Chapter Nineteen EVERLEIGH

Chapter Nineteen

EVERLEIGH

Nico’s answer leaves me breathless.

A little angry.

A lot confused.

He’s still sitting at the table, though his chair is pushed back and he’s leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands hanging between his spread knees. Watching me with those dark eyes.

“Why?” I ask, my voice hoarse. My throat aches from holding back everything I want to say to him, and in that moment, I decide to unleash on this man who’s driven me crazy from pretty much day one. “You don’t like it that I cook you guys dinner? That I keep the house nice? That it doesn’t smell like feet anymore since I’m constantly burning candles and I make you all keep your shoes outside? Am I the problem for finally getting rid of the mold in our bathroom? You’re welcome for all of that, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his deep voice rippling along my nerve endings.

Making me shiver.

“Come here,” he says after a few seconds of silence, and like a fool—like the stupid, gone-for-him fool that I am—I walk toward him, anticipation dancing along my skin. Coursing through my blood. My heart is racing, and when I stop directly in front of him, he glances up at me, sitting up fully, reaching out his hand to grab mine.

His reflexes are quick. Somehow, he yanks on my hand, and next thing I know, I’m pressed against the table, my butt right at the edge of it and Nico standing in front of me. Towering over me. Reminding me yet again how tall and powerful he is. His broad shoulders block everything else so I can see nothing but him, a shuddery breath escaping me when he shifts even closer.

“You’re—you’re invading my personal space,” I warn, my voice weak.

He laughs—actually laughs, the jerk. “Seriously?”

I barely nod.

“Well, guess what? You invade my personal space all the damn time. In the morning when I wake up, you’re in the kitchen making us coffee. Your late-afternoon yoga sessions and how you make us dinner practically every night with a smile on your face. Like you get off on feeding us.”

I don’t .?.?. get off on feeding them, but I do love seeing them looking pleased while they eat and how they always, always clean their plates after every meal. I also try my best to make sure the meals don’t consist of wasted calories and that they include plenty of protein to keep their bodies fueled. They appreciate it. I know they do, thanks to all the compliments I receive from them after they eat dinner.

Does that go against every feminist feeling I have? I’m not here to serve the men, absolutely not. But I do enjoy cooking and doing yoga and helping people. I always have. My grandma told me a long time ago that I should lean into what makes me happy and make it my life’s work if I could. That’s why I’m majoring in nutrition and hope to help people as a career.

It just comes naturally to me.

“And you’re especially right here,” he continues, tapping the side of his head. “You invade this personal space of mine all the fucking time.”

Shock washes over me, rendering me speechless.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Nico admits, his gaze never wavering from mine. “Because you’re always right here.” He taps his head again.

I remain silent, unable to come up with the proper words to respond.

“What about you?” he asks after the longest thirty seconds of my life. Maybe it was a minute. Maybe it was only ten seconds.

I don’t know.

“What about me?” I croak, clearing my throat.

“Do you think about me as much as I think about you?”

Yes,my brain screams. I never stop thinking about you.

I should be real with him like he’s being with me. I just—I don’t know how.

I’m too scared.

He shifts even closer, and I can’t move. I’m trapped, but I don’t mind. He reaches for me, settling his hand on my waist, his fingers pressing into bare skin, and a shuddery breath leaves me at first contact.

Oh God.

His body heat seeps into me, warming me from the inside out, and I tilt my head back. His gaze drops to my lips, lingering there, and holy shit, is he going to kiss me?

“Yo, Nico—oh.” Coop comes to an abrupt stop when he catches us, and Nico removes his hand from my body, turning so he can face his friend.

Me? I scurry away like a scared little mouse and resume cleaning the kitchen. My hands are shaking, my breath rattles my lungs, and I try my best to spy on their conversation, automatically giving up when I can barely hear them speaking above the running water.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I’m completely rattled, and it’s all Nico’s fault. And I just know he was about to kiss me. I know he was. And I would’ve gladly welcomed it. Most likely enjoyed it too.

