"Amazing. Nick is a programming and AI genius. I'm learning a lot under him."
"And you're learning a lot under him?"
I clear my throat, praying for the customer in line in front of us to be quick. He isn't and Kat is staring at me with laser beams of concern.
Finally, he finishes. We step to the register and order vanilla lattes.
She quick draws her credit card, waving away my objections. "You're helping with my dress. Coffee is the least I owe you."
"You never owe me anything for helping you."
"Okay. Then I just want to buy my sister a coffee. You can get the next one."
We move to a table against the wall.
Kat sits up straight, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes focused on me. "What's up with Nick? I won't judge or try to help or do anything but listen."
"You swear? Especially the middle part."
"I swear on my ability to draw."
I want to tell her the truth, but I'm not so sure about her ability to stay uninvolved. When the barista calls our order, I excuse myself.
Kat's eyes are wide. She bites her lip like she's trying not to show how worried she is. There's more control and confidence to it than there was this time last year. She's in charge of her life. She's going after what she wants.
Maybe it's possible that she won't put my problems ahead of hers.
I set the drinks on the table as I slide into my seat. The sweet, creamy beverage fills me with warmth. Risking my desires is one thing. Risking Kat's well-being is totally out of the question.
"You're not doing me a favor by keeping whatever this is a secret." She plays with her sweater. "You're only making me more worried."
Damn, she's a mind reader.
I take a deep breath. I can do this. I can admit how reckless and headstrong I've been. "I slept with him."
Her eyes go wide and her jaw drops. She pulls it up quickly, pursing her lips like she's trying to hide her shock. "Just the one time or more?"
"It's an ongoing thing."
"Oh."
"You're freaking out."
"Not at all." She takes a long sip, worry spreading all over her face. "So are you two fucking or is it more serious than that?"
"I'm not sure. I like him. More than I've ever liked anyone." I soak in the warmth of my drink. "It's confusing."
"What about it?"
"It was supposed to be casual. My head is telling me it's a bad idea, but my heart—"
Her voice is soft and sweet, not teasing anymore, just concerned. "It's love. Listen to your heart."
"But that's going to get me hurt."
"No risk, no reward." She studies my expression. "Do you want to like him?"
I nod.
"Do you want to trust him?"
"Yeah." I do. I want to find out everything about him. I nod.
"Then, whatever you decide, I'm behind you one hundred percent."
"Thanks."
"Though he's probably behind you, huh?" She smirks.
"Did you just make a sex joke?"
"I'm not totally uncool."
"Only mostly."
***
When we return, the boutique is empty and the salesgirl has a custom rack of half a dozen dresses. I help Kat into them, one at a time, oohing and ahhing as she steps onto the platform.
Kat scrutinizes her reflection with confusion. After three dresses, she's slow and tired.
"I should have made that a triple shot latte." She slides out of a ball gown and hangs it up. She turns to me, not at all shy about wearing nothing but bikini underwear. "Why does this have to be such an ordeal?"
"It doens't. You can show up just like that. Well, with pasties. Maybe a 'B' and an 'S' to show your love."
She smirks. "I forgot my strapless bra. You don't mind, do you?"
"Just surprised. You used to run into your room and lock the door to change."
She shrugs. "I guess I'm used to being on display."
"Gross." I examine the dresses on the 'try' hook. One is pretty but too poufy and showy for Kat. I move it to the 'no' hook. Another is too big. There's not enough time for that level of alterations. The last is beautiful—a lace sheath with elbow-length sleeves and an illusion neckline and back.
I glance at my sister again. She's smaller and thinner than she is in my head. Almost like she's the one who needs my protection. I slide the dress off its hanger.
"Last one?" she asks.
"Last one. Then we get more coffee."
"How much money do you spend on coffee a week? It must be in the three figures."
"I plead the fifth." I unzip the dress and help her into it. It's a little tight in the bust and loose in the waist (a nice problem to have). Otherwise, it fits perfectly.
Kat takes a deep breath. She shakes her shoulders like she's trying to relax. "You're not saying anything."
Warmth spreads through my chest and stomach. "Let's look at it in the main room."
"That good?"
"Better."
She steps into the main room, her gaze going to the three panel mirror. Her jaw drops.
She looks gorgeous. The dress hangs off her curves with a slight flare below the knees. It's much simpler and straighter than the other styles, and it's so her. The lace is feminine and sensual and beautiful. It's Kat.
A tear rolls down my cheek. My sister is really going to do this. She's really getting married.
"I'm pretty sure that means you like it." She turns back to me. "You're going to make me cry."
"It's perfect. You have to get it." I wipe my tears. "If you like it."
She turns back to the mirror, examining her reflection. Her eyes fill with wonder. It's the same look she gets when she's lost in some thought about her comic. "I love it."
"You look happy." I nearly choke on the words. That warm feeling in my stomach spreads out to my toes. I never thought I'd see her so happy. I never thought either of us had a chance for that.
I certainly never expected love to bring tears to my eyes. It's not bullshit. It's fucking real.
It's possible. Real love is possible.
Kat blinks back a tear. She wipes her eyes. "You got me started."
