Page 53 of Worth Every Penny
She splutters a laugh. “So glad you’re here.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I smile and she smiles back, wiping her eyes, and the moment feels… tentative. Like the tiniest of shifts between us.
“Maybe I’m overreacting,” she says. “But sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who cares that he’s gone.”
“You know that’s not true.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. I still feel alone in it, though.”
Her gaze holds a thousand unspoken words, and even though I don’t know what any of them are, they tug at my gut. I have no idea if my presence helps. Maybe I’m making it worse. A stillness creeps into the space between us.
“You’re not alone,” I tell her honestly. “I’m here.”
“God, of all the people…” She gives a half-hearted laugh. “It has to be you.”
Something twinges in my chest. “Sorry.”
She sighs. “Mum didn’t even ask me if I wanted anything. She just… got rid of it all.”
“It’s not gone. It’s in storage. I’m sure we could get something out if you wanted. We could find out where they are; swing by the unit—”
“Why do you keep saying ‘we’? This has nothing to do with you.”
“I didn’t…” I let the words fade, unable to express that I hadn’t realised I was saying ‘we’ at all.
In the silence that follows, Kate puffs erratically, causing her breasts to shift under her t-shirt. The motion draws my gaze, and I trace the soft outline of her nipples beneath the fabric. I raise my eyes to her mouth, where agitated breaths draw through full, pink lips.
I want to kiss them, to press my mouth hard against hers. The urge to take her in my arms and fuck the hurt right out of her is all-consuming. Without thinking, I step closer and her scent spins around me, more potent now than it was in the car. Roses and vanilla, sweet and thick, dragging heat up my legs, through my hips.
“Don’t,” she whispers.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
My insides compress. “Like what?”
“Like I’m another notch you can add to your bedpost.”
The air pulses like a heartbeat. “You’re not a notch, Kate. You could never be a notch.”
A delicate pink blush washes over her cheekbones. “Then what am I?”
Shit. This isn’t how this conversation was supposed to go.
“Come back downstairs,” I say, holding out my hand. She stares at it. Her fingers twitch like she wants to take it, but shedoesn’t. “Have a drink. A swim. You can unpack later.” I nod at the discarded bag at her feet. “Let’s not fight in the stairwell.”
Awkward seconds pass, neither of us moving, before she jerks her chin at me. “Why don’t you call me Little K anymore?”
“You said you didn’t like it.”
Kate accepts this explanation without comment and slides her hand into my outstretched one. The contact sends a spark of electricity up my arm. Her fingers are small and warm against mine, and so soft that I never want to let go. I lead her back down the stairs. The silence is crushing as we descend, but when we reach the bottom, she tugs on my hand.
“Nico?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s going on?”