Maybe it was a good thing that Coop interrupted us. Once we take it to that step, nothing will stop us from pursuing it further. Until the next thing I know, I’m naked in bed with Nico.

And that sounds . . . amazing.

I chance a glimpse over my shoulder, wanting to make sure they’re not arguing or anything stupid like that, but they appear friendly. Coop even slaps Nico on the shoulder at one point, both of them looking in my direction, and I hurriedly turn away, embarrassed I got caught.

I wonder what they’re saying to each other. What are they talking about?

Me? Us? I hope not.

I finish loading the dishwasher, doing my best to ignore the conversation currently happening between my roommates. Though it’s unfair of me to think of them in that way. They’re more than just roommates to me already. I consider them my friends.

One of them specifically a friend I have a massive crush on.

This isn’t good. Not even close to being good, but there’s a small part of me now filled with hope, thanks to Nico’s confession.

Beautiful, grumpy Nico, who’s frustrated because he can’t stop thinking about me. Looks like Sienna was right after all. He’s frustrated by his feelings for me.

Feeling is mutual, bud.

By the time Coop leaves us alone in the kitchen, I can feel Nico’s eyes on me. I’m wiping down the counters, putting my all into it rather than facing Nico because I don’t know what to say to him.

I’m also afraid of what he might say to me.

Eventually I finish wiping down the counters and return to the sink, rinsing out the dishrag I was using when I feel him approach. He stops just behind me, his presence wrapping around me like a hug, though he’s not even touching me.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier,” he murmurs.

“It’s fine.” I turn off the water and brace my hands on the edge of the sink. “I never did answer your question.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he asks, “What do you mean?”

“You asked me if I thought about you as much as you thought about me.”

Nico shifts closer, setting his hands on either side of mine along the sink’s edge. “And?”

He’s so close, I can feel his chest rise and fall with every breath he takes. And when I glance up at the window, I can see our reflection thanks to the overhead light. He’s watching me with that intense expression on his face. The one I think he’s wearing because he’s upset with me, or irritated.

But now I’m starting to wonder if it’s something else.

“Maybe I do think about you as much as you think about me,” I whisper, swallowing down all the anxiety that comes with admitting your real feelings. Leaving yourself raw and open to pain.

He doesn’t say anything, and the longer the silence drags out, the worse I feel.

“We can’t do anything about it, though,” I say hurriedly, whirling around to face him. He pulls his hands away and takes a step backward, giving me space, and yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I need. Getting involved with Nico is going to bring me nothing but problems, and I don’t need that.

I don’t want it. I know what I said to Sienna earlier, and yes, I considered what she said, too, but ultimately I think it would be a huge mistake and lead me to nothing but miserable heartache.

I’d much rather deal with indifference after breaking up with a long-term boyfriend instead of getting involved with a larger-than-life, too-handsome-for-his-own-good superstar who’ll only leave me with a broken heart.

I can barely stand the thought.

“We can’t?”

I slowly shake my head. “It would be a huge mistake. Don’t you think?”

Nico says nothing, staring at me, his brows drawn together. Like he’s confused because he can’t figure me out.

“Yeah.” He says the word slowly, dragging it out. “It probably would.”

“You’re not looking for anything serious.”

He squints at me. “And you are?”

I nod, my voice solemn when I admit, “I’m nothing but a serious kind of girl.”

And I believe that with my entire heart.

“Maybe you’re right.” He says those words, but he also sounds full of doubt.

No worries, Nico,I want to tell him. I’m full of doubt too. More than anything, I’m talking out of my ass and trying to convince myself that I’m not into you like that.

“I think I am.” I thrust my hand out toward him like the awkward weirdo I’ve suddenly turned into. “Cool if we just remain friends?”

Reluctantly he reaches toward me and clasps my hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. I feel the pressure of his fingers settle into an incessant throb between my thighs, and I’m desperate to ignore it. “Okay. Friends.”

We shake on it. The biggest lie we’ve ever told each other.

Wonder how long we’ll keep up the pretense.