"You look so beautiful."
She steps off the platform to hug me. I turn my neck to avoid getting any makeup I failed to wash away on her dress. All the lingering tension in my muscles relaxes as my sister squeezes me.
I'll always have Kat. I'll always trust her. Not everyone is so lucky.
***
Kat buys the several-thousand-dollar dress and arranges an appointment for rush alterations. We celebrate with a long lunch and a matinee. I use the dark empty space of the theater to take a half nap. What I catch of the movie—some sort of mother/daughter indie drama—isn't half bad.
After, Kat heads home to work on her latest comic. I'm about two miles from my apartment, and the weather is high forties and sunny. I unbutton my coat and check my phone as I start my walk down Broadway.
I have a text from Nick. It's a few hours old.
Nick: How are you feeling?
Lizzy: Good. Doctor says I'm clear for "any physical activity."
Nick: How did he say it?
Lizzy: With a wink and a riding crop. Are you afraid of competition?
Nick: No. I can snap my fingers and get you out of your clothes.
Lizzy: Go on.
Nick: I'll be distracted during my meeting. Did he flirt with you?
Lizzy: I'm going home to get into bed all by myself. I could stand to be distracted.
Nick: You're teasing.
Lizzy: You like it. What if he did? Flirting is normal. I used to flirt with every male customer at Pixie Dust. And any woman who showed interest.
Nick: Didn't that make you feel cheap?
Lizzy: I couldn't afford to care. I needed the commission.
Someone bumps into me, making me acutely aware that I am standing on the corner with a walk sign in front of me. I press the phone agains
t my chest as I cross the street. It buzzes with a next text message but I force myself to walk another three blocks before I look at it.
Lizzy: I should go. I'm walking home, and I'm going to walk straight into a pole. Plus, you have that meeting.
Nick: Did your sister pick out a dress?
Lizzy: It's beautiful. Perfect for her. I cried when I saw it.
Nick: You're sweet.
Lizzy: Agree to disagree.
Nick: Meet me tonight. For dinner and a movie. The Matrix is playing at a theater in Brooklyn.
Lizzy: And you didn't lead with that? Damn Marlowe, I thought you were good at getting what you want. Just so you know, there will be no funny business during The Matrix.
Nick: Funny business?
Lizzy: Yes, funny business. You were a teenager once. I'm sure you at least made out in a movie theater.
Nick: At least?
Lizzy: You never did anything at a movie? Did you even have girlfriends in high school after everything that happened?
Nick: I'm not broken. You don't have to be careful with me.
Lizzy: Did you?
Nick: One. I moved so slowly that she told all her friends I was gay.
Lizzy: Get out.
Nick: It's true.
Lizzy: Did that bother you?
Nick: I didn't have anything to prove.
Lizzy: Did you ever tie her up or anything? I know that being dominant isn't caused by abuse or anything, but it seems like it helps you.
Nick: I didn't try that until I was older. At first, it was the only thing that could relax me enough to make it possible for me to enjoy sex. Then I started to like it. There's so much power when someone gives themselves to you willingly. The trust is intoxicating.
Lizzy: Are you trying to tease me, Marlowe?
Nick: Yes.
Lizzy: I should let you go. You have that meeting. I don't want to distract you with the mental image of me in your lap, my panties at my knees, your tie around my wrists.
Nick: Meet me for dinner at seven. Movie starts at eight.
Lizzy: Are you distracted?
Nick: Thoroughly.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I meet Nick at a hole in the wall Thai restaurant.
He's sitting in a booth in jeans and a purple t-shirt. It's so normal. He still looks handsome, of course, but like any especially attractive twenty something guy in Brooklyn.
I sit across from him. "You own normal clothes."
"You need to work on your compliments."
I shrug.
"You look nice tonight."
"Thank you." I steal a sip of his whiskey. "How'd you get here so early? You usually work until eight."
"I was motivated." He pulls his drink to his side of the table. His eyes scan my neckline, stopping on the same spot that intrigued Kat.
The damn hickey.
Nick laughs. It's a big laugh, the biggest once I've heard from him.
"What is funny about this?" I ask.
"Nothing."
"You know how awkward it was when my sister asked how I got a hickey?"
"What did you tell her?"
I bite my tongue. Dammit. Our relationship is supposed to be a secret.
His eyes meet mine. "I wanted to keep this from Shepard. It doesn't matter who else knows."
"Good. I told her everything."
"Everything?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Not that part." I give the menu a cursory scan, but my heart is set on green curry shrimp. "Why do you want to keep this from Shepard?"
"I don't trust him not to hurt you."
"Have you considered trying to reconcile with him? Maybe he's mad about the rehab and not... everything else."
Nick's expression steels. "It won't matter. Once he has his mind set on something, he won't stop until he gets it."
"You don't begrudge his hatred?"
"I deserve worse." His eyes turn to the table. "Lizzy, I'm sure you have good intentions, but I didn't invite you out to talk about my brother." His cheeks flush with a hint of red. Like he's nervous. "I need a break from this."
"And I'm a convenient distraction?"
"No." He takes a long sip of his drink. "I need you."
