Cocktails & Dreams (24 page)

Nicholas leaned over, dropping a kiss on her neck. “Can’t you call in sick? Dead?”

She kept her arm over her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t be able to look into his eyes and deny him. “Nope. I have to learn to say no to you, Dr. Sexypants. I have to work.” She uncovered her eyes to find Nicholas looking down at her with a sad expression. He raised his hand to trace the shape of her face with one finger, and she caught his hand, weaving her fingers with his. “Thanks for asking me, though. And for not trying to change my mind.” They looked at each other in silence for a minute, smiling. “Tell you what. If you don’t have anything pressing to do today, why don’t you stay here and sleep? I’ll be back in four or five hours. Travis has to work, too, so you’ll have the place to yourself. We can talk more when I get home.”

He turned onto his stomach, burying his head in her pillow and pointedly closing his eyes. “Go get ready for work.” She laughed, dropping a kiss on the back of his head, and closed the door behind her quietly.

Another door cracked open. “Is it safe to come out?” Travis sounded penitent.

Jena recalled her ire from the night before, planning her attack on her traitor roommate. She heard the rustle of bedclothes as Nick turned in her bed and his unmistakable sigh of contentment and reconsidered. “Yeah, I suppose so. Assbag.”

Travis came out of his room with a smile of relief and immediately put Jena in a brief headlock, pulling her sideways and kissing the top of her head as they walked to the kitchen. “I meant well. And look how it turned out.”

Jena snorted and swatted at his hand until he let her up. “You were
supposed
to keep him busy, or didn’t Conor relay that part?” Seeing Travis’s remorseful glance at her bedroom door, she relented. “But, yes, it did turn out okay. So thanks, I suppose.”

“
De nada.
” Travis grinned and swatted her butt. “I swear to God, though, we did everything we could think of to keep him occupied, but he was going nuts.” He pulled a box of granola from the cupboard and poured a generous bowlful, settling down at the table to eat. “Things kind of went south after Conor pulled out the Walker Black, though.” He snickered.

Jena grabbed a handful of cereal and walked toward the bathroom. “I should have known it was Conor’s stupid idea. Do you know Nicholas drove over here?”

“I figured. Interesting parking job.” Travis beckoned her toward the kitchen window, and she groaned when she saw Nicholas’s car parked haphazardly on the lawn.

“Holy crap. It’s lucky he didn’t kill someone.” She turned on Travis. “I want to hear the whole story.”

He grimaced. “I’ll tell you about it later. Suffice to say, mistakes were made.” She grinned and nodded. “At least I made up for my part in the whole fiasco by taking care of Prince Pukes-A-Lot last night.” They laughed quietly. “You get the first shower, and I’ll take care of Nick’s car.”

Jena walked back toward the hall, still chuckling.

“Hey…Jen?” Travis’s voice was hesitant, though he was still smiling. “I promise I’ll never ask this question again, but…are you sure?”

Thinking about the two times Travis had asked that question before: New Year’s Eve and the first time she’d slept with Nicholas in his apartment, Jena smiled. Her answer was the same.

“Fuck, yes.”

A L
ITTLE
A
FTER
E
LEVEN
, when there was a lull in appointments,Travis waggled a sack from the deli downstairs in front of Jena’s eyes. Her stomach immediately began to growl, and she realized that she’d spent what little time she’d had to eat that morning watching Nicholas sleep. Not surprisingly, her appetite was back after the events of the morning.

“That’s what I thought.” Travis smirked, listening to the snarls. “Come on.”

Shutting themselves in their tiny office, they sat and started to eat. After a few minutes, Trav set his sandwich down with a happy sigh. “Much better. You’re having a good day, I see.” He stretched out his legs and smiled.

“Yep.” Jena had felt alert and all there at work that day for the first time in weeks.

