Chapter 64

“He's back at Habitat for Humanity,” Michelle told her, knowing she was giving more information than necessary.

“Hmmm… That's good,” came Candace's reply.

“He got the job as director of the foundation too,” Michelle went on, “And he told me he's starting the work on the studio soon,”

“I see,” said Candace, but she wondered if her sister heard the break in her voice, “Let me know what happens with Nick, will you?” she added, “Talk to him…. And don't make any hasty, bad decisions. I'll be in touch,”

After Candace hung up, Michelle still felt restless, and she couldn't stop thinking about Nick. It was ridiculous; they’d been friends for so long. Yet, that knowledge didn’t stop her feelings from smarting like alcohol splashed on a scraped knee.

Before, she would’ve just asked him about it. Just demanded to know what the hell was up. But that pesky before… Before last night in the club. Before that dance. Before that kiss.

Nope. Not going to think about it. Her first free Friday in weeks, and she intended to stay home, relax and not spend another second dwelling on that… A shiver rippled through her, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip, unwilling to free the moan climbing up her throat. Again. Friday. No date. No pretending she hadn’t buried her tongue in her best friend’s mouth. And liked it… Way too much.

Hell.

There was a knock on the door. Grimacing, she hurried to her front door. Huh. Maybe she should indulge in an action movie binge instead of sexy historical-romance shenanigans...

She opened the door, the delivery person’s tip in hand, ready to exchange it for the pizza she’d paid for online.

“Hi... Nick.” She stared at her best friend, gripping the doorknob. Flutters that she decided to attribute to shock quivered in her stomach. “What’re you doing here?”

“Better question. Why didn’t you ask who it was before answering the door?”

“Look, Daddy,” she drawled. “Not that it’s your business, but I was expecting a pizza delivery.”

“Daddy.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Kinky.”

Laughter tickled her throat, but she crossed her arms over her chest, blocking the doorway. “What’re you doing here? I thought we didn’t have anything scheduled for tonight?” Leaning forward, she pinned him with a glare. “And if you say that we do, I can’t promise you won’t end up in a montage of pictures on ID Discovery as I talk fondly about you from my jail cell.”

He snorted. Cradling her hips in his elegant hands, he shifted her backward as he moved forward until they were both standing in her apartment. He closed the door behind him, then turned to lock it, and she used that opportunity to assure herself her skin wasn’t tingling from that tender but firm clasp.

That night in the club, he’d gripped her like that—gently, but with more than a hint of dominance. Then, electricity had crackled inside her, currents of heat moving through her. She’d flowed with it, letting go and losing herself for the first time in so long, confident and secure in the knowledge that Nick would catch her, protect her. Even as he was the one sending her flying.

Even as the hot, thick weight of his cock grinding against her behind had kept her grounded. And there went those flutters again. Followed by a flood of “what the fuck?”

Nick was her friend. Her best friend. And she didn’t associate him in the same sentence with heat, flutters and cock.

She didn’t...right? Right, dammit. And, yes, she was negotiating with herself.

“At the risk of repeating myself for a third time...” She headed to the kitchen and the bottle of wine she’d bought on the way home to drink with her pizza. Classy. That was her. “But, seriously, what are you doing here?”

“Where else would I be?” He followed her and leaned a hip against the breakfast bar.

“Let’s see.” She tapped a finger to her bottom lip, squinting at the ceiling. “Friday night. You’re single. And you don’t have to escort me anywhere. All that equals freedom.” She smirked, opening the refrigerator and pulling out the wine. “So if you don’t have to hang with me why are you here at my house?”

“First, let’s make one thing clear. I’ve never had to hang with you. This might come as a surprise to you, given your often curmudgeonly demeanor, but I enjoy your company.”

“Spell curmudgeonly,” she muttered, then narrowed her gaze on him. “Isn’t there a party you should be attending? Business associates to schmooze? Beautiful people to entertain? You know… Since you are big boss man now,”

He studied her for a long moment, his bright gaze piercing but shuttered. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me, Michelle,” he murmured.

Guilt shimmered inside of her. How did she explain that for the first time in their friendship, she needed a break from him, from him? It was startling. Disconcerting.

Confusing. And she’d wanted time to find her equilibrium and figure out how to return to the easy familiarity they shared. One not threaded and alive with this awareness. Awareness? Why don’t you call it what it is?

Nope.

Damn. More arguing with herself. She really should’ve bought another bottle of wine.

“That’s ridiculous.” She dismissed his very accurate conclusion with a wave of her hand, then popped the cork free of the wine bottle with a corkscrew. Scooting her glass closer, she focused all her attention on pouring the merlot as if scrying the deep red alcohol for the answers to the universe. “I just would’ve thought you’d want a night off from me.”

“Michelle.” He flattened his palm on the counter near her drink. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she set down the bottle and lifted her gaze to his.

“Are you having second thoughts?” he murmured.

She froze, her hand hovering near the glass stem. Second thoughts? Was she?

Their plan appeared to be working. Stoner flirted with her, not hiding his attraction or his desire to get closer to her. And she would be lying if she claimed not to be flattered by his attention. His brother was handsome, charming…

And yet…