Read Online For the Love of Nick by Jill Shalvis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jill Shalvis
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moment.
Then she pulled free, ran a self-conscious hand down her hair and avoided his gaze.
“Here.” He took her down the hall and showed her the bathroom. “Take a shower if you’d like.” She looked so grateful and anxious to do just that, it hurt to even look at her. “Then…” He opened his bedroom door, wincing slightly because he hadn’t made his bed or cleaned up his clothes from yesterday, which were scattered across the floor. Kicking as many as he could beneath the bed, he jerked up the sheet and blanket, and caught her smiling. “What?”
“You really weren’t going to bring your date back here.”
“Of course not,” he said. Muffy—Molly, damnit, Molly had offered her place. Not that it would have mattered. He’d never felt the need to change anything about himself or his house for others.
Though it didn’t escape him that if he’d known Danielle was going to be sleeping in his room, he definitely would have cleaned it.
Danielle laughed and, feeling a little left out as that laughter was clearly aimed at him, he put his hands on his hips and cocked a brow. “What’s so funny now?”
“It’s just that I pictured the two of you…”
“Pictured us…?”
Her face went a little pink. “She’s so pretty, you know, and wearing that dress, I thought you’d—”
“Drag her back here and ravish her?”
“Yes.” She shrugged and didn’t meet his gaze. “Yes. Exactly.”
She’d pictured that? It must have been quite explicit, given the color on her cheeks. Still, Nick had to admit, there might have been plenty of ravishing going on, if Danielle hadn’t come along.
But she had, and now he couldn’t even imagine being with Molly tonight, which disturbed him.
“Here.” From his drawer, he pulled a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. “If you need fresh clothes to sleep in.”
She hugged the clothes to her chest and stared at him with those gray eyes that fifteen years ago he would have happily drowned in.
But he was older now. Wiser. She shouldn’t have still gotten to him.
And yet she did, in a big way. “Good night,” he said gruffly, pushing past her.
But when he got to the door, she called his name.
Not wanting to look back, badly needing to escape, he put his hand on the wood and reluctantly stopped. Slowly he turned, catching her dark gaze. “Yeah?”
“I don’t want to take your bed. Please, Nick, the couch is more than fine.”
She had the same look on her face that she’d had at her prom. Surprise that he cared. Had so few people cared? It made his throat ache. “Take the bed.”
“Nick—”
“Take the bed,” he repeated, and shut the door.
Then he did as he did whenever he needed to clear his head; he went for a long, punishing run.
8
W HEN N ICK GOT BACK , the house was quiet. His bedroom door was shut, and as there was no sign of the dog, he assumed Danielle had her, and that they were both asleep.
Good. He was hot and sweaty and pleasantly exhausted from his run. If he could grab a shower and fall asleep without kicking his brain into high drive, things would be even better.
He managed the shower part of the plan, and settled facedown on the couch. He made himself as comfortable as he could and closed his eyes.
Then, as if on cue, his thoughts started racing.
Danielle was in his bed. In his clothes. Was she curled into a little ball beneath his covers? Or was she sprawled out, taking up the entire bed?
He supposed as long as Sadie was on the floor, it didn’t matter, but he couldn’t dispel the images of Danielle in his sheets. Bare legs, maybe a creamy shoulder peeking out of his T-shirt. No bra, so her breasts would swing free with her every movement, the nipples hard and pouty, pressing against the material.
Oh yeah, that image would help him sleep. With a rough sigh, he flipped over and studied the ceiling. This was going to be one hell of a long night.
“Nick?” The woman of his dreams materialized at his side. “I couldn’t
Then she pulled free, ran a self-conscious hand down her hair and avoided his gaze.
“Here.” He took her down the hall and showed her the bathroom. “Take a shower if you’d like.” She looked so grateful and anxious to do just that, it hurt to even look at her. “Then…” He opened his bedroom door, wincing slightly because he hadn’t made his bed or cleaned up his clothes from yesterday, which were scattered across the floor. Kicking as many as he could beneath the bed, he jerked up the sheet and blanket, and caught her smiling. “What?”
“You really weren’t going to bring your date back here.”
“Of course not,” he said. Muffy—Molly, damnit, Molly had offered her place. Not that it would have mattered. He’d never felt the need to change anything about himself or his house for others.
Though it didn’t escape him that if he’d known Danielle was going to be sleeping in his room, he definitely would have cleaned it.
Danielle laughed and, feeling a little left out as that laughter was clearly aimed at him, he put his hands on his hips and cocked a brow. “What’s so funny now?”
“It’s just that I pictured the two of you…”
“Pictured us…?”
Her face went a little pink. “She’s so pretty, you know, and wearing that dress, I thought you’d—”
“Drag her back here and ravish her?”
“Yes.” She shrugged and didn’t meet his gaze. “Yes. Exactly.”
She’d pictured that? It must have been quite explicit, given the color on her cheeks. Still, Nick had to admit, there might have been plenty of ravishing going on, if Danielle hadn’t come along.
But she had, and now he couldn’t even imagine being with Molly tonight, which disturbed him.
“Here.” From his drawer, he pulled a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. “If you need fresh clothes to sleep in.”
She hugged the clothes to her chest and stared at him with those gray eyes that fifteen years ago he would have happily drowned in.
But he was older now. Wiser. She shouldn’t have still gotten to him.
And yet she did, in a big way. “Good night,” he said gruffly, pushing past her.
But when he got to the door, she called his name.
Not wanting to look back, badly needing to escape, he put his hand on the wood and reluctantly stopped. Slowly he turned, catching her dark gaze. “Yeah?”
“I don’t want to take your bed. Please, Nick, the couch is more than fine.”
She had the same look on her face that she’d had at her prom. Surprise that he cared. Had so few people cared? It made his throat ache. “Take the bed.”
“Nick—”
“Take the bed,” he repeated, and shut the door.
Then he did as he did whenever he needed to clear his head; he went for a long, punishing run.
8
W HEN N ICK GOT BACK , the house was quiet. His bedroom door was shut, and as there was no sign of the dog, he assumed Danielle had her, and that they were both asleep.
Good. He was hot and sweaty and pleasantly exhausted from his run. If he could grab a shower and fall asleep without kicking his brain into high drive, things would be even better.
He managed the shower part of the plan, and settled facedown on the couch. He made himself as comfortable as he could and closed his eyes.
Then, as if on cue, his thoughts started racing.
Danielle was in his bed. In his clothes. Was she curled into a little ball beneath his covers? Or was she sprawled out, taking up the entire bed?
He supposed as long as Sadie was on the floor, it didn’t matter, but he couldn’t dispel the images of Danielle in his sheets. Bare legs, maybe a creamy shoulder peeking out of his T-shirt. No bra, so her breasts would swing free with her every movement, the nipples hard and pouty, pressing against the material.
Oh yeah, that image would help him sleep. With a rough sigh, he flipped over and studied the ceiling. This was going to be one hell of a long night.
“Nick?” The woman of his dreams materialized at his side. “I couldn’t
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