5. Nick

CHAPTER 5

NICK

Hey, heartbreaker, come to my window tonight. I have something for you. No, it’s not what you’re thinking. - Nick

“Can we go see Clara?” Sasha asked—again—as she slid onto a barstool on the other side of the kitchen island from where I was preparing dinner. “We can bring her cookies, or brownies, or banana bread, like new neighbors do? She’s pretty, don’t you think? I love her hair, it sparkles in the sun. Can I dye mine like that? How does she get it so shiny?”

I slammed my eyes shut and set my wooden spoon on the counter, trying to get the sudden surge of memories of having my hands wrapped up in Clara’s hair out of my head. I used to love burying my face in her neck and holding her in my arms with those soft, thick waves tickling my nose and their sweet floral scent filling my senses until all I could feel was her.

I let out a frustrated sigh and tried to adjust my attitude. None of how I was feeling was Sasha’s fault. She didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of my irritation. I plastered on a smile and tried to keep my tone light. “First of all, we’re the new people on the block. If anyone’s bringing baked goods, it will be people bringing them to us—that’s the tradition. And second, no. You have beautiful hair, honey. Maybe when you’re older, if you still want to.”

“Fine, okay. Thank you. But don’t you think she’s pretty?” she pushed.

“Uh, I guess so.” Pretty was not the right word, not when Clara was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. We’d been here for a little over a week and Sasha’s preoccupation with Clara was glaringly obvious.

As was my own, unfortunately.

“She’s so nice. She always says hi and talks to me and Ethan when we’re walking home from the bus or Mom’s house. I like her.”

I grunted in answer and resumed sautéing the asparagus for our dinner. My own preoccupation with Clara was hidden, like it had always been, and her nearness was driving me to distraction.

A few nights back I discovered our bedrooms were separated by nothing but a few feet of empty air, windows, and two sets of fucking curtains. When I saw her sexy silhouette changing clothes through her sheers, I’d installed blackout blinds and gave up on ever seeing natural light in my room again.

After the way she’d broken me when she left town, I found it infuriating she still had the power to occupy my mind. It was constant. It was torture. It had to stop.

“I wonder if she’s on her porch. She’s always out there. We should decorate our porch like hers. Then you could go outside and sit there and drink coffee or whatever, and maybe talk to her. Or ask her on a date, or something.”

Little did she know . . .

“Decorating the porch is a great idea. You can be in charge of it.” Anything to distract her from talking about Clara worked for me.

Her eyes lit up. “I know! I could do my homework out there. Ethan is always hogging the backyard with his football crap and his dumb friends. And you too, with all your barbeque stuff. I want a pretty porch, just like Clara’s.”

“Great idea. Go online and pick out a few things for me to buy. But stick to the sales, okay?”

She hopped off the stool, buzzing with excitement. “Yes! Thank you, Dad.”

I loved seeing her happy. “You’re welcome. I want you to love it here, and if having a pretty porch is what it takes, then that’s what you’ll have.”

She beamed at me. “I already love it here. You picked the perfect house. My room slays.”

“I’m happy to hear that⁠—”

“But I still want a pretty porch.”

I laughed. “Of course you do.” I watched as she ran off to the living room to the computer. “I’ll try to have it ready for you before you come back from your mom’s place.”

“Yay! I love you! I’ll make a list.”

“Love you too.” My every other week was almost up. But we were within walking distance now, so I anticipated seeing them much more throughout the week. They’d had dinner at Morgan’s house a couple of nights during my turn and I was happy that she’d been willing to loosen her stringent adherence to our custody agreement. The kids were already more relaxed now that they could go back and forth between our two houses without lots of planning and a car ride across town.

In fact, Ethan was there right now raiding her pantry because I was out of chips. Speak of the devil . . . I looked up as he appeared in the doorway carrying a bag of Doritos.

“It’s official. Sasha’s lost her mind over Clara. Check out what they’re wearing. They match.” He tipped his head toward the kitchen window, which I studiously avoided since it had the perfect view of Clara’s porch from the side of the house. “She wants to be her clone or something. They’re both wearing purple. What’s for dinner? It smells good.”

“Garlic-rubbed baked potatoes, asparagus, and steaks on the grill.” I pointed to the bag in his hands. “Maybe save those for later. You’ll spoil your dinner.”

“Nice. Can we eat on the patio?”

“Sure.” Eating outside always ran the risk of a Clara sighting. But half the reason I’d bought this damn house was for the yard, and the kids knew it.

“Can we go in the pool after?”

“I guess so.”

Sasha shouted from the living room, “Can we invite Clara to swim with us?”

“Not this time,” I answered.

Or ever.

I knew what Clara looked like in a bathing suit. And out of one, too. The thought of seeing all that gorgeous, soft alabaster skin again was too much for me. I got hard and immediately stepped into the corner of the counter to hide it.

I thought about the times we’d snuck up to Sky Lake together. We’d skinny-dipped when we we’d been lucky enough to be alone, and if people had been around, I’d pulled my truck into the trees, and we’d spent our time there instead. We used to make out for hours in the cab, or if it was dark, in the bed under a blanket.

