Inked Page 7

  Lou was scared of just about everyone. Which was why I still couldn’t believe she’d walked into Kill Devil Ink so bravely last week. Then again, it had been for just a small moment and she hadn’t been anywhere since.

  “She gave you a panic attack.”

  “It wasn’t her.” We’d been over this already. About a million times actually. “Mine aren’t triggered by anything. They just happen.”

  “Whatever. I’m going to my room.”

  “You should have dinner with us. Help me figure this girl out. You’re better at reading people than I am.” I took a step back toward the door. I could see now Lou had relaxed some. She was going to be okay. She wasn’t completely happy with me, but she’d be okay. Also, I felt bad for making Amanda wait so long in the car.

  I’d been living with Lou for over a week now. It was already exhausting sometimes—taking care of her, walking on eggshells for her. I didn’t know how much I could push her out of her comfort zone, or if she was even comfortable here at all. Maybe bringing her here was not the right move. But Amanda. I could not miss this opportunity. Every cell in my body was screaming at me—don’t fuck this up.

  I hurried back outside.

  Down the wooden stairs.

  Back to my car in the driveway.

  I opened her door.

  “Hey,” I said, all out of breath.

  “Nick.” She didn’t move out of my car. She sat there, her blue eyes staring up at me, pleading with me somehow. “I don’t know if I should be here.”

  I took a deep, calming breath. It was dark out now, the air thick and black. I could hear crickets chirping. “Why not?” I know we both felt something here. Why not see what it was?

  “You’re a client. A million other reasons. I barely know you. I don’t know what the situation is with your roommate. Or what she means to you. If you’re even over Emma. If you even like me. It’s all confusing. I really don’t like being this confused.”

  “Lou has agoraphobia.” I just blurted it out, when it wasn’t my truth to tell. Somehow I needed Amanda to know and to trust me. “She’s my friend from back home. My best friend, actually. I’m trying to protect her and push her out of her comfort zone at the same time. She’s just a friend. More like my little sister. I’m not over Emma. Not really. Not fully. She fucked me up pretty good earlier this year. Seeing her today did not sit well in my stomach. But every moment I’m with you feels good. Really good, actually. It’s easy being around you. The night we spent together was kind of like breathing fresh air. Fuck, maybe just breathing for the first time. I want more of that feeling. I want to feel okay for once in my life. This is just dinner. Just my house. Well, my rental house. I’m not...”

  I stopped talking because Amanda had tears in her eyes. Did I put them there? Shit, did I say way too much?

  She stood up, making me have to take a step back to move out of her way. She pushed the passenger side door closed. “I want dinner.”

  She did? “You do.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, okay. I’m not really much of a cook—but okay.”

  “Me neither. So anything you make will be an improvement from a normal night for me.”

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. She was amazing. Something about her. So fucking amazing.

  ~ CHAPTER 18 ~

  AMANDA

  Nick was quiet as he made some kind of pasta for the two of us. I sat at the table, waiting on him, taking in his rental house. It was fully furnished, and about five times bigger than my home.

  I held a glass of wine in my hand, feeling a little like a fraud. He’d poured it for me, and I was pretending to sip it. Even not pregnant, I never was one to hold a wine glass in my hand. Mostly though, I’d never sat at a table while a man cooked for me—just waiting on him, while he waited on me.

  Nick finished and he set the pasta plate in front of me. On any other day, this whole meal would have been amazing. But my stomach didn’t want the pasta. And honestly, I shouldn’t even have been pretending with the wine in my hand.

  Nick took the seat across from me. I really got to study him, sitting face-to-face like we were, under the lighting of his dining room. He was handsome, so fucking handsome, why did he have to be so handsome? The line of his jaw, it was sharp as a razorblade. The dark stubble on his face that I knew was rough to the touch, I couldn’t have tattooed it on any better. The Cupid’s bow at the top of his lips, had to make other women blush like it did me. Mostly, the way the blue in his eyes contrasted with his dark lashes, made my stomach swirl each time we made eye contact. Not to mention that smirk on his face. That smirk that was always there. His beautiful half-smirk was going to kill me, going to be the fucking end of me, because I couldn’t breathe when he looked at me straight on like he was doing right this minute. This man was too handsome. It didn’t make any sense that I had his undivided attention right this minute. There was just too much perfection happening in front of me.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  I just blurted it out.

  Fuck.

  I don’t know what made me say it, maybe his pretty blue eyes, but the words just leaped straight out of my mouth. But even worse... was the word vomit that came next.

  “It’s Finn’s baby. It just sort of happened. Before we happened. And yeah. So, yeah. I’m pregnant. Super pregnant. I thought you should know that.”

  Well, that got rid of the smirk on his face. It died in a second. But as calm as ever, Nick reached across the space and took the wine glass from my hand. “If you’re pregnant, you shouldn’t be drinking that.” He took it from me and he brought it to his own lips. He drank down the liquid in only a few quick gulps.

  “I know,” I whispered.

  He finished my wine and set the empty glass down. “So you slept with Finn. Then you slept with me. You sure it isn’t mine and not his?” He wasn’t angry in the least as he asked this, just inquisitive.

