Page 40 of Passing Notes
“I’m listening,” I said into my arm. “And I’m so sorry for being selfish this morning. I’m hungover, I’m probably going to barf at some point, and I’m cranky as hell, that’s my only defense.”
“Don’t apologize, I’m not exactly fun to be around with a hangover either. If I’d had even half a clue back then I would have fought for you, for us.”
My head popped up. “Oh, Nick. I’m so sorry, I?—”
He held up a hand. “No apologies. We were kids, Clara. What do eighteen-year-olds know about life? Jack shit, that’s what.”
“You have a point. Clearly, I was not my best self at age eighteen. I’m not even my best self right now, for eff’s sake.”
“Hey, I’m not either.” He chuckled. “Don’t beat yourself up, baby. It’s pointless. I spent my first year at college drunk as hell because all I could think about was missing you. We had no idea what we had with each other. I’m beginning to think we were a classic ‘right person, wrong time’ scenario. It took a whole lot of trying to cope with more than a decade of shit to make me see what I lost when I let you slip away. You said it yourself last night, remember?”
“Yeah, I wanted to feel it again,” I whispered.
“And did you?” The anger was gone, replaced by the sweet Nick I used to know, but he was still just as sexy. Obviously, I was into him again. Still?
“I—”
He pressed a fingertip to my lips. “Don’t answer that. You said you weren’t ready, and I want to honor your feelings. I’m not here to push you. I’m here to take care of you because you need it, okay?”
“Thank you. I really do feel like hell. I’m never drinking again,” I groaned. “Like, I can’t believe how much I could put away back in high school and not feel it. It’s ridiculous.”
“I’m glad you made it through. High school was rough.”
“You were a lot of what got me through. I need you to know that.”
“Oh Clara, I wish I could have done more?—”
“Like you said, we were kids, right?”
“Yeah.” He ducked his chin and looked up at me through his lashes. “So, are we okay?”
“For now, I guess. If I didn’t drive you away with my hungover ranting.”
“I don’t know what it says about me, and I don’t care, but I think you’re hot as fuck right now. The more attitude you throw my way, the more into you I get.”
“Maybe you’re a little bit crazy too.”
“You have no idea.” He stood, gathering the remains of our breakfast and putting it all in the bag. “I want you to get back into bed. You need rest.” He handed me a huge bottle of water from the bag. “Take this with you and drink as much as you can. Hydration is key.”
“You’re a bit bossy now, aren’t you? Honestly, I find it a turnoff.” Typical male, thinking he could tell me what to do. I was not into that.
Lies! It was hot as hell and that damn smirk on his face told me he knew it.
“Bullshit. You love it. You need someone like me around to take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself,” I said in my most derisive tone. “Been doing it for years.”
“Of course you can, but that’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“I don’t know any such thing,” I muttered.
He stood to leave. “I’ll text you later. I’ll bring dinner by if you’re awake.”
“Whatever.” I stood too, then sighed. “I mean, thanks, I suppose.”
I walked him to the door.
“See you soon, my grumpy little heartbreaker. Go back to bed.” He grabbed me by the back of my neck and dropped a kiss to my forehead. “Try not to think about what it would be like if I came up there to tuck you in,” he murmured before turning around to leave.