Chapter 112

He’d spent the following days drunk. Two days later, he’d crawled out of the bottle, but he hadn’t returned to the office, calling in ill. Not that it was a lie. He was sick.

Heart sick. Soul sick. If that wasn’t a thing, it should be.

Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his head, dragging it down his face and chin. Scruff from the last couple of days scraped his palm, and it reminded him that he needed to shave before he returned to the office tomorrow. Because he had to return. He couldn’t hide out in his home nursing his open wounds forever. No matter how much he longed to. The thought of facing anyone right now had him longing to open another bottle of Scotch.

Facing anyone? More specifically, Michelle. Every time he closed his eyes, an image of her on that sidewalk saying she loved him wavered on his eyelids. Her voice rang in his head, and he couldn’t escape himself. Couldn’t escape her.

I love you, Nick. Yes, as my friend, but also as more. As the man who makes me whole, gives me joy, is the other half of my heart. When it comes down to it, your fear and your insecurities broke us. And that’s something you’ll have to live with.

No amount of alcohol could shut out those words. Words that followed him into sleep, so he didn’t. They tortured him, condemned him. Because she’d spoken truth. He couldn’t believe she loved him, chose him over Stoner. And, yes, it did come down to his own fears and insecurities. Yet, he couldn’t shake them. But, God, he wanted to. Didn’t she know he yearned to believe her? To be able to claim her as his, and to be claimed by her in return?

But like he’d told her, he’d ceased to be a dreamer, a believer in fairy tales, in happily-ever-afters. So he’d rather let her go than risk her brutalizing his heart when she walked away later. If that made him a coward, then so be it.

Fuck it!

He strode to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer bottle. Opened it and gulped down a huge amount of it, but hell it didn't make him feel better.

Only one thing. One person could. And that person was Michelle. His best friend. The love of his life.

The cold of the beer bottle numbed Nick's palms and fingers. They were the only things numb on him. Everything else— his chest, his stomach, his head, hell, even his legs—hurt, throbbed. Almost as if all his limbs had been deadened, and all of him had come back online at once..

He tingled, his skin prickled. Because he was alive. And sacred.

It was that fear that had prevented him from telling Michelle he loved her all this time. Because he feared her rejection. Feared she couldn’t possibly see him as more than a friend, see more in him to love.

Yet, he couldn’t deny that she was one of the few people in his life apart from his family who’d unconditionally offered him acceptance, affirmation, forgiveness...love. She’d always given him love.

I love you, Nick. Yes, as my friend, but also as more. As the man who makes me whole, gives me joy, is the other half of my heart.

When he’d replayed that in his head earlier, it’d brought him pain. Now it brought him a cautious joy. It brought him hope. Could he reach for that future with her? Grab hold of the happiness that could be theirs?

He wanted to be brave enough to. He wanted to be the man she needed. Whom she deserved. Was that man him?

He didn’t know. But she’d chosen him, and he damn didn't want to make her regret it. That is if he could convince her to forgive him for hurting her and give him another chance.

Damn.

He was going to need a miracle.

_________

“This way, Ms. McKenna.” The older woman, Charlene, led Michelle through the executive offices.

Michelle knew her as Todd's assistant, which only deepened her curiosity about why the company president's personal assistant was leading her to a room for a mysterious meeting after an equally mysterious summons.

As long as she didn’t have to meet with Nick too, she'd be fine. He hadn't been in the office for a while now and It’d been a little over a week since she’d last seen him on that sidewalk, and she wasn’t ready to change that. Not yet, especially after everything that had gone down with her brother, Nolan and Candace.

Eventually, she’d have to face Nick, but…She gave her head a small shake, focusing on the arrow-straight spine of the woman in front of her.

“Right in here.” She paused before a glass door where closed blinds prevented her from glimpsing inside. “Go on in. They’re expecting you.” Charlene smiled and cracked open the door.

They? Who in the world was they?

Stomach dipping in trepidation, she gave the assistant a tremulous smile in return and slid through the opening. She entered the packed conference room, and a sweep revealed an empty black, leather chair at the very end of the long wood table. She quickly sank into it, her gaze centered on the man standing next to a screen at the front of the room.

Nick.

Their gazes locked, and a current of electricity pulsed through her, sizzling in her veins. Lust and need had no care for a broken heart and injured pride. All her body and sex knew was that the man who delivered orgasms like he’d invented them stood mere feet from her.

Traitors.

But... Oh, God, she’d missed him.

Everything about him. It was a physical ache, and not all of it sexual. That part of who they were was so new, it didn’t encompass even half of what she longed for. She hungered to hear his deep, whiskey smooth voice, breathe in his comforting, earthy scent and feel the security of his body. The security of his arms.

And, yes, she yearned for the devastating pleasure only he could bring her. Thank God a room full of people separated them. Or else she might do something she’d promised herself she wouldn’t—throw herself at him.

Averting her gaze, she scanned the room again, noting Todd toward the head of the table and other men and women she knew worked for the company but Michelle could now guess the purpose of this meeting. Nick's proposal he'd once told her about since he got promoted, although she couldn't quite figure out why her presence was needed. But still, anxiety pooled in her belly again, but this time for him.