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“Nervous?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“If it makes you feel any better, my m...
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“So...
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“I know I’m being silly.” A soft huff is Nick’s on...
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“I’m just wondering how many times a day you apologize for shit th...
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“You’re allowed to feel whatever you wanna feel, querida. If you wanna stay out here a little longer, that’s fine. If you wanna go in and rip the bandaid off, that’s fine too. If you wanna blow off some steam, there’s a punching bag in my shed. And if it’s all too much and you wanna leave, take my keys.”
Stop being so nice to me, I command silently. Stop it before I freaking fall in love with you.
I’m not sweet. You’re sweet to me. Because I like you.
“That mouth of yours is dangerous, you know?”
“I’ve been told.”
Minha anjinha,” he drawls and Sofia perks up. “Time to go.”
that’s all I have to say. The only reason I need to give for him to drop it, to avert his gaze and move on. That’s one of the things I like most about Nick, I think; when it matters most, he doesn’t push.
“You sleep in this or something?”
“Or something.”
“Thanks for letting Sofia hang out.”
“I didn’t mind,” I assure him, my pulse bordering on rapturous when his smile grows. “She’s a sweet kid.”
“You have a go...
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“I ...
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“G...
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“See you tomorrow, querida.”
“Night, Nick.”
“Always saving me, hm?”
His laughter is as warming as any liquor. “Stop needing to be saved.”
“You don’t fucking get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“I’m not sweet, Amelia.” he spits. “I don’t turn up at girls’ houses to watch movies. I don’t buy them lunch or bring them coffee. I don’t let them sleep in my bed or steal my clothes. I don’t get jealous when a guy so much as looks at them. I don’t get in fights with their ex-boyfriends. I sure as fuck don’t introduce them to my mother. I’m not that guy.”
“I don’t unde...
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“Join the fuckin...
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“Sometimes, I find it hard to look at you,” he murmurs, “because you’re so fucking beautiful I can’t think.”
“Thought that the first time I saw you,”
“Pissed me the fuck off.”
“Are you ...
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“Not even a little.”
“Thought I could go out and fuck you out of my head.” I flinch, try to duck away, but he doesn’t let me. “I couldn’t. Didn’t even try. Didn’t want to.”
“You’ve fucking ruined me and I don’t like it.”
“If you’re
waiting for an apology, you’re not gonna get one.”
“I’m not.” Soft, smooth skin brushes my cheek and my whole body tremble...
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I grin, goofy as fuck, but I don’t care. I fucking love that blush, and I love it even more when I’m the reason for it.
“Please,” I dip my head to mumble into the crook of her neck, “don’t go in there like that.”
“Why not?”
“I’m too drunk to get in a fight.”
“You’re gonna fight someone for staring at my ass?”
“Querida, I wanna fight people for staring at your face.”
“I thought all those boxing lessons were so I could fight for myself, hm?”
“Yeah.”
“And so I could spend time with you.”
Drunk Nick is a big freaking softie. A rambler too, and I can’t decide which I like more.
“Gosto mais de você do que desejo.” “I don’t know what that means.” Nick laughs. “Me neither.”
