Chapter 59
“And you just now decided to do something about it? Out of the blue,” Nick drawled, skepticism dripping from his tone like condensation from one of those cups of cold lemonade.
“I know what you’re getting at, and so what?” She threw her hands up between them. “Your brother isn’t the reason.
Why can’t this be about me?” she demanded, frustrated and more than a little annoyed. “You know what, forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”
He frowned, slowly loosening his arms and lowering them to his sides. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,”
He studied her, that gaze roaming her face so intently she stifled the urge to duck her head, hide from him. And that wasn’t them. They didn’t hide anything from each other. Something weird was definitely happening between them. “I think you're perfect the way you are, Michelle.” He finally said,
“Spoken like a true friend.” She shook her head, briefly smiling. Something bleak, almost...desolate flashed in his eyes before the thick fringes of his lashes lowered. What the hell? She reached for him, her fingers grazing the inside of his wrist, but he stepped back, scrubbing his hand over his head. It shouldn’t have felt like rejection. But it did.
“You dead set on this?” he demanded, voice hard, low.
A bolt of nerves attacked her, striking her and leaving her trembling. But it was that fear of change, of the unknown, that affirmed she was doing the right thing. “Yes.”
With one last, long stare, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and strode away from her. Curiosity and impatience warred for dominance within her, and she glanced down at the screen of her own phone. Her appointment was in fifteen minutes. She’d called him for moral support, but she wouldn’t allow him to make her late. Two minutes later, she took a step toward the shop when he turned and stalked back toward her.
“C’mon.” He jerked his head, grasping her elbow.
“What?” Too shocked to disobey his command, she fell into step beside him, but then gathered the lady balls she’d temporarily misplaced. “Hold up.” She abruptly skidded to a halt, jerking her arm free of his hold. “At some point in the last five minutes you suddenly mistook me for a sheep. I don’t know how that happened, but I’m going to offer you the benefit of the doubt since we’re lifelong buddies. So let’s try this again. What’s going on and where are you trying to haul me off to?”
Nick sighed. “If you’re determined to go through with his crazy-ass idea, then I have a connection who once hooked me up with a full-service salon. It's beautiful, professional, with a stylist and makeup artist. Better than this place for sure, But we have to leave right now.”
He shifted closer. Then closer still, completely invading her personal space with his scent, his body. All of him. “But this needs to be said, Michelle. I think… I know you are perfect. Just as you are. If you want Stoner's attention I can even show you how to get it. Flirt with him, tease him. Not by changing yourself though. You don’t need to do that for him or any man. I know that for sure.” He jerked up his chin when she parted her lips to object. “I heard you. This is for you. I’m just reiterating. There’s no need for it. But this is your decision, and I’ll support it. But, Michelle, this...”
His hand thrust in her hair, his nails scraping over her scalp before he fisted her hair. Her breath caught in her throat, and she barely jailed her whimper before it escaped. The needy sound that echoed in her head sent shock crackling within her like a live wire. Shock and something darker...hungrier... That something shivered through her, setting off tiny ripples that pooled low in her belly.
No. This is Nick, she reminded herself. My best friend.
She blinked up at him, her hands coming to rest on his chest. Was she pushing him back or needing to feel his strength against her palms? God. Why couldn’t she answer that?
“This, Michelle.” He tugged on her hair, the pleasurable prickles dancing across her scalp—another sensory overload adding to the confusion coalescing inside her. “This you’re not changing.” He lifted the strands still clutched in his fist to his nose, and in doing so, drew her forward until her forehead brushed his lips, and she had no choice but to inhale the scent of him from the cradle of his throat. “This is mine.”
This is mine.
Shit.
This was where she should open her mouth and protest. Tell him he was not her owner or her keeper. That she could make her own decisions about her hair, thank you very much. But she didn’t. Not with that possessive declaration of “this is mine” echoing in her head—and between her legs —like a molten heartbeat.
“Where are we going again?” she whispered.
For a long moment, he didn’t speak or release her. But then he shifted backward, his grip on her curls loosening.
“I told you, a place recommended by a friend. Now, where are you parked? I’ll go get my car so you can follow me to my place. We’ll drop your car off there, and you can ride to the salon with me.”
“A friend?”
Like the friend he’d probably left, tangled in sheets and smelling like him and the sex they’d had all night? Okay, she really had to get a grip. Because again, best friend.
“Yes, a friend.”
“Okay.” Heat tinged her cheeks. “I’m parked down there.” She pointed toward the other end of the street. “I’ll just meet you at your house.”
Without waiting for his agreement, she turned and strode off. Time by herself. That’s what she needed. Time to calm her nerves, get centered. Cancel her original appointment. And then, maybe she needed to examine the dregs of that morning coffee she took. Because there must’ve been something extremely funky in the cup she’d grabbed this morning. Nothing else explained her responses to Nick in the last few minutes.
Or the tight ache pulsing deep inside her.
____________
Nick murmured a thank-you to the waitress as she set vodka and Patrón tequila on the table in front of him and Michelle, along with glasses, cranberry juice and a bucket of ice. She smiled at him, and he recognized and acknowledged the invitation in it with a dip of his chin. Not that he’d do anything about it.