pivoted away from them, staring out the window.
By the time they’d traveled the three hours to their hotel, the effects of the alcohol were starting to wear off. Nikki was shocked at the number of people milling around the hotel lobby and casino. Michael took her hand and pushed his way through the crowd to reach the front desk and check in.
Christian handed Michael a room key with a smug look on his face, his arm around Sophie. He and Sophie kissed Nikki goodnight and told her and Michael they’d see them in the morning. Michael looked at Christian, first with confusion, then acknowledgement, then anger. They had both assumed he would be rooming with Christian and Nikki would be with Sophie. But unlike Nikki, he was none too pleased when he realized he’d been set up. Christian wagged his eyebrows at him suggestively as he shook Michael’s hand and told him to have a good night. Sophie just giggled as Christian dragged her in the direction of the elevators, leaving Michael and Nikki staring at their backs as they left.
Which brought them back to the present: Nikki, in her long lavender prom dress, sitting on the foot of the bed, watching Michael pace back and forth in front of her, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he tried to work through his thoughts.
“Nikki…” he started, then stopped and began pacing again.
“Nicole…” he started again, groaning out loud as the words refused to come.
Nikki threw her hands up in frustration. “Oh, Jesus H. Christ! It’s a bed, Michael. A place to sleep. It’s not the first time we’ve slept in the same bed.”
“That was before.” The pacing continued.
“Before what, Michael? Before you started pushing me away? Before you broke up with me? Or maybe you mean before they died. Because it’s not exactly clear.”
Michael’s eyes flashed to hers. Anger. Regret. Rage. It was the same old argument, and she was tired of it. She rolled her eyes and stood up, slightly amused at the way he practically ran for the restroom the moment she reached for the zipper on her dress. She changed quickly into her pajamas—an old t-shirt from a concert they’d gone to a few years back and cut-off sweatpants.
Michael didn’t come back out until Nikki was curled up into a ball on the far side of the bed, her back to him. He walked around and squatted down to look at her tear-stained face as she pretended to be asleep. After a moment, he stood and walked to the other side of the bed. She heard the rustling of clothes, followed by an extended silence. Just when she couldn’t stand it anymore and was about to open her eyes, he slid under the covers. He curled his body around her back, draping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear before kissing her cheek.
“I love you, Michael.” She surprised him by rolling over in his arms and opening her eyes. She placed her hand on his cheek. He leaned into it before he could stop himself. “I can deal with losing my mother. I can’t deal with losing you. Please, Michael. I love you.”
Something in Michael changed in that moment. She was startled by the urgency in his movements as he kissed her forcefully, pushing her into the pillows below her as he laid her flat and settled his body on top of hers. He pushed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned around it as his kisses grew more urgent and more passionate. She wrapped her arms tight around him, constantly worrying that he would pull away again, change his mind, but he didn’t.
His hand tugged desperately at her t-shirt, raising it just enough to find her soft breast, a slight sheen of sweat already forming on it, making it slick as he caressed her. His thumb grazed over her nipple and he smiled against her lips as it hardened and pebbled from his touch. He squeezed her breast slightly. He broke the kiss long enough to sit her up and pull the shirt over
By the time they’d traveled the three hours to their hotel, the effects of the alcohol were starting to wear off. Nikki was shocked at the number of people milling around the hotel lobby and casino. Michael took her hand and pushed his way through the crowd to reach the front desk and check in.
Christian handed Michael a room key with a smug look on his face, his arm around Sophie. He and Sophie kissed Nikki goodnight and told her and Michael they’d see them in the morning. Michael looked at Christian, first with confusion, then acknowledgement, then anger. They had both assumed he would be rooming with Christian and Nikki would be with Sophie. But unlike Nikki, he was none too pleased when he realized he’d been set up. Christian wagged his eyebrows at him suggestively as he shook Michael’s hand and told him to have a good night. Sophie just giggled as Christian dragged her in the direction of the elevators, leaving Michael and Nikki staring at their backs as they left.
Which brought them back to the present: Nikki, in her long lavender prom dress, sitting on the foot of the bed, watching Michael pace back and forth in front of her, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he tried to work through his thoughts.
“Nikki…” he started, then stopped and began pacing again.
“Nicole…” he started again, groaning out loud as the words refused to come.
Nikki threw her hands up in frustration. “Oh, Jesus H. Christ! It’s a bed, Michael. A place to sleep. It’s not the first time we’ve slept in the same bed.”
“That was before.” The pacing continued.
“Before what, Michael? Before you started pushing me away? Before you broke up with me? Or maybe you mean before they died. Because it’s not exactly clear.”
Michael’s eyes flashed to hers. Anger. Regret. Rage. It was the same old argument, and she was tired of it. She rolled her eyes and stood up, slightly amused at the way he practically ran for the restroom the moment she reached for the zipper on her dress. She changed quickly into her pajamas—an old t-shirt from a concert they’d gone to a few years back and cut-off sweatpants.
Michael didn’t come back out until Nikki was curled up into a ball on the far side of the bed, her back to him. He walked around and squatted down to look at her tear-stained face as she pretended to be asleep. After a moment, he stood and walked to the other side of the bed. She heard the rustling of clothes, followed by an extended silence. Just when she couldn’t stand it anymore and was about to open her eyes, he slid under the covers. He curled his body around her back, draping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear before kissing her cheek.
“I love you, Michael.” She surprised him by rolling over in his arms and opening her eyes. She placed her hand on his cheek. He leaned into it before he could stop himself. “I can deal with losing my mother. I can’t deal with losing you. Please, Michael. I love you.”
Something in Michael changed in that moment. She was startled by the urgency in his movements as he kissed her forcefully, pushing her into the pillows below her as he laid her flat and settled his body on top of hers. He pushed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned around it as his kisses grew more urgent and more passionate. She wrapped her arms tight around him, constantly worrying that he would pull away again, change his mind, but he didn’t.
His hand tugged desperately at her t-shirt, raising it just enough to find her soft breast, a slight sheen of sweat already forming on it, making it slick as he caressed her. His thumb grazed over her nipple and he smiled against her lips as it hardened and pebbled from his touch. He squeezed her breast slightly. He broke the kiss long enough to sit her up and pull the shirt over
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