My eyes drifted to the side window. Sure enough, she was out there on her porch using her foot to rock the swing while she knitted and sang along with the Foo Fighters. Nostalgia hit me straight in the gut. My erection died and my eyes turned glassy with unshed tears as Everlong floated lightly over the air between our houses. I mouthed the last line along with her as it faded away. I’d been ignoring her music as I cooked but seeing her made it real.

We’d been real.

If I couldn’t make peace with these memories, I would never be able to live in this house. I had to talk to her at some point. The look on her face each time we caught even the slightest glimpse of each other told me it would be nearly impossible to get her to listen to me. And what could I possibly say?

I pulled the potatoes out of the oven and put them on a tray along with the fixings. “Let’s eat! Come on, y’all.”

Beep

Beep

Beep

“Shit.” With a scowl, I slammed a hand on my cheap, old-school alarm clock. Mornings were not my thing. I needed clocks like this so whenever I ended up breaking one, I didn’t have to feel too bad about it.

“Are you awake, Dad? Can we have Toaster Strudel for breakfast?” Sasha had always been a morning person. She was up and raring to go every day, even on the weekends, which I hadn’t been a fan of when she was little. But now that she could get breakfast and settle into the day on her own, I didn’t mind so much. She could get up at the crack of dawn all she wanted, so long as I could sleep in.

“Yeah,” I answered with a grunt.

Had I remembered to lock the door?

I shoved a pillow over my hard-on to be safe. Images of Clara’s naked body with my hands and mouth all over it had played like a dirty movie behind my eyes as I slept. To say I’d tossed and turned all night in a horny, fitful slumber would be the understatement of the year. I was hard as a rock, and it was painful.

She burst through the door, and I turned to my side, and tucked the pillow tight against me.

“You’re always so grumpy in the morning.” She popped one hip and put a hand on the other. “You need daylight. That’s what Mom always says. These curtains suck.” She crossed the room and swept open my blackout shades.

“Ahh! No sun, I’ll melt,” I teased, hissing like a vampire as I yanked my quilt over my face.

“Oh hey, look. Clara’s outside. She’s asleep on her balcony.”

My eyes shot open under my covers. Was she okay?

At that moment, Ethan entered, because of course he did. “Why is she out there?” he asked Sasha who, naturally, opened my window and asked her.

Shit.

“Miss Clara! Why are you sleeping on your balcony?” she yelled.

Clara’s faint voice hit my ears as she said hello, and I almost lost my mind with the need to find out what the problem was.

“Oh, I’m fine. Don’t y’all worry about me. There’s a bug in my room. It’s probably gone now.”

“I’ll get my dad.”

“No! No, I’m okay.”

“Dad!” Ethan hollered as if I wasn’t right here in hearing distance. “Miss Clara needs you. She can’t go inside her house.”

Luckily, my morning wood situation had, by now, gone away. Having my kids burst into the room would do that. I made my way to the window, bleary-eyed and scratching my bare chest, as per usual.

“Morning, Clara.” I squinted into the sunlight to find her sitting on the edge of a lounge chair with a sheepish expression dancing across her face. She was delectably mussed up with messy hair and sleepy eyes. We were only a few feet apart and I wanted nothing more than to climb through my window and join her on her balcony, climb on top of her in that lounge chair and do all the naked things we used to love to do together.

“Hi,” she answered with a sheepish little wave.

“So, there’s a bug in your bedroom, and you came out here to sleep where all the rest of them live?” I teased.

Two adorable scarlet circles appeared on her cheeks. “It made sense at the time. I was tired and all out of logic, okay? This bug meant business. It had facial expressions, Nick. It wants something from me.”

“Is your house locked?”

“Yeah, I mean, I could just go inside, but I really don’t want to. If it was a spider, I’d have just caught it and put it outside, but this was a big bug, Nick—huge. I have no idea what kind it is, but it’s on a mission. I know it.” She threw a hand over her eyes. “God, I’m being such a baby about this.”

I caught a glimpse of Sasha and Ethan watching me as I spoke to Clara as though I knew her—which obviously I did, but had been pretending not to.

Damn.

“Uh, we went to high school together,” I muttered while trying to figure out the best way to help her.

Sasha wasn’t buying it. “Sure, Dad. Get the ladder and climb up there. You can go inside, find the bug, and like, save her life or whatever.” She bit her lip to hide a laugh.

“Can I go too?” Ethan asked. “I’ll catch it.”

“No,” Sasha answered him before I could. “We have to get ready for school.”

“You’re not climbing up there, Ethan,” I confirmed. “Good idea, Sash.”

“Hang tight,” I told Clara. “I’m coming over with my ladder.”

“This is so stupid. You don’t have to do this.” She stood, putting a hesitant hand on the knob of her French door. “Okay, never mind. Come up, please. I can’t. I⁠—”

“Shh, I got this.” I held up a finger. “Don’t worry.” I turned back to Sasha and Ethan, who were watching me with rapt attention. “Y’all get ready for school now or you’ll miss the bus.”

Sasha grabbed Ethan by the arm. She was making connections in her brain. I could see it in her eyes. “Come on, Eath.”