  “I’m sure.”

  Why was I lying?

  Why was I so afraid to tell him it was his?

  “How do you know for sure?”

  “Well, I’m three months pregnant. Finn and I were sleeping together pretty regularly around three months ago. I was only with you two months ago. So, simple math.” I bit down on my lip. Why the fuck was I so afraid to admit the truth to him? I wasn’t three months pregnant—only two. It was his. And I’d never once been with Finn like that.

  “Okay.” He grabbed his own glass of wine and, in another couple gulps, finished that one as well. Then he sat back in his chair, pushing his pasta away, staring directly at me. “Where does that leave you and me? Are you dating Finn? Are you with Finn?”

  “No. And no.”

  A ripple moved over his jaw. He breathed out through his nose.

  I moved my hands to my lap. They were trembling so hard—I didn’t want him to see.

  He breathed out heavily again.

  Should I ask him to take me home now? Was our night over? Did he hate me now?

  “So I fucked you while you were already pregnant? With another man’s kid?”

  My chest tightened. “Yes.” I swallowed. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. I’m not criticizing you. I’m trying to straighten out the facts. Are you going to try with Finn? Try to be with him?”

  “No. I don’t want to be with him.”

  “And me? What do you want with me?”

  It felt like I was strapped up to a lie detector test.

  Nick left his chair. He stood up and went to the kitchen counter, he grabbed the bottle of wine, and brought it back to the table. He took a sip straight from the bottle this time as he stood close to my body. “Answer my question,” he muttered, staring down at me from his tall height. “What do you want with me?”

  “I like you,” I whispered.

  “How much do you like me?”

  I could feel my face tingling. His direct scrutiny was about the most intense thing I’d ev
er felt. “Enough that I’m here now instead of anywhere else.” Everything else might have been a lie, but that was the cold, hard truth.

  He set the bottle down on the table. He leaned over me, moving closer to me. His hands went to my face. They were warm. They were gentle. “Do you have a plan with Finn?”

  “I don’t have any plans with him.”

  “Then let me be your plan.”

  My neck was aching from the angle I was staring up at him. I had no idea what his words meant. Let me be your plan. Like he wanted to step in and do this with me even though he believed Finn was the father? Was that what he meant?

  “Come with me,” he whispered.

  One of his hands moved from my neck, over my shoulder, and to my arm. He tugged, wanting me to stand with him. I did. I was still working on wrapping my brain around those words. Let me be your plan. Still trying to make sense of them. If he really, truly meant them then they were the nicest words anyone had ever said to me. My chest was burning because of them. On fire and cracked wide open, exposed and feeling more than I remember ever feeling before in my life.

  I followed him away from the open living room and down the hall. I’d never been more terrified, more curious, or more exuberant, nevertheless all at once, in my whole life. This man—he might just be exactly what I’d always needed.

  ~ CHAPTER 19 ~

  NICK

  I pulled Amanda into the bathroom. Pushing aside the shower curtain, I started the water. Lou was nosey, part of her nature was spying on others, and just in case she was listening right now, I felt I needed complete privacy with Amanda. The locked bathroom door and the sound of the shower, even the humidity from the water, gave me the comfort that I had the privacy I needed.

  I moved my hands back to Amanda’s neck. I pressed my forehead to hers. The way she stared up at me, like she needed me so completely, was dependent on each word that came out of my mouth, had me wanting to drop to my knees for this woman.

  She had Finn’s baby inside her. Maybe a better man would have pushed her to go to Finn, pushed her to try with him, but I wasn’t that man. The only thing I felt when she’d told me the baby was his—was this fear of losing her. She wasn’t even mine to lose. But whatever I had with her; I couldn’t give it up. I’d spent only that one night with her. But I couldn’t help the way I felt. Or the way I couldn’t let her go.

  Now... I wanted to kiss her so bad, I was vibrating with need. “Is it a boy or a girl?” I muttered.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Have you been going to the doctor?”

  “I’ve had a couple appointments.”

  “Good.” I swallowed.

  I stared at her for a moment. The steam from the shower made everything grow warmer. I couldn’t bring myself to turn it off. Hell, I couldn’t even break eye contact with her.

  She must have felt the same heat growing too because she whispered, “Why’d you turn on the shower?”

  “I needed privacy with you.”

  I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

  “Nick.” She moved her hands to my face. She ran her fingers over the stubble I needed to shave. I wanted to kiss her, more than kiss her, but I resisted making that move because... was it wrong? Was it wrong to want to be inside her now when I knew she was pregnant with someone else’s kid? Because I wanted her exactly the same way I’d had her that first night. The thickening humidity in the air wasn’t helping. Anxiety bubbled under the surface of my skin, and the fear that a panic attack might overwhelm me right this moment was also there. But I ignored it because everything else was more important than any of my normal fears.

  “I really like you, Nick,” she muttered. She touched her lips to mine, carefully. I didn’t move to kiss her back, not yet at least. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night we were together.”

  She was going to be my undoing. Words like that... mixed with how amazing her body felt close to mine. “Same,” I muttered. Thoughts of her hadn’t left my mind since that day, either.

  Fuck it.

