Crown's Chance at Love (26 page)

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Authors: Mayra Statham,Nicole Louise

BOOK: Crown's Chance at Love
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“Yeah, even then…  what did he say?” he asks, his voice curious yet wary.

“Nothing that matters. I know what I am doing, believe it or not. We are getting to know one another right?” I’m not sure why I am coming off bitchy.

Maybe it is a mix of my own insecurities and Nick’s own observations. I was bringing this man around not only my friends, but my children. I am starting to doubt myself with how well I know him and whether I should be getting as close as I am.

“Yeah… umm do you want more?” he asks, his voice completely hesitant. So hesitant that it stings, proving that he isn’t anywhere close to being ready for anything more than whatever we were doing. Dating limbo.

“I’m okay with what we have now. No expectations right?” sounding slightly bitchy, I close my eyes, trying to brush off the hurt feelings.

“I mean, we are getting to know one another, it’s been great. You know I like you…”

“And I like you Sabrina… too much.”
Too much.
What the hell did that even mean? It almost felt like he was playing me for a moment.

“What does ‘too much’ mean Mike?” I ask, frustrated and confused. I had never been good at dating and playing games. Mike saying things like that somehow feels like a game. A game only he knows the rules to.

“It means you are getting under my skin. I want you to know what I bring to the table before we take it to another level,” he says sounding so sincere I want to believe him whole heartedly, but there is something in the way that he worded it that won’t let me. It leaves me feeling unnerved.

“Are you sure it isnt the other way around?” I ask taking a deep breath waiting to hear his answer.

“What do you mean?” His voice is deep, slightly confused.

“Are you sure it isn’t the fact that you want to make sure you can handle everything I bring to the table?” I ask nervously, knowing that this conversation can go really bad really quick.

“No. Thats not it at all. Sabrina. What would make you think that?” he answers without hesitation and I believe him.

“Nothing never mind…” I try to somehow sweep the question under the rug. Suddenly feeling slightly overwhelmed, doubting what I thought I knew about him.

“Baby, everything you bring to the table is a good thing.” His deep voice comes across the phone snapping me out of my own thoughts. Taking in his words, letting them wash over me, I’m just not sure if I believe him.

“Okay,” I say, knowing it had come out colder than I had intended.

Maybe it was the fact that I had been out in the sun all day, or the stress of him meeting my friends, maybe it was chasing the kids all day, maybe it was Nick’s reaction to Mike, or maybe it was a mix of all of it,but I suddenly felt completely exhausted. Exhausted and drained.

Something in my gut tells me he isn’t being completely upfront. He is single, successful, and handsome. What is it that he brings to the table that he thinks I wouldn’t like about him? What is it that I am supposed to be weary about? Something doesn’t add up. I feel like I am missing something.

“Okay? Just like that?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah just like that. “ I repeat his words and sigh. “Look it’s been a long day. I think I am just a little tired. I should go to bed, I’ll  talk to you tomorrow, okay?” I tell him without thinking, just letting the knee reaction of putting space between us flow through me. I had only done that once before with him, and that had been when he had gone to that dinner with the pretty actress.

Since then, we had talked every single night until one of us fell asleep. Every night since the day we had met. Every single night. Even when he had been out of town. Every night had been full of whispers, of getting to know one another, of wishing that we were in bed together. However right now I need my space. Space to think about everything Nick has said, and about what I am feeling. Even if I know that space I need will only lead to a night of tossing and turning.

“Oh okay. Yeah I should let you go to sleep,” he says sounding a little cold and angry.

I can’t blame him. It had been such a perfect day and now here I was ruining it. I wanted to take my words back, hating that I was making him upset, but I just can’t. So instead of apologizing, I say good night, and he mumbles it back quickly ending the call.

Confused, angry and sad, I wanted to throw my cell phone against the wall completely frustrated with Mike’s ominous mumblings, and the games he seemed to be playing. A small part of me wanted to give into tears, I just wasn’t sure what I would be crying about. With neither of those two things being productive, I decided to get into bed.

An hour later, sleep wasn’t an option. My mind filled with so many thoughts. I turned to face my nightstand, switching the small nightstand lamp on, and I couldn’t help picking up the frame that sat there.

Looking at it, my fingers trace his face. In the past it had hurt so much to look at his face, I had to put the frame face down because all the words I had never had a chance to say always lodged themselves in the middle of my throat choking me, killing me. It had killed me to look at his picture. Staring at his whiskey colored eyes right at that moment didn’t hurt, didn’t choke with unsaid words.

Now I looked at him and I could smile. I could smile and no tears were rolling down my face silently the way they had hundreds of times since Sean had died. As I looked at his picture, his handsome face, slightly rugged with a five o’clock shadow smiling back at me the way he had a million times, I smiled back.

I smiled at everything we had had a chance of accomplishing together, instead of what we missed out on.

I smiled at what we had been able to do. What we had created together.

And for the first time in a really long time it didn’t hurt to look at him. It didn’t hurt to think about him. Not an ache, not one ache or sting of pain as I stared at him. I missed him. I would always love him. But I knew I had to keep living. I also knew why it didn’t hurt anymore.

Mike.  

Lying on my back staring at my ceiling fan spin, I can’t seem to stop thinking about him. I want to know what it was that was holding him back. Part of me felt like I was somehow overreacting. We had just met a couple of months ago. Was I rushing things?

