14
Jules rolled over and snuggled into the covers, unwilling to face the morning just yet. She was filled with the lovely contentment that came from being held all night. It was a feeling she’d only ever had when she woke up next to Nick.
Nick. Had that really happened last night? Her entire body hummed with the memory of his touch. She stretched, and every muscle in her body was pleasantly sore.
She couldn’t stop the grin that stretched across her face as she finally opened her eyes to face the day. Nick wasn’t in bed, but the water was running in the shower and he was rapping the lyrics to Young MC’s “Bust a Move.” She laughed when he sang the woman’s part in an enthusiastic, high-pitched voice. She loved that she never knew what to expect from him and that he could always make her laugh.
A few beams of sunlight streamed in through the blinds on the bedroom window. Shit. How late was it? Throwing the tangled covers back, she rose and picked up a T-shirt she found lying on the end of the bed, tugging it on over her head. Retrieving her purse from where she’d dropped it by the front door, she dug out her phone to check the time. She had an hour before she needed to be at work. If she hurried, it’d be just enough time to get across town to her apartment, shower, and dress.
But not without seeing Nick first. Everything between them was so new, and she wanted to touch him and talk to him before the world intruded. She wanted to feel his arms around her again before it was back to work and all the other problems that had made her run from him in the first place. Putting her purse and phone on the nightstand, she walked over to peek between the blinds. She’d been too preoccupied the night before to pay much attention to the apartment complex. There were probably a half dozen two-story buildings scattered around the property with manicured green spaces and rock gardens adjoining them. It was nice. The type of place workaholic, single professionals and travel-bitten empty nesters tended to live. It wasn’t a place to put down roots. A place to live, but not to call home.
Nick’s voice faded and he turned off the water. As she turned to go say hi, a pile of boxes in the corner drew her attention. A couple were half open as if he’d taken out a few things he needed, while the rest were still sealed shut. He hadn’t completely unpacked yet, even though he’d been here for weeks. Actually, none of the furniture in the apartment was the same furniture from his loft in Chicago. This was all neutral tones and clean lines. Boring, inoffensive furniture that was probably included in the rent.
She wondered what he had planned—did he even intend to stay around after the tournament? It certainly wasn’t necessary to live here to hold the middleweight championship belt. He could live almost anywhere as long as he had access to trainers and an airport. And if he lost . . . if he lost he might be out anyway. She wouldn’t put it past her dad to cut him from the league. A knot of anxiety began to tighten in her belly. Clearly they had a lot to talk about. And yet she felt herself not wanting to bring it up now. This morning with Nick was warm and comforting, like coffee. Talking about the future would only put salt in it, ruining it.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Nick’s voice sent a shiver down her spine as his arms came around her waist, pulling her back against his chest and driving out her worries as soon as his mouth found her neck.
She closed her eyes and leaned into him. “Morning,” she said, running her palms over his strong forearms. He felt so solid and reassuring against her that it was impossible to worry when he held her. He had a way of shutting her brain off. “That was some performance.”
He grinned against her neck. “Last night or the shower?”
“Both.” She laughed, her hands roaming down to grab his hips through the towel to pull him closer to her, her fingers curling into the terry cloth. “But I meant the shower.”
“You could’ve joined me. I’d sing backup for you.” Biting her earlobe, he tightened his arms around her, and she savored the feel of him pressed against her back.
Jules closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was sore from the four times they’d had sex. Exhausted, they’d finally fallen asleep holding each other last night, only to wake up a couple of hours later and find each other in the dark. Deep, slow kisses had sparked fresh desire between them. She’d lost track of how many orgasms she’d had, but she was already aching for him again. She wondered if she’d ever get enough of him.
“I missed this.” She turned in his arms and crossed her wrists behind his neck. “Sleeping next to you. Waking up with you.” She grinned. “You’re addictive.”
He smiled back and kissed the tip of her nose. “Damn right I am. And don’t you forget it.”
A wave of sadness washed over her, for all that she’d put them through. “I’m sorry for the past year. I’m finished running. I won’t hurt you like that again.”
“Hey.” He took her face between his palms, his thumbs stroking over her cheekbones. “I didn’t mean it that way. What happened . . . happened. We have to figure out now and how to make this work.” His arms went around her, a palm roving up and down her back as he held her close. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and she smiled as contentment and hope replaced the sadness.
This is what it meant to be happy. She’d never felt it before. Even in Chicago, she’d always known the end was near, so she’d never been able to let down her guard completely. But now . . . now there was no specified end. She wasn’t ready to believe there wouldn’t be an end, but she was ready to learn how to enjoy being here with him, now. To try. That realization was like a weight lifting off her chest.
“The Imperial March” cut through the quiet apartment and made her stiffen and pull away as if she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. Because she was. In all the drama, anguish, and joy involved in getting back together with Nick, she’d forgotten about her dad and his stupid nonfraternization clause. Shit. Shit. Shit. “That’s my dad.” Her phone’s screen lit up on the bedside table with his name.