Whether she was figuring out Clara and I had a past together or she was making plans to meddle in the future, I couldn’t tell. But one thing was clear: she was about to start running mental rings around me too.

I dashed down to the garage, grabbed the ladder, and walked through the gate in the low fence that led to Clara’s backyard.

Crystal-blue eyes met mine as I extended the ladder up to her balcony. “It’s okay, Clara. I’m coming.”

The time that had passed between us somehow ceased to exist as, rung by rung, the years between us vanished.

“Thank you,” she murmured as I threw a leg over the rail and landed in front of her.

I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t find the words. I reached out, trailing a fingertip down her soft cheek before brushing her hair over her shoulder. My god, she was beautiful. Her face was delicate and lovely, but strength had always shone through in her expression. Her full lips parted, and she let out a tremulous sigh.

The barrier of anger and confusion that had formed between us was gone, at least for the moment. My heart thumped wildly in my chest and a fresh rush of pink stained her cheeks as we moved closer, pulled together like magnets, unable to resist the attraction that still, after all these years, drew us to each other.

My face lowered inch by slow inch as past and present collided and instinct took over. “Look at you,” I choked, swallowing the lump in my throat. “You’re right here. God, how I’ve missed you.”

“Nick, it’s been so long . . .” Her sweet voice, barely a whisper, faded away into the hushed stillness of the morning. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as her dark lashes swept down across her cheekbones.

“Dad!” Ethan yelled from below. “Can I come up and help?” Startled, I spun around to see him about to climb the ladder.

“Ethan!” Sasha hissed as she ran up behind him. “Ugh, you’re such a dumbass. Come on. The bus will be here in five minutes. Forget we were here, Dad. See you later.”

Too late.

The moment was broken. “Bye, be good. Love you!” I called out as I watched them walk to the corner to meet the bus.

I turned back to Clara. She’d shut down. “Thank you for coming up here,” she muttered, gesturing toward the door.

“Yeah, no problem.” I went inside. A giant black bug—I thought it was a stag beetle, but I wasn’t sure—sat plumb in the middle of her bed. Those things freaked me out; I didn’t blame her for sleeping outside.

Was it planning something? Perhaps it was. Its beady little eyes tracked my movements as I spotted a glass on the bedside table to trap it with. I grabbed the glass and chugged the water inside before carefully lowering it over the bug’s shiny black body.

I called out to Clara, “You can come in now. I need something to slide under your glass. I don’t want to squash it on your bed.”

“Oh god, oh god, ew, ew, ew,” she chanted as she crept along the wall toward the hallway. “I’ll get a piece of cardboard or something.”

Once she got near the bedroom door, she wasted no time running through it. The sound of her feet dashing down the stairs made me laugh as I pressed the glass deeper into the bed. “You’re not going anywhere.” The little shit glared up at me from beneath it. If this fucker were any bigger, we’d all be dead.

She returned with a few pieces of junk mail. I snagged one and carefully slid it under what had become our mutual enemy.

“I have to get going or I’ll be late,” I muttered as I lifted the glass.

“Yeah. I appreciate this. I’d offer to bake you some cookies or something as a thank you, but I don’t do that. Maybe I’ll buy you a plant. Sasha told me your yard is boring.”

I let out a chuckle. “That would actually be perfect. Sasha is determined to have a porch just like yours. She would love that.”

“She’s a sweet kid. They both are, Nick.” Her eyes drifted to the floor. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. I—can we talk? Not right now,” I clarified. “I have to get to work.” She turned toward the hallway, and I trailed behind. “But can we, um, maybe be friends at some point? I don’t like this feeling between us. I feel like I’m missing something⁠—”

I followed her downstairs, keeping my eyes on the bug in the glass and not her perfect ass in her purple silk pajama shorts that did nothing to hide the luscious bounce after each step.

When we reached the bottom of the staircase, she whirled on me. “Friends?” she snapped. “Okay, sure, we can be friends. Have your people call my people and we’ll schedule a lunch meeting or a Zoom call or something.”

“Clara, please, I didn’t mean⁠—”

“The door is over there.” She threw out an arm in the direction of her foyer. “I’ll give Sasha her plant next time I see her. Or better yet, I’ll have it delivered.” Her eyes were as hollow as her voice sounded.

Regret burned through me like acid. Somehow, I’d fucked up. “Clara, I⁠—”

“I don’t feel like talking.” She threw the door open.

The spark of hope that had unexpectedly started to blaze in my heart extinguished in an instant. I crossed the threshold and tossed the bug into the bed of flowers that lined the edge of her front steps. “I understand and I’m sorr—” I tried to catch her eyes again after I turned back to her, but she was not having it.

“Goodbye, Nick. Thanks for . . .” She gestured to the flower bed, snatched the glass out of my hand, then slammed the door in my face.

I turned around just in time to see Mr. Neal, the cranky old librarian at the school, back out of his driveway. He waved to me when he passed with a knowing smirk on his face as I headed home in what looked exactly like a walk of shame—shirtless, wearing only my pajama pants.

Shit.