Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last (28 page)

“
How long was I
out?”

“
Actually, you were out
for a couple of hours. I was getting worried.”

I felt a knot tie in my
gut.
I wonder if Max texted me or
called.
I pulled my phone out from my
pocket—nothing.

“
Well, thanks for saving
me
again
,” I said
as I tossed my phone on the nightstand and wiggled to sit up. I
felt a chill gurgle low in my stomach.

Nick tucked a couple of pillows behind
my back, his eyes asking if he was doing the right thing. With his
arms around my shoulders, his face so close to mine, I could feel
the heat of his breath warm my cheek.

“
Thank you,” I whispered.
I wanted to press the side of my face against his lips and stop the
scorching ache in my head. I wanted to feel that I was going to be
okay. I wanted the reassurance that I’d made the right choice. And
I wanted to be told that, eventually, the pain would
vanish.

Nick sat next to me on the bed. I
watched the tempo of his heart speed through the side of his
neck.

“
Do you need a glass of
water? Maybe something to eat? I could have Lupita bring something
up for you.” Nick stroked his hand meditatively across the top of
my forehead, tucking the loose wisps behind my ear and out of my
eyes.

“
I’m okay,” I mumbled
through tears.

“
Really? Because you don’t
look okay. Let me ask Lupita to make you something to eat.” Nick
stood up.

“
Don’t go—” I caught his
hand and pulled him toward me. “I don’t want to be alone,” I
whispered. I didn’t want to be given any time to work myself into
knots about being in this room with all the memories of
Max.

“
Okay, I’ll be here as
long as you need me,” Nick whispered as he sat on the bed next to
me.

I held Nick’s hand the entire time. I
could feel the dampness between our fingers and the chill that
brushed across my hand when he decided to rub his thumb across the
back of mine.

“
Thanks,” I said as I
leaned my head against his shoulder. I felt his face turn into my
hair and inhale. Chills vibrated across my scalp as I felt his lips
press.

“
You’re welcome, Wilson.”
His words were muffled by my hair and I could feel him
shift.

Nick and I are nothing
more than friends. There was a time he wanted more, but he accepted
that I was with Max.

Nick’s other hand caressed the inside
of my forearm.

“
It…it kills me to see you
hurting like this,” Nick growled in a whisper. His dark brown eyes
matched every word he spoke. His hands raged hot against my
skin.

What is this? Am I sending
the wrong message to Nick? He knows I love Max, and that Max is
everything to me.

“
Wilson, you deserve so
much more,” Nick mumbled. Salted tears streamed down my cheeks,
tightening my skin under their tracks. Nick pressed the backs of
his fingers against my teardrops; his fingers cooled my feverish
skin.

Why hasn’t Max called or
texted me yet?

I looked down at Nick and my hands,
before my arm ran cold. Nick pushed his fingers up under my chin
and my eyes met his for a narrow moment.

“
Nick—it isn’t like
that—
”
I choked
on the words.

“
I just wanted you to
know—” he spoke over my bumbling attempt to explain.

“—
I just need a friend,” I
answered.

“
Okay, I’ll be whatever
you need,” he breathed. I felt my heart gallop in the base of my
neck.

Why didn’t Max come after
me? Why did he watch me leave without a fight? Maybe it was his
mom’s words. Nancy will never forgive me for lying to her. What was
I thinking? I knew our lie would eventually bust our relationship
wide open.

“
I think I need to go and
freshen up,” I moaned as I pressed my fingertips to the tops of my
cheeks, drying the remaining tears.

“
Good, then I’ll get you
something to drink,” Nick said, reaching for my hands.

“
You gonna be okay?” he
asked as he pulled me up off the bed.

“
Yep, I just need a
moment.”

I sauntered to the door, waiting for
Nick to lead. Instead, he bounced down the stairs, so I decided to
enter the bathroom across the hall. I pushed the door open and
stared at the huge, brown leather sofa across from the granite
sinks. Familiarity pulsed through my veins as I remembered that
first night with Max—how my tears didn’t absorb into the arctic
cold leather cushions as I cried. I pivoted toward the sinks;
instantly reliving the flavor of Max as he pressed his body against
me and I tasted our first kiss. I felt a crushing, lonely
pain.

Wait, come on; handle this
right now! Freshen up and get the heck out of here. Grow up and
face the facts—Max isn’t going to come for you. He’s lost his dad
and his mom needs him right now. Do I honestly think have a chance
to matter to him right now? Besides, how am I ever going to look
Nancy in the eyes again? Not after I outright lied to her and
everyone in his family. They will never trust me again.

I forced myself to belly
up to the sink, look into the mirror, and acknowledge the fact that
I totally looked like shit. My hair looked lifeless and greasy,
like I hadn’t showered in a week. Huge, dark circles clung under my
puffy eyes, and my skin looked a shade paler than usual. With my
eyes red and swollen from crying, I looked like I’d suffered the
most horrific case of Pink Eye ever.
Holy
crap, I’m a mess.

I pulled on the corner of the mirror
in hopes that a medicine cabinet happened to be hiding behind it.
Thank God my instincts were right—I grabbed a brush and tried to
make myself look presentable enough. I splashed cold water across
my cheeks in an attempt to clear away the tear lines pulling on my
skin, maybe even relieve the burning sensation crowding the corners
of my eyes.

I thought about my
birthday and how hard Max had tried to make it so special.
The helicopter ride…Frank was so funny, thinking
he knew I’d hate it. Well, actually, he was right. But that sexy
limo ride; God, I could’ve gone all the way in the back of that
limo. Maybe we should have. If we’d had more time I think we would
have. Naw, as much as I wanted Max, I’d probably regret having my
first time be in the back of a stretch limousine.

