Nicholas

 

 

I wake with a start, the sheets around me a rumpled, twisted mess. I'm covered in sweat. The cold air that's enveloped the room from the slightly ajar window does nothing to cool me.  I sit up, my mind still racing with the thoughts of the dream. It's the same fucking dream I have at least once a month.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed, taking in the lights of the city that usually offers me comfort. I can disappear in New York. When I stand and stare at the massive skyscrapers that punctuate the skyline, I feel invisible. During those brief moments, the haunting memories of my past dissipate. They don't consume me. They don't flood my mind with the thoughts that fuel my creative drive.

I couldn't write what I do if I hadn't lived through my past, yet it steals virtually every moment of my future from me.

That wasn't the case tonight when I had dinner with Sophia. She's right to be wary of me but not for the reasons she thinks.

I do want to fuck her. I don't know a man alive who wouldn't. She's beautiful and sensual, even if she doesn't realize it. When I leaned in to kiss her cheek, she sighed and her breath rushed over my chin. She smelled like spring, which feels eons away right now. She also smelled of the promise of a future that could be different.

I shake my head and pick up the water bottle I keep next to my bed. I swallow a large gulp, but it does nothing to calm me. I should get up and go for a run or take another shower. I had two since I left the restaurant.

The first was so I could jerk off and cleanse away the memory of Sophia. The second, an hour later, was cold as ice. It did little to quiet the hunger I still feel for her.

I scoop my phone into my palm and scroll through my contact list. I stop at her name, my thumb hanging over the screen above her number. It's past midnight. She'll be asleep by now in a bed I can't picture in an apartment on some nameless street on this island.

Unable to help myself, I reach out. I send her a quick text knowing she'll see it in the morning.

It's Nicholas. I'm texting to see if this is really you or if you gave me a fake number.

Her response comes almost instantaneously.

I knew you'd try and contact me in the middle of the night. Why are you awake? It's late.

I lean back on the bed and type out the first thing that comes to mind. It also happens to be the truth.

Bad dream.

At least a minute passes before I see the three dots jump that signal a reply.

I have a recurring dream about a duck. Don’t ask but suffice to say I avoid the ponds at Central Park at all costs.

I laugh aloud as she types another message.

I'm going to sleep, Nicholas. I hope you were telling the truth about Joe.

I text back immediately.

I was. He'll be in touch soon, Sophia. Night.

I wait for a response, but there's nothing. I don't need it. I got her number and she didn't tell me to fuck off in her super sweet way. I'd call tonight a win.

 

***

 

"Once the book is released, your life will cease to be your own," Cheyenne, my publicist, points out as she scoops two spoons of sugar into her coffee. "You know the drill, Nick. Tour, television, podcasts, the works. I'm organizing your schedule now."

"You tell me where to be and I'm there." I sip my coffee.

"Is your brother tagging along this time?" She bats her eyelashes. "You know I have nothing against hanging out with Sebastian while you're hard at work."

I eye her over the rim of the mug before I place it back on the table. "Zeb has to work. He's staying here."

The last time I released a book my brother was due for a two week vacation from his position as a detective with the NYPD. He needed a break, so I dragged him with me to Europe for that leg of my tour. He had a blast although none of that happened with Cheyenne. She was married then. Now she's not and I don't have the heart to tell her that she's not Zeb's type.

"You could do a girl a favor and set us up, Nick."

"I'm doing you a favor by not setting you up with him." I tap my finger on the handle of the white ceramic mug that is a staple of this particular coffee chain. They serve Cheyenne's favorite blend so whenever she calls a meeting, this is our place. "You don't want to get involved with him. His life is his job."

"That's because he hasn’t met the right woman yet." She tosses her long red hair over her shoulder. "I'm not easy to resist, Nick."

I've never had a problem resisting her. Cheyenne is a year older than me. She's attractive but our relationship mirrors the one I have with my sister. We fight like siblings, tease each other the same way best friends do. Hell, if I'm feeling sentimental I might consider jumping in front of a bus for her, but there's never been an ounce of sexual tension between us.

"I resist you just fine, Enne." I raise my mug in the air. "You're preaching to the wrong choir."

"I saw the way Sebastian looked at me. He was checking me out."

"He'd check out that empty chair if he walked in here right now." I point at a single wooden chair at the unoccupied table next to us. "He's a detective. He's always checking out everything."

"Way to rain on my parade, Nicholas." She narrows her eyes. "You must have friends you can set me up with. What about your other brother?"

"Liam is off limits." I shake my head, raising my hand in warning. "He's the baby of the family. You're too old for him."

"I'm perfect for him." She chuckles as she looks at two women taking a seat at a table a few feet from us. "I bet I could teach him a thing or two."

"Keep your panties on. My brothers are on your never-going-to-do list. Got it?"

"In that case, my sister is on your never-going-to-do-list."

I shrug. "You have a sister?"

"You're such a shit actor." She rolls her eyes. "You've been asking for my sister's number for the past year. Don't act like she doesn't exist."

I look at my watch. "A year? Why can't I remember her name or face at the moment?"

"God, you're such a bastard." She cups her hands over her mouth. "I don't care if you remember her or not, you are never putting one finger on my sister."

"Suits me fine," I reply with a smile. Unless her sister's name happens to be Sophia Reese I don't want my hands anywhere near her.