Cocktails & Dreams (23 page)

Jena wanted to agree with him, to reach up and drag his mouth down on hers, but she couldn’t. He’d kept her hanging for
weeks
, and she was supposed to drop the first thing that she’d done for
herself
because he said to?

No way.

“I can and I am.” Jena yanked her arm from his grasp and headed for the living room. Shoving her wallet in her jacket pocket, she turned to Nick, eyes blazing. “I asked for a
few days,
Nicholas, not to be hung up on and dropped without another word.”

“I didn’t hang up on you. You hung up on me.” A curtain seemed to drop over his face, and a slow smile spread there as he reached out to touch her. “It doesn’t matter. I want to try again, Jena. Please? I just…I got spooked, I guess.”

He looked hurt as Jena scrambled away from him. “Don’t feed me Tom Cruise lines! What’s next? ‘You complete me’?” She snorted, roughly tugging her jacket on. “This isn’t a fucking movie, where everything is tied up neatly in ninety minutes and everyone ends up laughing. You hurt me, Nicholas, and it’s not the first time.” Jena walked to the door, feeling guilty for referencing New Year’s when they’d supposedly gotten past that. “Call me tomorrow if you’re serious and you’re ready to talk. No more joking. No more lines. I’ll talk to you if you call.”

“Jena,
please.
” Nick’s tone was agonized.

Closing the door without looking back, Jena dialed Conor’s cell as she walked down the stairs. As soon as he answered, Jena started talking. “You owe me one, Conor, and so here it is. Keep Nicholas occupied this evening. He showed up as I was getting ready to go out, and it wasn’t pretty.” Jena sighed, finally slowing down, and replayed Nicholas’s last words. He sounded so
lost…
“Anyway, that’s all. He’s with Travis now. Just—just take care of him.” She felt the sob begin to build in her throat and snapped the phone closed before Conor had a chance to hear it.

Jena got to the ground floor as her phone rang. Without thinking, she answered it, and immediately had to hold it away from her head.

“What the hell are you thinking, Jena?” Conor roared.

Looking out the vestibule door, Jena searched the parking lot for any sign of Peter. “It’s none of your business, Con.”

“The hell it isn’t! You didn’t have to sit through that stupid night, but I did. Nicholas completely fell apart. Just…lost it.” Conor’s voice thickened with emotion. “He called himself every evil name in the book, called his parents and told them to fuck off…it sucked. But that was easy compared to when he curled up on the couch like a fucking zombie and didn’t say anything for hours. That was the saddest fucking thing I ever saw, so don’t tell me it’s none of my business.”

Jena leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and trying not to picture the scene. She felt a gust of air, and then a warm arm squeezed her shoulders. Freaking Peter always did have the worst timing.

“Con, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Closing her phone, and pasting on a brilliant smile, Jena wished the night was over already. “Sorry about that, Peter. A friend with a problem.”

Peter rubbed her shoulder briskly. “You were always the best at helping people, Jena.” He looked around. “Why are you down here? I was looking forward to seeing Travis.”

Travis. Crap. He and Nicholas could come down at any time. Jena led Peter toward the door. “Trav had plans tonight, so I thought I’d save you the climb.”

Peter grinned. “See? Helpful. Ready?”

She nodded, and they embarked on the most boring date in recorded history. That actually wasn’t fair, since she paid only polite attention throughout dinner, her mind miles away, in Conor’s apartment. She wondered what was going on, and if Nicholas was okay, and if Conor would ever speak to her again. Jena was a little surer of Travis, since he had to ask her for her half of the rent, at least. Nicholas’s voice kept echoing in her head, and the hurt look in his eyes…

She suddenly realized that it was very quiet, and she looked across the table to find Peter looking at her, twirling his wineglass around by the stem, clearly irritated that she wasn’t listening to him at all. She smiled weakly, not surprised when he immediately asked for the check. They drove home in silence and ended the night with cool goodbyes in her parking lot as she got out of the car and went upstairs to her silent apartment.

Her stomach growled, and Jena realized that she’d eaten almost none of her dinner. Scanning the shelves of the refrigerator, she grabbed some leftover Chinese and settled down to wait for Travis to come home. His inviting Nick to their apartment that night had been completely out of line; it was time for a come-to-Jesus meeting about Travis’s meddling in her love life.