“I’m glad to see it. Your patients probably are, too, though that new therapist pulled me aside and asked if you were on something. I don’t think you’ve smiled since he’s been coming here, before today.” He grinned. “Imagine what he’d have thought of your grin if you’d have—”

“Shut up, Travis.” Jena kicked his leg and took another bite of sandwich to keep from smiling. “Asshat.”

“I’m just sayin’. He’d probably have called Dr. Call by now if you’d actually made it.” He covered his head to avoid the folder Jena swung at his head. She couldn’t help laughing herself as she collapsed back into her chair.

Their giggles died down to occasional snorts as they finished lunch. “Trav?” Jena asked hesitantly as he rose and gathered up the wrappers. “Do you really think I need to talk to Dr. Call? I mean, you made me think the other day, you know…about Nicholas’s dad. It wasn’t an issue when I thought…well…Anyway, did you hear how Nick’s call to his dad went?”

Travis sat down in his chair slowly. “I think you need to ask Nick about that, Jen. All I heard from Conor was that it was ugly.
Big
ugly.” He grimaced. Jena suddenly realized that the last couple of weeks must have been hard on Travis, too, between her moodiness and everyone else’s mixed feelings about what happened that night at Stevie’s and afterward.

“Sorry for asking. You’re right. I’ll ask Nicholas later, but in the meantime, I think I’ll make an appointment to talk to Dr. Call.” Deciding to change the subject, Jena asked, “So what exactly happened last night? There were three of you there, for crap’s sake.”

Travis leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. “Well…he was surprisingly crafty for a drunk guy.” He laughed.

“First, I had a hard time getting Nick out of our apartment. He was sure that you’d change your mind and come back.” He shook his head. “He obviously hasn’t met your inner mule yet.” Jena stuck her tongue out at him and took another swallow of her Coke. “Then I convinced him that we should go back to his apartment, but a little while after we got there he started pacing, wanting to know where you were going for dinner. You should thank God that you didn’t tell me, or I would have told him, just for the sheer joy of hearing about the smackdown he would place on Peter. God, I can’t stand that asshat…”

“Do you really want to apply the same name to him that I regularly apply to you, Trav?” Jena grinned, looking at the chart for her next patient.

“Touché. I’ll have to come up with a better term. Anyway, Nicholas was pacing and muttering and what all, and Conor comes up with the bright idea to get him drunk to distract him.” Trav rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like that was going to happen. Pretty soon it became, ‘Please God, let this be the shot that makes him pass out.’ Conor starts reminiscing about home and whatnot, while arguing with Leis about whether you’re the bitch of the century or not.”

Jena sighed, rubbing the spot between her eyebrows. “I hope you defended me, Travis.”

“Oh,
hell
no! I love you, Jen, but Leisa’s my girlfriend and angry Conor scares the shit out of me. I was hiding in the kitchen and peeking out occasionally.”

“Coward.”

Travis was apparently unconcerned about the challenge to his masculinity. “I think of it as living to fight another day, sugar. So, Conor gets Nicholas calmed down and finally gets to go to the bathroom. I didn’t hear any more yelling, so I went back into the living room. All of a sudden—
CRASH!”
Travis emphasized the sound by dropping a box of bulldog clips on the desk; the noise made Jena jump.

“Did you think…” She couldn’t even say it.

“Not unless he’s made of pots and pans and landed in a garbage can, Jen. Holy God, it was loud! A second later—
smash!
Right after the third crash Leisa and I were out on the balcony, heads over the railing and trying to determine what the fuck Nick threw. Conor must have been having an epic crap, because he was yelling from the bathroom about what the hell was going on out there, and then he was in the doorway bellowing about how a guy couldn’t even go to the bathroom in peace, and we noticed Nicholas was gone. Then the shit really hit the fan. Leisa and Conor were screeching at each other about who was the biggest fuck-up and then they both looked at me like
I
was the drunk-guy keeper.”

Jena laughed. “Did you ever figure it out? What he dropped?”

