11. Nick

CHAPTER 11

NICK

One day we’ll be able to do what we want, go where we want, and no one can say a word about it. I can’t wait. - HB

As usual, the gravel parking lot of Genie’s Country Western Bar was full when I pulled in. This was Green Valley’s place to go when you wanted a mellow night to unwind with friends over a beer or a game of darts. Genie kept the place classy, for a bar anyway. Line dancing and pool were big here, rather than fights and indecent hookups in the parking lot.

My boots crunching through the lot kept me anchored against the swirling river of hope threatening to drown me. I wanted to see her so bad, the thought that she wouldn’t be here felt inconceivable.

Squinting against the dim light, I made my way through the small lobby area and onto the wooden dance floor. I tried scanning the sea of people as I made my way to the bar, but the winding strings of bulbs around the ceiling beams were the only illumination above the crowd of dancers and I couldn’t make out any faces.

“Hey, Nick! Over here.” Mari waved me over from her spot at the edge of the corner booth near the bar. “It’s just the three of us for now. Everyone else is in that line, dancing their booties off.”

She scooted over, patting the wooden bench so I could slide in next to her.

“Hey there, frickin’ Nick,” Clara slurred. I’d almost missed her, slumped in the corner of the booth. “It rhymes. You’re an English teacher and I’m a poet, don’t you know it. Ugh. That was dumb.”

I had known Mari for years, the way you would know anyone you grew up going to school with in a small town, but we became better acquainted when became co-workers.

Ally Dalbotten, the art teacher Clara had subbed for today, was on the other side of the booth. “Shh, I’m not here. I needed a mental health day.”

I chuckled. “These lips are sealed.” She probably needed a day away from Pin Dick. Ally was not shy about going toe to toe with that jackass.

“She’s a little bit tipsy,” Mari leaned in close to whisper. “Drunk Clara is grumpy. I ordered some fried pickles and Diet Coke, that should probably help. She’s fond of tequila shooters. I had no idea until a few minutes ago, when she had five.”

“Ahh, I see. Are you okay there, Clara?”

“Dandy and fine. Keen and peachy. Don’t you worry your little ol’ self about me now. Where’s Court? He drove us over here, that means we’re kind of on a date, frickin’ Nick, and I wanna dance.”

“He’s in the middle of that line dance over there, see?” Mari pointed him out. “He’s surrounded by all those PTA ladies.” Court was not a ladies’ man, but he could be if he wanted to. Somehow, he found himself surrounded by women everywhere he went.

“Maybe she should dance?” Ally suggested. “It might burn some of the alcohol off. Um, so is Clay coming tonight?”

“I’m not sure. We didn’t talk about it.”

“Okay, dang.” I had my suspicions; I would bet money that they had a thing for each other. We’d all grown up together. Ally was my age, but Clay was a few years older. Her older brother was Clay’s best friend and they’d always been close.

“I’ll dance with her.” I gestured to the dance floor. “Come on, Clara. It will make you feel better.”

“Let’s all go dance,” Mari agreed. “I need to burn off some of my excess energy or I’ll never sleep tonight.” She slid out and reached for Ally’s hand. “Come with me.”

With a laugh, Ally took her hand, and they were off.

I reached for Clara. “Let’s go, my tipsy little heartbreaker.”

“Mmmm-kay.” She took both of my hands and let me pull her along the smooth wooden seat until she was on her feet. “I’m not a big drinker anymore—those shots hit me like a ton of bricks. This sucks. Where’s Court? He promised me a dance. Maybe I’ll ask him out—what do you think? Or maybe we’re already dating? He did pick me up at my house, you know.”

“That Court?” I pointed him out in the crowd of middle-aged line-dancing ladies he’d found himself in. He smiled and waved.

“Yup, that’s the one.” She giggled and blew him a kiss, shooting me a look from the corner of her eye to make sure I was watching.

I laughed. “You mean my buddy Court who I play touch football with, who wouldn’t dare make a move on what he knows is mine? That Court?”

“Ugh, damn it, frickin’ Nick.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I’m so bad at lying when I’m drunk, and I’m not yours. I’m nowhere near yours.”

“As I recall, you’re bad at lying when you are sober, too. Remember when you bought me Foo Fighters tickets for my eighteenth birthday and tried to convince me we were driving to Nashville to tour some random college? And you know what I meant about you being mine—we have history.”

“Fine, I knew what you meant. Lying is hard. I’m much better at secrets, aren’t I?” She gave me a sarcastic smile.

“I suppose.”