She was well into her second feature in a Christian Bale film festival when a sudden banging on the door made her bolt upright from her lounging position. Moving cautiously toward the door, Jena peeked out the peephole, but all she could see was a brilliant blue eye looking back at her.

Yanking the door open, she was immediately assaulted by whiskey fumes. Nicholas swayed in the doorway, bracing himself against the frame with one hand. Jena stood, stunned and speechless for a minute. He was a mess—hair twisting out at wild angles, shirt half tucked, and eyes blinking owlishly in the light.

“Is
Peter
still here?” he sneered, but quickly dropped his eyes to the floor as pain began to show there. “Shit, bad idea. Sorry.” He pushed off the doorframe and stumbled back a step, muttering to himself.

Stepping forward, Jena wrapped her arm around Nick’s waist and guided him into the apartment. “You didn’t drive here, did you?”

Nicholas leaned his head down until his cheek rested against the top of her head. He jingled the keys in his right hand as Jena maneuvered him to sit on the sofa. “Didn’t even hit anything. I don’t think.” He snort-laughed and lolled his head against the back cushion.

Kneeling on the floor, Jena started to untie his shoes with quick, irritated motions. “What is
wrong
with you, Nicholas? That’s not funny. You could have hurt someone. Or killed yourself.” She paused, closing her eyes and pushing back a vision of his car mangled on a street somewhere, diamonds of glass glistening in his hair…

“I wanted to see you, and Conor wouldn’t bring me over here.” Jena felt Nick’s hand on her hair. The expression in his eyes was tender when she glanced up. “I remember the last time you took my shoes off,” he said.

“Me, too.” She stared at his shins and swallowed thickly before rising with a shake of her head. “Don’t expect anything like that tonight,” she continued in a brisk voice. “I don’t want to deal with the possibility of puke in my hair.”

Nicholas’s startled laugh followed Jena into the kitchen, and she returned with a large glass of water and some ibuprofen. She handed the glass to him and sat down, watching as he obediently drank. He handed the glass back to her with a sigh, and she set it on the floor. “Good date?” he asked.

Jena smoothed the hair back from his forehead as his eyes drooped closed. “Not really. How was your evening?”

“Fucked,” he mumbled, leaning his head into her hand. “Every day is fucked.” He opened his eyes and stared at her longingly. “I miss you, angel.” He raised his hand to lightly stroke her cheek with his fingertips before his eyes drifted closed again.

When she realized that they weren’t going to open again that night, Jena tugged him into a lying position and smiled as he clutched at her hand, holding it against his chest. She sat on the floor next to his head, leaning toward the seat cushion and resting her head next to his. Nicholas mumbled her name, brushing his lips against her cheek. She had started to drift off when the sudden shrilling of her phone yanked her back to awareness.

Before the phone had a chance to ring a second time, Jena snatched it up, walking back into the hall before she said hello.

“Is Johnnie Walker over there?” Conor snapped.

“Yeah. Got here about a half hour ago.” She heard Conor pass on the information, and all hell broke loose. “What’s going on over there, Con?”

“We were trying to distract him and things got out of hand. Is Peter there, or do you want me to come get the assbag? The one time all night I have to go to the bathroom, and everyone else was out on the balcony…” He hesitated a moment before adding, “I’m sorry, Jena. For everything.”

“Don’t worry about it, Con.” There was an awkward pause. “He’s passed out on the couch, so you might as well let him sleep it off,” Jena said briskly, hoping Conor would take the hint that their argument from earlier was over. “Or throw it up, as the case may be. Maybe you
should
come get him. How much did he drink, anyway?”

“Most of a fifth of whiskey. And he’s your problem now, unless you really want me to come get him?”

Jena peeked in the living room and smiled at the gentle snores coming from the couch. “That’s okay. Let him sleep. Travis should be home soon, right? We both have to work in the morning.”

After talking to Conor for a couple more minutes, she hung up. Fetching a blanket from the hall closet, she threw it over Nick before she changed into pj’s and headed to bed. Despite how tired she was, she had a hard time falling asleep. She kept thinking of Nicholas out on the couch and had to fight the desire to squeeze in next to him.

