“Then why do you keep trying to leave?” A sadness flashes across his eyes.
His question shocks me as though I’ve been tased. “What?”
He sighs heavily, and I suddenly want to rub his shoulders, take some of the weight from them.
“Stop trying to move out.” He makes an animal-like snarl. “Just stay. Live with me. Make this our…for-now home.”
Our for-now home.
The words ping around my mind until they eventually sink in. “You want me to stay…” A million butterflies take flight in my stomach.
“Stay forever,” he says. But that’s not what floors me; it’s the truth burning in his eyes.
I don’t know that there’s anything I can do or say to express how much him wanting to share his home, his gym, his life with me, means. So I do what I do when I can’t find the words. I nod and look away.
Nick chuckles, kisses my forehead, and then head-butts me. “Dove, you gotta give me the words. I need to know what you’re thinking. I’ve just asked my girlfriend to move in with me. Yeah, it’s fast, but I don’t give a flying fuck. I want you. You want me. We’re happy. The end. Okay?”
I laugh in the space of our little huddle. “Okay, Nick. I’ll stay.”
He grips my hair harder, tugging on the roots, which has the instant effect of me focusing on nothing but him—his voice, his nearness, only him—and kicking my arousal up a hundred notches.
“You’ll stop talking about moving?” He tightens his fingers at my scalp.
I inhale and then form my response so he knows I’m serious. “No more. That’s it. I’m fully living with my boyfriend.” I’m incapable of holding back the smile saying that to him brings.
He turns his face to the ceiling, arching his body closer to mine so more of him is pressed against me. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Fuckin’ A. I thought you’d never quit talking about it. How’s about you consider buying something else?”
The suggestion weaves through our plastered bodies, and I nudge back to search his eyes. “Like what?”
He shrugs noncommittally. “Whatever floats your boat. You want to start looking at businesses or doing something with your degree, look around. What makes you happiest right now? What gets you excited to get out of bed? What would better you and the lives around you?” He removes his hands from my hair and drags them down my back to squeeze my hips. “When you find that, scoop it up and make it yours. It’s what I did.”
Nick backs away from my body and physically closes my legs on a groan. “Hate to shut the gate to heaven, but I’ve got a member coming in for private boxing lessons. You good?”
“Yes.” I smile, truly feeling the effervescent sensation that everything is just and right in my world. “Really good. Roomie.”
He cups my cheek and kisses me long and hard before pulling away. “I’m glad you’re staying.”
“Me too,” I say as he makes his way to the door of his office.
“See you at home?” He winks and grips the handle.
His excitement and humor make me brave enough to say what I’m thinking. “See you at home, my love.”
“Love that, Dove. Keep it up.”
“What?” I clasp both of my cheeks, smiling, and run my fingers through the hair he messed up with his big man paws.
“Your smile. It could change the world.”
I close my eyes and let him leave, or I wouldn’t have been able to.
When he’s gone, I flop very unladylike into the office chair and slowly spin around in circles. The questions he asked are running a track race around my mind.
What makes you happiest right now?
Nick makes me happy.
What gets you excited to get out of bed?
Nothing. Nick is walking sex on legs.
When I have to get out of bed, though, working for Nick in the gym gets me moving. Managing his administrative needs, his money, maintaining the work behind the man and what he does here.
What would better you and the lives around you?
Now that’s the question I don’t have an answer to. I lift a pencil up and worry it against my bottom lip.
What would better Nick’s life and therefore my own?
His happiness is paramount to me. Making him proud, showing him what I can contribute to our shared lives and this new relationship. I want to hold on to him more than anything.
Maybe I need help?
“So what you’re saying is, you and my brother straight-up shacked up…already.” Grace shoves a hunk of salad into her mouth, dropping bits of nuts and a tomato in the process.
I close my eyes, not wanting to answer her question but also not wanting to see how horrible she is at eating leafy greens.
“No. Well…” I start.
Monet puts her hand on mine where I’m clutching my napkin in a death grip. “Honor, you did just inform us both that you and Nick have decided to share space, as you put it. Am I correct in that statement?” My friend sits back and rubs her very pregnant belly in circles.
I tap the stem of my wineglass a few times while I get my bearings. “Yes,” I answer flatly.
“And how is that not shacking up?” Monet smiles widely and takes a sip of her ice water.
“Told you!” Grace points at me with her fork, no longer dangling food off it, thank God.
I frown. “I guess it is. Okay, technically, Nick and I have agreed to live with one another. But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.”
Grace snorts around her bite of garlic bread. I swear, that girl…
“Let’s talk about how ecstatic Ma is going to be when she finds out that you’ve moved in with Nicky. This is going to be an epic Sunday dinner! I can’t wait!” Grace shimmies in her chair, bouncing happily through life without a care in the world.
Crud. I hadn’t thought about the fact that Nick would
