Don’t Mind If “I Do” by Everly Ashton
Thirty-Four
Mazzy
It’s after dinner before I make an appearance the next day. I woke up mid-morning, but my hangover was so bad, I couldn’t get out of bed. I remember now why I don’t usually drink. Nick was nice enough to come check on me a few times and bring me some greasy food from the diner he likes, but I only feel well enough now to leave my room. After I shower and brush my teeth, I head down to the main floor, but Nick’s gone. Maybe he went out somewhere.
Then I notice music coming from the backyard, so I head back and find Nick in the hot tub with jazz playing on the outdoor speakers. He doesn’t seem to hear me come out, his head tipped back on the inside edge of the hot tub and his eyes closed.
“Hey,” I say.
He startles and sits up. “Hey.”
He meets my gaze, and it’s then I remember our conversation when we returned home last night. The one where I made him promise that we’d talk about us.
“You feeling human again?”
My cheeks heat. “Yes, thanks for taking such good care of me.”
“Lord knows you took good care of me enough times.”
“True, I guess you did owe me.”
He chuckles. I walk to the edge of the hot tub and dip my fingers in the water.
“Why don’t you join me?” He nods toward the water.
“I didn’t pack a swimsuit.”
“You could always wear your bra and underwear.”
I wasn’t sure if he would try to pretend as if last night never happened, but now I know for certain what he’s offering me is an invitation. And though I’m nervous about what the outcome will be, I’m not willing to let this opportunity slip past me either.
So without answering, I peel my black tank top over my head. Thankfully, I’ve always been partial to pretty lingerie, so I’m wearing a black lace La Perla set. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but I think in this instance, that’s a good thing.
Nick sucks in a breath when I toss aside my tank top. When I shove my shorts down my legs, he shifts in his seat. I kick off my sandals and carefully step into the hot water on the opposite side of the hot tub as him.
The bubbles tickle my skin and the heat from the water seeps into my bones, relaxing my muscles. Neither of us says anything for a long time, but we watch each other as jazz plays over the speakers. Eventually the jets stop. The abrupt quiet feels weighted, and I know that now is the time to talk about last night.
Nick starts. “You had me make you a promise last night.”
“Are you going to keep your promise?” I ask.
He nods slowly. “Ask me what you asked me last night.”
“Honestly, I’m not exactly sure what I asked you.” I remember the gist of our conversation but not the actual words.
He chuckles. “I’m not surprised. Why don’t you ask me whatever it is you want to know then?”
I consider being coy or beating around the bush, but we spent years doing that with each other and look where it got us. So instead I ask the question I really want an answer to. The one that means more than the others—why did you kiss me, did it mean anything, do you want me as much as I want you?
“Do you hate me?” I second-guess myself as soon as the words are out of my mouth because the answer might not be one I want to hear. You can hate someone and still be physically attracted to them.
He frowns. “I never hated you, Maz.”
My forehead wrinkles. “But you wouldn’t talk to me. Or see me. We haven’t spoken for years.”
He sighs and stands from where he sits across from me, making his way over to me. Holy hell. This is the first time I’ve seen Nick shirtless in ages and he’s absolute perfection. I had an idea from being at the gym with him—I could tell from his T-shirts that he was fit—but this is another level. My view is cut off when he sits beside me.
“You of all people should understand what a kick in the nuts it was to find you kissing my brother. Of all the people…”
He doesn’t need to explain to me what a contentious relationship they had. I was there for it. While Keith was constantly praised by their father for being his mini-me, Nick was always made to feel less than because he didn’t fit the mold of what their dad thought a Ryan man should be. There were constant comparisons between the two, and Nick always came out on the losing end. And his brother didn’t make it any easier, basking in their father’s attention and using any opportunity to make Nick look bad.
Basically, there was no better person I could have used to hurt Nick.
“That said, I could never hate you. I was hurt by you. Deeply.”
“You know it never went any farther than what you saw, right?” I’ve wondered throughout the years if Nick thought that maybe we had been sneaking around behind his back or something.
He nods. “I know that. And I believe that he kissed you first because I know my brother would use any opportunity he could to hurt me. But still, seeing you kiss him back…” He shakes his head as if he’s trying to erase the image.
I place my hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I won’t ever lash out like that again, no matter how angry I am.”
“I know. And I’m sorry for what I did to put you in that position. It’s true that I just assumed you’d sit on a shelf, waiting until I was ready to pick you up.”
“I think we both took each other for granted.” I let my hand fall from his face, and he catches it under the water, squeezing.
“We did. I don’t know about you, but I’m not into repeating my mistakes.”
I shake my head. “Me either.”
“How about a fresh start? From this point forward, we look ahead rather than behind?”
I’m unable to look away from his blue gaze. “I’d like that.”
He uses the hand that’s holding mine to pull me closer to him, and he leans in until his lips are a breath away from mine. “You mentioned something last night about wanting us to kiss again.”
“I did,” I whisper. “I do.”
“Well then, far be it for me not to give my wife what she wants.”
He threads his fingers through the hair at the back of my head and pulls me in until our lips touch. I sink into the kiss, knowing this will change things between us yet again, but only in the best way.