The door opened and closed softly about an hour later, when Travis came home. She jammed in her earbuds and covered her head with a pillow when she heard him helping a moaning, sick Nicholas in the bathroom a couple of hours after that. They got him drunk, not her.

She drifted off to sleep sometime between Nick’s bathroom trips, so she was startled when she sensed someone in her room. She sat up quickly.

“Can I sleep with you, Jena?” Nicholas’s voice coming from the darkness was vulnerable. He stepped closer to the bed, and she could see his outline, a darker shape in the gloom. “I think I’m done being sick, and Travis gave me a toothbrush,” he said quickly. “I won’t try anything, I swear. I just—I want to be close to you.” He let out a shuddering sigh. “I want to sleep.” He shrugged, not seeming to know what to do with his hands.

That simple gesture decided Jena, and she flipped the covers back in silent invitation as she lay back down. Nicholas settled next to her, lying stiffly on his back and carefully not touching her.

“Go back to sleep, Nicholas,” Jena whispered, giving in to the urge to touch his face. He curved his body around hers, resting his head on her chest and breathing out in a rush.

“I love you, Jena,” he said, and his arm tightened around her hips.

So much like the first time he’d said that, but everything had changed.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” she said, stroking his hair until she felt him relax into sleep. Exhausted by the drama of the last couple of weeks, she soon followed.

Waking the next morning, Jena opened her eyes to see Nick’s sad eyes studying her as they lay facing one another.

“Hi,” she rasped, pushing her hair away from her face and smiling at him. “How do you feel this morning?”

Nicholas groaned, and she laughed, hesitantly reaching out to touch his cheek.

He held her hand to his face. “I missed that, Jena. I miss you. I love you.” He looked down. “I know that’s probably too little, too late, but…I need you to know that. I was going to tell you that night at Stevie’s, but everything went to hell so fast that…fuck…” He dropped her hand and held his fingers over his eyes as his jaw tightened and his face worked. “I’m so ashamed of myself. It was my dad, and Sofia…and everyone wanted me to do something, and all I wanted was to be alone with you. I didn’t have the balls to stand up to any of them, and I fucking hate the way I always try to please everyone. And then I saw Stefan touching you, and I lost it.”

Jena tugged Nick’s hand down and folded it between her own. His eyes shimmered with moisture. “The worst part was how I treated you, Jen. I know I don’t own you, no matter what I said in the bar.”

“Nicholas, we really don’t have to go over that—”

“Yes, we do,” he insisted. “I want to be honest with you from now on, and it’s not easy for me, so shut up.” They laughed, and he caressed her cheek. “Out of everything I’m sorry for from that night, and I’m sorry for pretty much everything, that’s the worst. It was a stupid thing to say when I couldn’t even tell you that I love you.” He closed his eyes briefly and then stared into Jena’s. “I want it to be true, though. I don’t want anyone but you, and I don’t want you to be with anyone else. Last night just about killed me. Probably several other people, as well.” Nicholas flopped over onto his back, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

“Finished tearing yourself up?” Jena laced her fingers together on Nick’s chest and rested her chin on them. He looked down at her with surprise and nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry, too. When you didn’t call, I should have called
you
instead of acting like a big baby. Because I do need you, Nicholas.” She twisted his shirt between her fingers, struggling for words. “It scares me how much, and how fast that happened. When you…exploded or whatever…it brought it home that we skipped that whole ‘getting to know you’ part.” She looked up at him, eyes serious and vulnerable. “Is this going to work, Nicholas?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately. Jena felt his fingers tighten convulsively on her shoulder. “It has to. Because I can’t imagine being without you. I swear to God, Jena, that will never happen again. I’m so sorry…so sorry…”

Unable to look at the pain and growing panic in his eyes any longer, Jena scooted up and cupped his face before resting her forehead on his. “Okay,” she said, willing it to be true as she feathered kisses over his face. When she got to his lips, Nick buried his hand in her hair to freeze her there, raising his head slightly to make the kiss firm.

“Thank God for Travis’s extra toothbrush,” she murmured, when he finally drew back for air. Nicholas chuckled.

The sudden shrill of the alarm caused them both to jump. Jena groaned. “I have to work this morning,” she said, stretching her arm toward the nightstand to slap the alarm off before flopping onto her back with her arm over her eyes.