I lost my appetite,” Cole mumbled once he came back to the table. Nikki had already eaten two pieces of buttery bread and downed his entire drink. Maybe it was the alcohol or the carbs, but suddenly she was so exhausted, it was hard to keep her eyes open.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you turn down food.”
“Yeah, well…” His voice was hoarse. He sounded as exhausted as she felt.
“That’s okay.” She waved him off and started to slide out of the booth. “Let’s just get things to go, and you can walk me to my apartment.”
“Done.” He sounded pissed but relieved.
“Unless you want to stay? Sorry, I can’t exactly read your expression, but you sound angry.”
His sigh was long and hard. “Sometimes I hate my job—the forced kindness when people are complete assholes and deserve to be punched in the dick.”
“Whoa.”
He stood and offered his arm. “I’ll grab our food and meet you in the lobby, all right?”
“I can wait here—”
“I know you can,” Cole interrupted. “Just…please?”
“Wow, Cole Masters just said please…” she teased. “I guess I’ll go wait in the lobby.”
“And to think, all it took was good manners,” he said.
“Good manners still won’t get you a yes on that marriage proposal.”
He whispered a quiet “We’ll see” before kissing her forehead and pointing her toward the lobby.
Why couldn’t she love a man like Cole?
Other than the fact that he was her best friend.
And a complete manwhore.
And held her job in the palm of his hand.
Groaning, she tapped her way to the main lobby and plopped down on one of the plush leather chairs. When she closed her eyes, it wasn’t the vision of Cole that filled them, or at least what she thought he looked like.
It was Brant.
Always Brant.
Maybe that was because they’d never had any real closure. Just fighting, yelling, and then silence.
God, she’d hated the silence so much more than the yelling.
The silence crackled with tension—it was always filled with more meaning than when words were actually spoken.
It wasn’t the yelling that had killed their relationship.
It was the silence that had followed. When he had every opportunity to fix it—and didn’t.
Why was it so hard to move on? Probably because she hadn’t tried.
Instead, she’d worked. Tried to stay positive. And hoped.
Damn hope. Stupid hope.
Hope flickered away the minute he sent back the check the first time. And every single time after that, hope died a bit more until all she was left with was darkness.
“He’s not coming back for me,” she whispered, knowing that if she finally admitted he wasn’t coming, she would have to take her part of the blame as to why. Because it wasn’t just on him to come running back. A small part of her knew that it was her job to meet him halfway. Instead, she’d ignored the need in his eyes, the desperate plea in his voice, and allowed grief to swallow her whole. Because at the time she’d needed someone to blame, and it was easier blaming him than herself. “It’s over, he’s gone,” she said under her breath. Great, now she was talking to herself in the hotel lobby like a depressed psycho.
“Who?” Cole’s voice interrupted her emotional breakdown.
Well, it was now or never.
And what better way to try to forget about Brant than with her best friend, the one who had been there to help pick up all the pieces all those years ago when she’d begged for a job? When she’d needed someone to listen to her? At least he wouldn’t hurt her—he needed her heart to do that—and she’d never gotten it back from the man who took it first.
Maybe a date would at least distract her from the pain, from the stupid hope that she still had in her heart that one day she’d open the door and Brant would be standing there.
She shuddered. Her throat tightening, she stood and held out her hand to Cole. “One date.”
He didn’t move.
“Cole?”
“Sorry, I think I just had a stroke—did you say one date?”
“Y-yes.” She cringed. “Maybe?”
“That face you just made does wonders for my self-esteem. Seriously, you look like you just ate an entire plate of sushi.”
“I hate sushi.”
“I’m not sushi.”
Sighing, she placed her palm against his solid chest. “I just…I know I need to move on. Maybe this will help, you know?” Besides, even though Cole had been after her for years, she knew the truth. They teased, but he was just a friend—he wasn’t seriously interested in her.
“It’s been four years, Nik.” Cole’s voice was soft, concerned. Gah! Why did he have to be so amazing? And why did she have to be so…sad?
“Well, when you put it that way I sound….damaged.” Her lips twitched into a smile that probably looked more helpless than hopeful.