Getting out of bed, I walk to my phone that is charging by my vanity. Holding it in my hands, I stare at it. God I want to talk to him. I scroll to his contact information, but can’t seem to get myself to press
call
. I pace back and forth in my room from my bed to my closet and back. All I have to do is press
call
… but I can’t.

I wanted to be in front of him to have this conversation. He was a master at hiding his feelings and expressions, a poker face professional players would envy. But even then I was somehow getting to know him or at least under his skin enough for him to let me in and give me glimpses of things. Throwing my hair in a high bun, slipping on a fitted zip-up hoodie, my phone in the hoodie pocket, I left my room.

Knocking lightly on Nick’s door, I heard him mumble for me to come in.

Opening the door to the dark room I take in the way the moonlight streams in from the open window, the curtains shifted aside and Nick in bed.

“Hey you okay?” Nick asks as he shuffles up to sit against the headboard of the bed. I watch as he leans his body towards the nightstand switching on the small dark brown lamp. The cozy guestroom filling with soft light, I take in the sight of him in bed. He was shirtless, his chest chiseled, lean but strong. So many women’s idea of perfect man candy.

Sleepy brown bedroom eyes, rumpled wavy brown hair that you could run your fingers through, strong stubble filled jaw that reminded you of Ben Affleck, I couldn’t help but sigh at the vision of him. It did nothing for me. I could appreciate his beauty, but my body had no sexual reaction to him.
How much easier would dating be if I could have somehow fallen in love with my best friend?

“Yeah… Umm do you mind staying here with the kids, I need to run a quick errand,” I tell him, my voice a little nervous.
Was I really thinking about going to Mikes? Unannounced?

“Errand?” his lips slightly twitch, and I know he is trying not to laugh. Raising his eyebrows, staying quiet, I know he wanted me to give him more details. Nervously I play with the zipper of my hoodie and then look up at him.

“Yeah an errand.”

“It’s almost midnight,” he says as his sleepy eyes are completely amused and dancing, his lips giving a small smug grin.

“I’m going to go talk to Mike. I’ll be back before morning. He lives about fifteen minutes from here.” He raises his eyebrow and glances to the digital clock next to the lamp, looking back at me.

“Before morning huh?” he says, not hiding how amusing he finds this.

“Nick…”

“Okay. Just…” he starts to interupt me but I cut in.

“I know be careful,” I say finishing off his sentence, and he smiles at me. Then his face gets serious.

“Yeah. And umm do you need protection?” he asks awkwardly and I raise an eyebrow at him slightly confused.

“Here,” he opens the nightstand, and pulling out a bag he brings out two foiled squares. “Just in case,” he tosses two condoms at me and I laugh, slightly blushing.

“You are crazy! I won’t need this.”

“Sabrina,” he says seriously looking amused and like he wants to laugh.

“It’s almost midnight. You are going to a forty year olds’ bachelor pad. Many would think that might sound like a booty call. Let’s be honest. Or who knows you might be right and you might not need those. His thing might not even work,” he jokingly says, laughing and I just shake my head trying not to smirk.

“It works trust me,” I quip back without thinking and he looks at me slightly surprised and very uncomfortable. I can feel my cheeks heat up. Shit.

“You two have… gone there?” he asks but now not only does he look surprised and uncomfortable, he sounds it too.

“No… not really?” I mumble out and he looks like he is about to fall over laughing.

“What do you mean not really? It’s either yes or no,” he says laughing. I knew he wasn’t done.

“Is it a size thing? I’ve heard you and Emmi talk about guys you don’t count from your past because of their lack of size.” I can’t help but laugh at how amused Nick is.

“I just know it works okay, and trust me he is no where lacking in size. Give me those!” I say nervously and slightly aggravated and really amused at the conversation I was having with Nick. Stuffing the condoms to the back pocket of my fitted sweats as he laughs, I can feel my cheeks blush, as I playfully glare at him. Nick’s laughter filling the room, somehow makinging me feel a little better and I smile back.

“I’ll have my phone if you need me for anything okay?” I tell him noting that I had to make sure that Nick and I had a conversation of our own before he left back to Denver.

“Be careful,” he says, and I nod in silent agreement.

Almost feeling like a silly teenage girl, I sneak out of my house in the middle of the night. My heart is beating fast and hard at the thought of going to Mike’s. Slipping into my car, driving in silence, I’m not able to hide the slight tremble in my hands, the butterflies flying in flurries in my stomach or the bright smile on my lips.

 

Mike

He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, but he knew that somehow he had said something that had raised a red flag to Sabrina.

They had spoke until one of them fell asleep every night since they had met.

A routine that now he knew he somehow had become accustomed too. Laying in bed, punching his pillow, fruitlessly trying to get comfortable, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. After a while, he got up to grab a glass of water. Standing in his kitchen he saw a bottle of scotch on the top of the fridge that John had brought over last time he’d been there.  In the last almost four years, he had not been as tempted as he was at that moment to have a drink.

Logically he knew he wasn’t the one who had had the drinking problem.

That had been Patrick.

Yet for some reason he hadn’t drank since having been Patrick’s one call from jail. He grabbed a glass and served some and sat down at his breakfast counter. Sitting on one of the tall leather stools, he stared at the glass in front of him.

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