He's blushing. Full on blushing.
It makes me all warm and gooey inside. Phoenix Marlowe, billionaire programming genius, needs me.
"How do you need me?" I ask.
"Tied up with your legs spread."
Now I'm the one blushing. I stammer something incomprehensible. "I hope that was to prove a point."
He nods. "I care about you. More, even."
More even. Like that he loves me. He didn't say it, so I don't have to say it.
That warm feeling spreads through my belly. "I care about you too. Maybe even—"
The waitress, an Asian woman in her twenties, saves me from finishing my sentence. She drops off a diet coke and we order dinner.
My gaze goes to Nick. There are dark circles under his deep brown eyes. His shoulders are slumped. His scruff goes beyond five o'clock shadow. He's tired.
We need the same thing—each other.
The thought engulfs me. I do need him. He's the only person, besides my sister, who understands me. Who sees the real me.
I slurp the last sip of my soda. "Let's play a game. I ask you a question, and you have to answer honestly. Then you ask me a question, and I have to answer honestly."
"How do you win?"
"Winning isn't the point."
He shakes his drink. "Then it isn't a game."
"Ugh. What a nerd." I curse his technical correctness. "It's like Tetris. You can't win. You can only lose."
He perks up, interested.
"You lose if you refuse to answer a question."
"Is anything off limits?"
"Anything about Odyssey or Shepard, I guess."
Nick takes a sip and sets his drink to the side. He sits up straight, his eyes focused on me. "I'll give you the advantage. You can start."
"You're so generous." I rack my brain for a question. "Have you ever been in love with anyone?"
"No. Have you?"
"No. I liked my high school boyfriend, but I never felt like I could be myself with him. It was like my personality was too much too aggressive or intense or something like that." I look into his deep brown eyes. "Why is it you don't trust anyone? Because of your stepdad or something else?"
"I trust you."
"With anything?"
He looks off towards the window like he's deep in thought. He makes eye contact. "Almost anything."
That warmth spreads all the way to my fingers and toes. I don't know anything about falling in love, but I do know trust.
And I can feel the intensity of our trust.
"I trust you too." I stammer the words. "With almost anything."
He stares into my eyes. It's like he's looking into my head. Usually, that kind of thing would make me feel exposed. But I like the way he does it. I like him knowing what's in my head, in my heart.
I want him to be happy.
I want to be around him.
Maybe I do love him.
His voice pulls me back to the table. I can contemplate my feelings for him later. Right now, he's here, and he's mine.
"You gave up on the world after that accident, didn't you?" he asks.
I nod. "I was never Miss Congeniality, but I trusted people before the accident. I trusted the world not to take everything I cared about." My gaze goes to the street outside. I don't talk about this with anyone, not even Kat. "At first, when I came out of the ICU, people were really supportive, visiting and bringing flowers, crying they were so happy I was okay. But it was all for show. The second things got hard, they were gone. Is that how it was when your mom died?"
He nods. "A lot of people promised to make her time worthwhile. But none of them stuck around past a hello and a cup of coffee. Not even her brother. They couldn't stand seeing her sick."
"What was her name?"
> "Olivia."
"What was she like?"
"Loving. But her work always came first."
"And your stepfather. Was he still around then?"
"Yes. I waited until after she was gone to press charges."
"She never knew?"
"She knew something was wrong, but never what it was."
"You were trying to protect her?"
"Yes."
"Do you try to protect everyone, even when it comes at the cost of your well-being, your happiness?"
"It's my turn to ask a question."
"But you do."
"Yes." His eyes bore into mine. "Did you think you were going to die?"
I nod. "I still remember the moment the other car hit ours. It was an undivided road, a head-on collision. That's why my parents... the front seat was worse."
He sets his hand on the table. I squeeze tightly. It's different than the last time he offered me this. Harder.
My eyelids press together. "The car was coming towards us, and everything went white. I still remember hoping that my sister got the news after she finished her cross country meet, so she'd win her race."
Nick smiles. "Did you really?"
"Yeah. I woke up a few days later. In a coma, supposedly. I don't remember anything but the sensation of morphine-dulled pain. They waited to tell me my parents died. They didn't want to traumatize me when I was already so weak. Really, it made it worse, not knowing what was going on, having my hope crushed like that."
"Do you miss them?"
I nod. "We fought a lot, but I always knew they loved me. They were teachers, and they were sure they were going to change the world, or at least their under-funded school. They did so much good. It's not fair they're gone."
"What was it you told me in San Francisco?" He quotes me. "Life doesn't give a fuck about what you want."
"Something like that. You don't like the sentiment or the vulgarity?"
"I love both."
I swallow hard. That word, love, it sounds good on his lips. I shake my head so I'll focus on the moment. After all, life doesn't give a fuck about anything I want. I need to grab onto what I have while it's in front of me.
I make eye contact with Nick. "What was it like, your mom putting work first?"
"Lonely. I thought I could take care of the family, but..."
"I'm so sorry you went through that. It hurts me to think about it. I can't imagine how much it hurt you."
The Billionaire's Need: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire's Deal Series Book 3) Page 15