Should I regret being with
Max? I don’t think so—no I don’t. Maybe it wasn’t right to do it so
soon after his dad died…no, still don’t regret it. It was so
intense, and he was so totally perfect.

Why did I leave? Maybe I
shouldn’t have. No, I had to—I broke Nancy’s heart with my lie.
What choice did I have? I can’t bear the fact that I let her down,
and took away any part of her grieving for the death of her
husband.

Why hasn’t Max come for me
yet? I know I left, but he is supposed to love me. Why isn’t he
here? I crushed him. Maybe, he feels it’s really over. Come on,
Wilson, give it up, he just lost his father. Wake up. You are not a
priority in his life right now.

I stepped back from the sinks and
stopped staring into the mirror. I didn’t feel so good. My stomach
twisted into knots and my legs felt like they were bricks, loosely
stacked, detached from my hips. I tumbled backward and felt my body
land heavily on the brown leather sofa. I guess my grunt was loud
enough for Nick to hear.

“
You okay, Wilson?” Nick
asked, tapping on the door.

Suddenly, the familiarity of being in
this bathroom when I was rejected by Max, the first time, came
flooding back over me. How I watched my tears plop and puddle
against the leather cushions. How devastated I was when I thought
I’d lost Max, before I even had a chance. How betrayed I felt when
Max finally showed up.

This time it was Nick who came looking
for me first.

“
I’m fine,” I
choked.

“
When you’re ready, I have
your drink,” Nick mumbled against the door.

I cleared my throat. “I’ll be out in a
minute.”

I got up, determined to
stay strong. I pulled my hair away from my face and held it back in
a loose ponytail as I rummaged through the vanity and found a
rubber band. Today, all I had was a half-assed attempt to look
halfway decent as I stretched and looped my hair back.
Shit, I still look like hell.

My thoughts melted into
the memory of Max and when he came back for me—how his hand swept
across my cheek and how, for a flash of time, I was lost in his
touch; how desperate his eyes were as he convinced me I wasn’t just
a weekend fling for him. The words that tumbled so heavily from his
mouth. Our first kiss.
Damn, he tasted so
good.
My butterflies swarmed when he
kissed me, and died when I decided to walk away from him
today.

Tears swelled in my eyes,
pressure built against my chest, and I couldn’t take a
breath.
Have I come full circle in the
cycle of our relationship?
To begin
here and end up exactly where I started burned
harsh against my heart.
Goddamn it, I
don’t want to own this anymore. Urrgghh, stop it!

I stepped away from the
brown leather couch, the mirror, and the sink. I didn’t want to be
here anymore. It was over, the past. It was time to pick myself up
and move on. Just like every other time I’d been disappointed in my
life, my heart rolled up and my head took over.
I wanna go to bed. Yeah, maybe I can sleep it off. Nick’s
hovering by the door, I just know it—where’s Joanie? God, I wish
she was here.

I took a deep breath
before I stepped out into the hall. Surprisingly, Nick wasn’t
waiting next to the door like I expected. I looked down the hall
and saw him sitting on the top step of the staircase. I padded
over, sulky as possible.
Damn, he didn’t
turn around.
I watched his slight curls
wave as he sat there. I noticed the dark wood and brass fan, huge
as a hovering aircraft, swirl above him as it hung from the vaulted
beam ceiling. The air circulating across my face and down my arms
chilled me to my bones.

“
Hey, you,” I said as I
plopped down next to him and bumped against his
shoulder.

“
Well, looks like you’re
doing better than I thought. Here,” Nick held out a glass of
something deep orange-colored.

“
Thanks, I guess I am.” I
took a huge swig. I wanted to make sure I could stop the pain
burning down my esophagus. Truth be told, I wasn’t any better than
before. I was good at faking it, that’s all.

“
Hey, better slow down
there, you don’t want to drown in mango and berry blend. Besides,
you don’t know if I spiked it with vodka,” he smiled.

“
Did you?” I almost
choked.

“
No,” Nick looked down at
his hands, “but I brought this in case you wanted me to.” He pulled
a flask out from his back pocket.

“
You always walk around
with a flask in your pocket?” I asked.

“
No, just thought you
might like something to take the edge off. But if it’s—”

“
Just pour a little in
here,” I interrupted as I held up my glass.

He poured a few splashes in my drink.
I swirled it around with my finger then took a swig.

“
Well, how is
it?”

“
Not bad,” I answered as I
stirred the drink with my finger again and held up the glass for
him to take a taste. He glanced at the glass then glanced at my
finger, dripping with the vodka smoothie. Our eyes met and I felt
my cheeks flush crimson. I started to pull my hand away when he
caught my wrist, his eyes locked with mine, and in a heartbeat, my
finger was in his mouth. I felt his tongue curl and pulsate as he
swallowed.
Holy shit.
My heart skipped and my groin took notice.

He swished his tongue once more on the
tip of my finger as he slowly pulled my hand away. My finger
dragged across his bottom lip, causing it to roll and pull. I
shuddered and felt my eyes burning, unaware that I’d forgotten to
blink, and I felt my body react and lean toward him.

“
Not half bad,” he said,
breaking the trance he had me under. I swallowed hard and he took
notice. “Maybe I shouldn’t—I’ll be right back,” he said as he shot
up and hopped down the stairs without looking back.

“
Oh…well…okay,” I mumbled
before I took a massive gulp of my drink to cool the raging desire
surging throughout my body.
What the hell?
What was that? He sucked on my finger.
I
sat there a minute, replaying the image of what happened and
wondering…should I follow him downstairs.

I decided to do what was in my best
interest and head to the guest bedroom. I knew that if I followed
Nick downstairs I might do something I would regret. I was hurting;
pained by the fact that even though Max was grieving the death of
his father and the pressures of his family, he hadn’t attempted to
contact me.