“Yeah. Once Conor talked to you and everything calmed down, we went down and looked. It
was
pots and pans. And that heavy glass pitcher. And maybe a small boom box? Answering machine? We couldn’t quite figure that one out. And they both still blamed
me
, because I dared to leave my cowardly hiding place and venture back to the living room.” Checking his watch, he sighed and rose, pulling Jena to her feet. “Back to work, I guess.”

They each grabbed a chart and headed out the office door. Right before Jena closed it, Travis put his hand on her arm. She turned to see him looking uncharacteristically serious. “Why don’t you go ahead and make that appointment with Call right now, Jena? You can always cancel if what Nicholas tells you is okay, but…Conor was pretty serious about it being bad.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Jena hurried back in the door and made an appointment with Dr. Call’s office, then tried not to think about it again for the rest of the day. It was pretty easy, considering that the closer to two it got, the more anxious she was to go home. When the clock hands finally hit two and twelve, she grabbed her coat and rushed for the door, only to have to wait for Travis. He strolled to the door, grinning and pointedly ignoring Jena’s impatience to be gone.

The ride home was quiet. As the car turned in to their neighborhood, Travis cleared his throat. “So. I thought I’d stay at Leisa’s after the gig tonight, okay? Just in case…”

Jena relaxed and smiled. “Thanks, Trav.” She thought for a minute. “How many times a week are you playing? I’ve been a shitty friend recently, haven’t I? I should know that.”

“You’ve been a little preoccupied, I guess.” He shrugged and signaled to turn onto their street. “Maybe four nights? Five? Depends on the week.” The car rolled to a smooth stop, but Travis didn’t turn the engine off. “Don’t you think you’d better get upstairs, hon? I’m pretty sure someone is waiting for you. Anxiously.”

With a swift kiss on his cheek, she was out of the car and on her way up the stairs. Stopping outside the door, she put her hand on her chest and tried to steady her heart.

For the love of God and all that is holy…calm the hell down!
Jena sternly ordered herself. Taking a deep breath, she held it for a few seconds, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. There. Better.

She opened the door, readying a bright smile, and froze, her careful breathing going all to hell. After the first startled stare, she looked anywhere but at Nick, afraid that her heart would stop if she took in the scene in anything other than small glances.

Her eyes trailed up from his bare feet that rested on the edge of her coffee table as he lounged on her couch, taking in the buttery soft, worn denim of the button fly jeans that she loved on him and the light dusting of hair that covered his shirtless chest. She lingered there for a moment, trying to remember how to breathe as she watched him gently strum Travis’s guitar as it rested partly on his naked stomach and partly on his lap. The tendons in his sinewy forearms flexed as he held the chords, his dexterous fingers coaxing the notes from the guitar and reminding her of the way they could move over her body. His face was serious, absorbed in his playing, and Jena had to drop her eyes when his tongue peeked out to touch his upper lip as he concentrated.

Nicholas chuckled quietly. Raising her eyes to his face, she saw that he was still looking down at the guitar, but with a mischievous smile on his scruffy face. “Am I sensing another ‘holy crap’ moment?” He glanced up, eyes sparkling, and laughed out loud as she reddened. “I’m glad to see you, too,” he said, still smiling as he looked down at his hands, beginning to strum again. “Welcome home, Jena.”

Her heart stuttered. That sounded so good coming from him. “Hi, Nicholas.” She realized that she was still standing in the open doorway and stepped inside so she could close the door. “How was your day? I’m sorry I was gone a little longer than I originally anticipated. Someone called in sick, and I had to cover another half shift.”

“No problem.” Nicholas carefully set the guitar down on the floor and stretched his left arm along the back of the couch. Jena felt her stomach clench as she realized that the top button of his low-riding jeans was undone, and the v-muscles of his low stomach were clearly visible, with no hint of boxers to mar the view. “I just woke up about an hour ago, anyway,” he continued, oblivious to how much danger of attack he was in. “I hope you don’t mind that I used your shower. I felt gross after last night.” Nicholas stopped speaking, a curious look on his face. “Are you ever going to take your coat off?”