“Anyhoo, you look nice tonight. I like your arms in that shirt.” She ran a hand up my forearm, stopping on the rolled-up sleeve of my plaid shirt. Her touch sent a burst of goosebumps shooting over my skin in its wake, and I shivered as I grew greedy for more. “You’re bigger than you used to be.”

“Thanks.” I couldn’t help but smile as I noted that drunk Clara was chatty. Maybe I’d invite her over for pool cocktails so I could speak to her every day. “But let’s talk about you, beautiful. That dress should be illegal.” It was bright red and hit at her knees, and it fit like it was made for her body: snug, with a scooped neckline and thin straps. Her heels were high enough to put us almost at eye level.

“Aww.” Her full rosy lips pursed in an adorable pout. “You don’t approve?”

“That’s not anywhere near what I said, baby.” I bit my lip and eyed her up and down. “You’re fucking gorgeous, and I would never dare tell a lady how to dress. But I will tell you I’m ready to knock a few heads together if anyone gets any ideas where you’re concerned.”

“Chivalry isn’t dead after all—how nice.” She leaned in close with a hand on my chest and her voice dropped low so only I could hear it. “I bet you thought about me after I left, didn’t you?” Her eyes turned briefly shrewd through the drunken haze.

She stumbled into me and for one split second I was seventeen again. I inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of her perfume transporting me to the front seat of my truck with her sitting in my lap. She was flowers and sunshine, love and light, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss her again.

“Of course I did.” I pulled back to look in her eyes, taking her hand in mine to kiss the back. “For a long time you were all I thought about.”

“I did too. I missed you, Nick.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Admitting you had a real feeling? How unexpected.”

“I’d never felt with anyone how I felt with you. Then you took it away.”

“I took it? That’s not what I remember.”

“Dance with me, Nick. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It hurts too much.” She threw her arms around my neck and pressed her body into mine.

She tucked her forehead against the side of my neck. The soft warmth of her sigh tickled my collarbone, and it was all I could do not to get hard.

Damn fucking right I’d thought about her when she was gone. I’d have to get drunker than she was right now in order to handle the memories.

Like I’d wanted to do all day, I yanked her into my chest. My hands on her waist in a polite dance weren’t enough. I wrapped my arms around her and buried my face in her neck to breathe in the sweetly scented memories that were torturing me by holding her like this.

I could fall for her again. All I had to do was let it happen, and I’d be under her spell once more.

I held her close as we swayed to the music; closer than I should but not as close as I wanted. We’d never danced. We didn’t have a song. Our relationship had been a secret at my insistence. I’d thought it would protect her from my mother, but in retrospect I realized it was a mistake to have kept it that way. There were so many memories we’d never had a chance to make together.

Her hair rustled against my chin as her lips moved to whisper in my ear. “Take me to Sky Lake. I want to remember how we were together. I want to feel it.”

“Anything you want. I’ll text Mari and let her know we’re leaving.”

“’Kay . . .”

I offered my hand to guide her out of the bar. She gripped it tight in hers, looking up at me with a soft smile.

“We never got the chance to dance together back then, did we?” she asked.

“No, we didn’t,” I confirmed. Secrets prevented us from attending any of the dances at school together. No homecoming, no prom—nothing that could give us away. We reached my truck, and I helped her climb into the cab, then hurried around to the driver’s side with my heart racing out of control.

“I liked dancing with you tonight, Nick,” she murmured into the dark as the lights of Green Valley disappeared into the background. I turned onto the rural county road that led up to the lake, wondering if I was doing the right thing.

“I liked it too. A lot.” I glanced her way as I turned down the road to Sky Lake. Her temple pressed against the passenger window created a confusing duality in my mind. Her reflection in the glass, so much like the faded images of her face that had haunted me throughout the years, was now eclipsed by the real woman sitting at my side.

I didn’t know how to be with her right now. Years of pent-up feelings simmered at the surface of my consciousness—the hurt I had thought I had long since buried, the many nights I’d spent wondering what had gone wrong, the pain of her loss—and felt like knives in my heart. And they were twisting deeper with each mile I drove.

What was I doing?

She was going to destroy me again, and I was going to let it happen. Was it her I really wanted? Or did I want to recreate the time in my life when I’d last felt happy?

“We were too young, weren’t we, Nick?” The sad sound of her voice startled me out of my thoughts. “It never would have worked between us.”

“Maybe not. Or maybe it could have been amazing. There’s no way to know now. But maybe we can be something else together instead. Why do we have to look back to move forward? It was so long ago—we’re different people now.”

“Do you want that?”