“Not damaged.” He cupped her face with his massive hand. “Just…a bit lost.”
“Yeah.” Her voice cracked. “It’s a stupid idea, although I’m sure you’re a great dater.”
He laughed.
“It would never work.”
“It would if you actually wanted to try, but part of me thinks that this is a desperate attempt to fuck him out of your system.”
Embarrassed that he’d seen right through her, Nikki let out a little gasp. “I never said—”
“Trust me, it would happen, and then you would hate me and yourself in the morning. God, listen to me…I’ve wanted you for four years, you finally offer one date, and all I can think about is the fact that I’m a greedy bastard who wants all of you—not just the pieces.”
“See!” She spread her arms wide. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! Why isn’t this working?”
“Huh?”
“You say all the things, the right things, and everyone says you’re sexy—”
“You know I’m sexy.”
“I said your voice is sexy.”
“All of me is sexy.”
“Fine!” She dropped her arms. “You’re sexy and I—”
“Nikki.” He wrapped an arm around her. “You’re exhausted, you need sleep. If tomorrow morning, after a full night’s sleep, you still want to try a date, we’ll go on a date…all right?”
“I convinced you?”
“More like I feel sorry for you.”
“Such a good friend,” she grumbled. “And I’m warning you now, I won’t sleep. I keep having dreams about—”
Cole tensed. “About him?”
“Yeah, and—okay, you’re officially back into best-friend territory, since I don’t know who else to tell this to and you can’t fire me.”
“What the hell did you do that would make me fire you?”
Nikki chewed her bottom lip as they walked out into the dry Arizona air. “Well, I may have”—she rolled her eyes—“touched a client’s ass.”
“Hate to break it to you.” He laughed. “But you’re a masseuse, kind of part of the job there, sport.”
“I hate you.”
“Is that what has you all freaked out? Or is this about getting written up?”
Nikki paused. “Wait, what? I was written up?”
“It’s getting taken care of, it’s not like you can even see your workstation well enough to find dust mites.”
“Huh?”
He wrapped his arm around her. “Subject change. Tell me about the ass touching.”
“It was the deaf guy!” She slumped against him. “I touched the deaf guy’s ass. What sort of person does that?”
Cole went completely still, then roared out, “What?”
“You just said it was my job! You said you wanted to know!”
“He is not your job!”
“Why are you yelling at me?”
“He’s bad news.” He let her go and moved away. “Shit, shit, damn it, shit!”
Nikki reached out and gave his arm the slightest touch. Maybe he’d snap out of whatever psychotic breakdown he was having.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, I just…no more touching clients’ asses, especially that little shit,” he snapped.
“Little?”
Cole groaned. “Please, God, tell me you didn’t touch anything else.”
“Er, no, not exactly, I mean there was…” She took a step away. “Worst conversation ever.”
Cole grabbed her arm again as they crossed the street. She could tell he was angry because his body was shaking. “Tell me he didn’t hit on you, or grab your ass, or force you to give him a happy ending, swear to all that’s holy, because if he did any of those things I’m going to prison for murder.”
“Of course he didn’t!” She laughed. “And I thought you said he was married.”
“Well…” Cole was quiet for a moment and then said, “Even married guys can be pricks, you know?”
“Good talk.” She nodded her head and wrapped her arms around him for a hug. “Thanks for not firing me for the ass touching or for getting written up. Why was I written up again? You said something about dust mites?”
Cole ignored her and returned her hug. “Best behavior,” he grumbled, hugging her tighter. “I mean it.”
“Of course!” She lied, she totally lied, because all she kept thinking about was the man who smelled like sexy cologne and had the body of a god, and she wondered if he was going to be on her client list again tomorrow.
She’d date him.
The thought almost knocked her on her ass.
Cole was right. She needed rest.
“See you tomorrow, friend.” She waved in his direction. He grasped her hand and pulled her to his chest, but not before brushing a kiss across her mouth. “Dream of that.”
Her throat tightened. Maybe she was wrong about him just wanting to be friends. “Cole—”
“Good night.”