though he acted like he wanted to kiss her, it didn’t mean he wanted to head toward a relationship.
Todd’s gaze drifted from the screen to her. “What?” he asked softly. He smelled like the candy aftershave. Yummy smell to go with his yummy build.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Why you don’t do relationships.”
“Who says I don’t?”
“Your history.”
“Maybe I just haven’t found the right person yet.”
“I don’t think she exists.”
He shifted as though uncomfortable.
“We both ran off to travel after college,” she said, not sure why she had.
“We ran away together,” he joked. “Should I put a ring on it?”
“Yeah, you totally owe me a ring,” she teased, wishing her mind wasn’t in the process of running off on fantastic, imagined wedding night scenarios where he pulled off her undergarments with agonizingly slow moves.
She cleared her throat. “It was a good adventure.”
And it had been. She’d acclimatized to hearing different languages, sleeping in new digs. Now she heard only English. Wore business attire five days a week, brown bagged her lunch. Had one bed. One apartment that was all hers for another few months.
Would she renew her lease? She’d assumed so even though the town she’d chosen had a meager choice of restaurants that all served pretty much the same kind of food. Her life was hardly an adventure and yet it still felt nice. It felt like hers.
“It might sound weird,” she said, shifting so she was facing him more than the movie, tossing more popcorn to the dog. “Just like right now I need to be here, own this for a bit. But I really needed that adventure. To see new places, to push outside my comfort zone.”
“Yeah?” He tipped his head, clearly interested. “Traveling was outside your comfort zone?”
“At first. Then it just became fun.” She felt the familiar, nostalgic happiness of adventuring with Todd bubble up within her. They’d seen and done so many incredible things. Bu
ilt so many amazing memories. There was nobody else she could imagine being on the road with for that long. “Second nature. But it filled me up. You know? Is that crazy?” It felt like it might be crazy.
“It’s not. I felt the same way.”
“You did?” He’d made it all seem normal, like he knew what he was doing every step of the way.
“Yeah. The trip was something big to fall back on. Like, ‘I did that.’”
“So therefore, I must be someone,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He gave her the smile he always did when they connected on something. It was slightly crooked and went with a glimmer he got in his eyes that made her feel special, known, listened to.
“I thought that only made sense in my head,” she said.
“Like everyone is always saying, we’re good together,” Todd murmured, his focus drifting to her mouth.
She licked her bottom lip, suddenly very aware of how close they were, how she could tip her head up and meet his lips with her own. She reminded herself that she was leaving the ball in his court this time. It was his turn to make a move, she’d give him a chance by not running off.
Todd swallowed, his head slowly lowering. Her eyelids fluttered closed.
“Nic?”
“Hmm?” Her eyes drifted open, catching his serious expression.
“Don’t call our kiss a mistake anymore, okay?”
* * *
They finished watching the movie, Todd never quite landing the kiss Nicola had been anticipating. Desperate to keep him around for a few more hours, to delay the inevitable onslaught of to-do list jobs associated with work—as well as see if there was a way to finally coax him to kiss her—Nicola racked her mind for something they could do.
“Want to go for a hike?”
“It’s almost dark,” Todd said with a yawn. “And it’s chilly out there.”
“It’s refreshingly brisk. And we still have an hour until the sun goes down.”
“Nah.”
“What are you? Chicken?” She poked him in the ribs, keeping her body a safe distance away so she’d remember not to launch herself onto his muscled torso and kiss him senseless. “Lost your sense of adventure?”
“Who you calling chicken?” he protested.