“I think I do. I want to try, at least.”

The lake was deserted. I drove my truck down to the edge and cut the engine, thankful for my all-wheel drive.

Her reflection in the window blended into the starlight dancing across the surface of the water. Somehow it was easier to see her that way, as if this were a dream I’d found myself inside of again, rather than a decade and a half of subconscious yearning suddenly come to life right next to me.

The safety of the illusion disappeared when she turned to face me fully. “I want you to kiss me. Right here in this spot, just like we used to do.”

Her words plunged me out of the dream and into the deep end. I reached out a shaking hand to sift it through the soft flaxen hair flowing over her shoulder. “We can’t relive the past,” I murmured. “You know that right?”

“I know. I just want to feel it again.”

“Feel what?” I whispered, desperate to know what was on her mind.

She closed her eyes. “Safe.”

My heart shattered in my chest as I realized I would do anything for her. Whatever it took to make her feel happy, secure, loved, safe . . .

Was this my mission now? Was I risking my emotional safety for hers?

“Clara—”

“Please, Nick, one last time so I never forget what it felt like to have what I wanted.”

“You’re breaking my heart right now. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I’m not that drunk anymore, and who says I’m not the one taking advantage of you? Maybe I want a piece of the past I can hold on to. Maybe I want closure. Or maybe I have no idea what I want and I’m a selfish bitch for bringing you out here.” Tears glistened on her pale, moonlit face. I never was very good at saying no to her.

My heart turned over in my chest as I wiped her cheeks with my thumbs and drew her closer. Her eyelids fluttered as she dropped her lashes to hide the hurt that seemed to live inside of her; it was always there, every time I looked at her.

“Shh,” I soothed as I shifted closer and drew her face to mine. “It’s okay. You are in no way selfish, and don’t insult yourself using cuss words like that. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her trembling lips parting on a sigh. “Please, Nick . . .”

I pressed my lips to hers, a featherlight touch at first, but I needed more. We both did. Gently, I covered her mouth with mine. I devoured her softness as each and every kiss we had ever shared exploded in my mind like a bomb, fragmenting into pieces as all the pent-up longing I’d buried scattered through my body like shrapnel.

The pain of losing her shimmered at the edges of my vision, and I slammed my eyes shut before the hurt overpowered the longing. I didn’t want the pain, not when she was finally here in my arms after all this time.

Burying my face in her neck, I breathed a kiss there before pulling away. I had to let her go now or I wouldn’t be able to stop. And I had to stop. There was no way we were ready for anything more. Not now—not yet.

She might think this was only a one-time thing, one last kiss, a way to revisit the past or a way to feel a sense of closure. But I knew better. The chemistry we shared was a once-in-a-lifetime gift and I refused to squander it again. I was beginning to believe she was meant to be mine. But she wasn’t ready yet, that much was obvious, and I wasn’t either.

“God, Nick. Drunk or not, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing out here with you.” She covered her face with her hands.

“Getting lost in the past and questioning the future, same as me.”

“I don’t know why I made you come all the way out here when I feel so hopeless all the time.”

“Because you’re just as curious about me as I am about you, and you’re sick of tiptoeing around our mutual feelings. And hopeless? No, baby. We have all the time in the world to let this unfold. There’s always hope.”

“Quit being so direct. I’m sobering up and you’re making it hard to get back into denial.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Denial, huh?”

“It’s my preferred state. Life is hard enough without the past coming back to haunt me every time I leave my house and see you in your yard.”

“We should talk about that.”

“There’s that word again.”

“What word? Talk?”

“That’s the one. I don’t think I can do this with you. It hurts too much. This thing between us feels too big, and I can’t let myself get hurt that way again. I just can’t do it.” She reached over and pushed the button to start up the truck. “Take me home. I’m sorry.”

“What if I don’t want to give up on you? What if we never talk about it and just start over?”

She looked at me, her doubt clear on her face. “Do you really think that will work?”

“Why not?”

“Sure, Nick. Not talking has solved so many problems in my life.” Her laugh was bitter, and I decided to let it go—for now.

“I’ll take you home. Expect me to stop by in the morning. I’ll bring you breakfast and a hangover smoothie.”

“You don’t have to do that⁠—”

“I’ll drop it off and leave, if that’s what you want.”

“Okay, I appreciate it and will return the favor somehow. Thank you.”

The bubble of nostalgia was gone now, and we were back to . . . whatever we had become after I moved in next door.

Pushing for something as big as a second chance would have to wait until I got to know her again. There was too much history between us to force the issue.