“Darth Vader?” Nick laughed, but seemed in no hurry to let her go, and his hands moved back down to her hips.
She shrugged. “Seemed appropriate. I have to go to work. I’m sorry.”
His smile didn’t fade as he brushed her hair back from her face. “I’ll miss you.”
“Me too.” It didn’t seem fair to have to leave him so soon, but the weekend was coming up and they could spend it in bed. She leaned up to kiss his chin before pulling away to find her clothes. They’d been left all over the place.
“Want to grab lunch later?” he asked.
The question made her pause. She wanted to. But if they had lunch together, that meant going public, and they couldn’t do that. What were they supposed to do about that clause? Grabbing her dress off of the floor, she sat down on the bed and held it rumpled in her lap. “We need to talk about that.”
His brow furrowed, and he sat down next to her. “About what exactly?”
“About us, going forward.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but there’s a nonfraternization clause in the contracts we signed with the WFC.”
“What?” He looked like she’d just told him aliens had landed on the Strip.
“It’s a dating policy. Employees and fighters are not allowed to date.”
He shook his head. “No, I know what it is, but how does that apply? Companies usually have those to keep managers from dating their direct reports, but that’s not the case here. Darcy chose me for the campaign before you even knew about it. You have no say in which fighters get brought into the league. I don’t understand how that applies.”
“Because my dad might be a control freak?” She tried to joke to lighten the mood, but the truth was that their hands were tied. “It’s not just for managers. It’s for everyone. He doesn’t want anyone in the company dating another person in the company.”
“That’s bullshit. Can he do that? Is it legal?”
She nodded and chewed her bottom lip. “I think so.”
“You mean we have to keep us a secret?” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t, Jules. After being away from you for so long, I can’t let some goddamn piece of paper keep us apart.”
She ran her hand up and down his back. “It won’t keep us apart. We can’t be together at work, and I suppose we’ll have to stay clear of a lot of public places, but we can still be together here, and at my place.”
But he still shook his head. “I won’t sneak around with you like we’re doing something wrong. We need to talk to Darcy, tell him what’s going on.”
That was a horrible idea. He’d hated every boyfriend she’d ever had, and he already seemed to dislike Nick for his own petty reasons. The clause would just be like adding lighter fluid to a spark. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He looked at her with a mixture of pain and anger on his face and she hurried to add, “Right now.”
“Is this . . .” He ran a hand over his jaw and cleared his throat. “Is this about you or the clause?”
“I want to be with you, Nick. I came here last night because I’m in. Completely.” His bottomless eyes were uncertain, and she hated that she’d done that to him. But still he nodded, accepting her words. “I’m afraid of what he might do if he finds out. God knows he won’t be happy, but I don’t want him to jeopardize anything for you.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“That we don’t let people at work know about us. Just until the tournament is over.” She bit her lip, because she couldn’t read his expression.
“That’s nearly six weeks.”
Put that way it sounded like so long when they’d already waited a year. “I’m still trying to work things out with Dad. We’ve only had dinner once since I’ve been here.” She paused. “How about this? Give me some time to work on my relationship with him and feel him out before we spring this on him. If I can get to a better place with him, maybe I can get him to see how ridiculous this clause is.”
Nick let out a breath but nodded. “That seems fair.”
“Even if it does mean waiting until after the tournament to tell him? To go public?” She needed to make sure Nick was okay with that, just in case. “I don’t want to jeopardize the tournament—your career.”
He nodded. “Hell, I’ve waited this long for you.” He gave her a devious smile. “You’ll have to make it up to me, though.” His voice was low and rough when he asked, “What happens if you’re late for work?”
Her body responded instinctively to his voice, coming alive. More than anything she wanted him again. “I don’t know.” She’d probably have to deal with a Craig Darcy tantrum, but it’d be worth it. Hell, she’d probably have to deal with a tantrum even if she wasn’t late.
He grinned and leaned toward her. “We’re gonna find out.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she dipped her head.
“No fair. You brushed your teeth.” It was probably a dumb thing to worry about. They’d had sex plenty of times in the mornings before getting out of bed back in Chicago. But this was different. This was new and exciting and scary and she wanted it to be perfect. If she tried hard enough to get everything right, maybe it really could all work out.
“You think I care?” he said, and kissed a line across her jaw.
“I care.” I care. About this, about us, about you. This matters.
He growled in playful frustration and let her go. “You’ve got thirty seconds,” he said, releasing her and then smacking her ass as she ran toward the bathroom.
She yelped and rubbed her backside, the tingling pain only making her throb that much harder for him. She looked wild-eyed and crazy when she saw herself in the mirror. Thanks to his fingers her hair was tangled, but there was such a glow of happiness on her face that it made her pause for a second. Being with Nick had done that. Suddenly she didn’t know what she’d been so afraid of, and why she’d been so reluctant to say yes to him. To say yes to this happiness.
Something exciting and good bloomed within her.
“Jules!”
She laughed at his tone and grabbed the bottle of mouthwash. God, she’d missed him.