Jena walked further into the room, dropping her bag on the floor next to the entertainment center and shrugging out of her coat. Tossing it on a chair, she headed for the kitchen, figuring that was the only way she would stop staring at Nicholas. “I need a drink. Do you want anything?”

He groaned, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the couch. “I don’t plan on ever drinking again. I don’t do it well,” he called into the kitchen. “I would like a glass of water, though.”

“Sure.” Quickly pouring his water and returning the pitcher to the fridge, Jena grabbed a beer for herself, turning toward the living room to see Nicholas pick up the guitar again. Her eyes roved over his damp black hair as it curled against his neck and across the broad shoulders she could see above the back of the couch, watching the minute movements of the muscles there as he played. Jena gulped down the bottle of beer before swallowing half of his ice water as well, thinking that maybe she should just pour it over her head. Of course, thoughts of water on her head brought back her dream of showering with Nicholas.

Then his next words brought her crashing back to earth.

“I had a nice conversation with your mom today.” His voice was nonchalant as he picked out another couple of chords.

Jena’s brain died, but her mouth lived on, as usual. “Holy shit,” flew out.

She could see Nicholas’s shoulders shaking in silent laughter as he looked down at the guitar in his hands.
Sharon and Nicholas on the phone.
Jena seriously debated just walking straight out the door and never coming back.

She put her head on the counter and covered it with her arms. “Do I even want to know what she interrogated you about?”

Nicholas finally let his laughter fly. The guitar thrummed gently when he put it down before entering the kitchen and wrapping his arms around her. “It wasn’t so bad. She seems like a nice lady, and she knew a lot about me, that’s for sure.”

“It’s amazing what’s available on Google.”

“I’m hurt, Jena,” Nicholas teased. “I thought you talked to her about me.”

“That, too.” Jena sighed and turned to hand him his half empty glass. Nicholas smiled, stepping back and leaning one hip against the counter.

“Aren’t you having something? I thought you needed a drink.” He set his glass down and leaned into the refrigerator, scanning the shelves. The motion pulled all of the muscles of his back taut, and the soft jeans rode a little lower. Jena squeezed her eyes shut, willing her mouth, just this once, to behave itself. “Beer?” He paused for a minute. “Is everything all right?”

Jena realized that her eyes were still shut, and she opened them to find Nicholas looking at her curiously, hair falling into his eyes as he held out a bottle. She briefly considered flinging herself on him, but decided to hold off for a few minutes. They hadn’t seen each other for a while, and it might look a little funny to show no interest in whatever he was saying. Jena worked on concealing that she was fixated on his mouth, and the rest was just noise.

“Jena?” Now he really was looking at her strangely. Jena realized that he hadn’t seen her just down a beer in less than a minute. It might look weird if she didn’t take the bottle from his hand after she said she was thirsty.

“Sure. Beer is fine.” Jena popped the top of her Becks and took a deep swallow, surprising herself with a huge belch as she set it down on the counter. “Sorry.”

He grinned and shook his head, leaning against the counter again. “No problem. But I was actually asking you what you thought your mother said.”

Jena looked down at her hands as they twisted the bottle between them, barely restraining a hysterical giggle. “With Mom, it could be anything. Did she say anything about you answering my phone?”

“Does a squeal count as anything? And it sounded like she was tap dancing.”

“Oh, my God,” Jena muttered, finishing the Becks and leaning around Nicholas to open the fridge door and grab another. “Gimme the high points. Low points. Whatever.”

Nicholas laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. She asked me to Thanksgiving dinner, complimented me on my grades as an undergrad, told me your childhood nickname was ‘Twinkie,’ and told me how to cut my hair to make my eyes really pop.”

“Really? Is that all she had to say?” Jena wondered how long it would take Dad to deduce she was behind her mother’s tongue being cut out. Probably minutes. They’d been married for quite a while.