  Why fight it?

  Right?

  I pressed my lips to hers, and I took the kiss I’d been so desperately craving. She felt good—so damn good. Her lips were soft, warm, and her mouth opened to mine. I tasted her tongue. I dug my fingers into her pretty pink hair. I couldn’t hold on to even a shred of self-control. I lost it all the moment my tongue met hers.

  She had her hands on my stomach. She pushed up the fabric of my shirt, working to get it off of my body. My mouth only broke from hers for the small moment it took to get it over my head. I let it fall to the floor and then I made quick work of getting her undressed.

  In seconds she was down to her bra and panties, while I was down to only my boxer briefs. I pulled back, biting down hard on my bottom lip, moving my hands to my hair.

  “Let’s slow down,” I muttered. My heart was racing about a million miles an hour.

  She nodded, looking almost ashamed.

  I wasn’t ashamed of anything. I just needed a moment to breathe, and to settle my spinning head. If I thought too much, I was afraid of the consequences that might follow. I wanted to believe my panic attacks came and went randomly, without much to do with anything at all. But maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe, when my head started spinning, maybe that had a little bit to do with their onset.

  “Can we do this again tomorrow?” I asked. “Same time. I’ll pick you up after work. I’ll cook you dinner. I’ll try harder to keep my clothes on.”

  “You want me to go now?”

  Actually, no. But something about this entire conversation had my fingertips tingling, had my vision going a little spotty, had the blood pumping just a little too hard through my ears. “Do you want to stay?”

  “Not if you want me to go.”

  “I don’t want you to go. I need you to go. Tomorrow’s better.” I moved over to the shower, hitting the faucet to turn off the water. I took her hand in mine, not bothering to pick up my clothes. I know what I’d just said. But even I couldn’t follow my own request. I led her out of the bathroom, down the hallway, hardly caring that we were walking around in our underwear. Lou’s room was on the top level, so I knew she wouldn’t see us.

  “The lights stay off,” I muttered. I tugged her into the dark of my room. I locked my door behind us. “Our clothes stay on,” I added, for what little clothes we had left. I pulled her over to my bed. I knew I had only a few precious seconds left. I pushed down the covers and tugged her into bed with me. Then I curled into her body. I shut my eyes tight.

  This wasn’t sexual.

  I might have wanted it to be, but my anxiety was about to get the better of me. She was about to see just how fucked up I really was. All the signs were there. The debilitating fear, the rush of adrenaline, the tightness in my chest, the pressure in my head. In three more seconds, I’d be having a panic attack. And Amanda was about to witness everything.

  ~ CHAPTER 20 ~

  AMANDA

  Nick rolled away from me, his muscular back to me like a wall in the dark. His breathing changed—it became heavier. At first his breathing was only slightly heightened. But the change was quick. It became out of control, panicked, and I could feel pain behind each breath.

  Whatever I’d witnessed happening to him in the parking lot last week, something I thought maybe I’d imagined or read too much into, was happening to him again now. Which meant I hadn’t imagined the incident in the parking lot at all. I’d seen something then just like I was hearing something now.

  It terrified me.

  I didn’t know how to help.

  Or how to react.

  What to say.

  What not to say.

  If I should run and get help.

  If I should stay near him.

  I touched my hand to his back as gently as possible. I wanted to hug him, but I was afraid to—afraid he might push me away. But as I lay there feeling useless, I decided I had to try someth
ing. I moved to my knees, scooting closer to his body, and I leaned over him.

  He didn’t embrace my awkward hug, nor did he push me away. I hovered over him, digging my fingers into his arm, my heart racing all the while.

  All I could think was how many times had he suffered through one of these? I wanted to ask, but my mouth wasn’t able to form the words. A few minutes passed like this until finally something in him relaxed and his breathing slowed. Just like that, whatever it was, it lessened.

  It occurred to me then that maybe I’d just violated his space when he was at his worst. Maybe he hadn’t pushed me away because he was too paralyzed to push me away. Fuck. I began to move, but he caught my arm, not letting me leave.

  “Stay,” he muttered. “Stay, please.”

  My heart warmed at those simple words.

  “Stay the night,” he added.

  The only thing his panic attack, if that was what he just had, made me feel was something greater for him. He seemed like such a strong, confident, controlled man. His appearance, his voice, his attitude, even his smile—it all oozed confidence. But I saw a crack in his outer surface, in his shell. I liked that crack. We all have cracks. Cracks make us human. I wanted to see under those cracks and get to know the Nick he so clearly kept buried underneath.

  “I’ll stay,” I whispered.

  I kept my place over him like a blanket. More time passed. Eventually my legs started to lose circulation. I had to move. I lay back against his sheets. He moved then, rolling over and into me. He squeezed his arms around my waist and pulled me firmly, flush up against his warm, solid body, my back to his chest.

  “What happened just now?” I dared to ask.

  “Don’t,” he whispered. “I don’t want to talk about it. Just lay with me.”

  I swallowed.

  I had a lot of questions, but I held them in as he held me tight. He ran his hands over my body. He moved a hand to my lower stomach. Did he realize where he was putting his hand, what was there underneath his fingertips?