I knew it was wrong, but I panicked.
The run I went on did nothing to help my frayed nerves. Nor did it bring me the answers I was looking for.
I want him. Badly. But I don’t know how it would work out in the long run.
Could I really start a new relationship, with my best friend’s older brother no less, right before moving to New York City, to his neighborhood? A man I’ve only spent a couple of hours with?
On paper, this is a no-brainer. Cut my losses, lie, and chalk it up to the effects of the booziest night of the year. Maybe look back at last night, years from now, and laugh it off. Just a short evening spent with a stranger who was clearly no longer a stranger.
But why doesn’t it feel like a no-brainer? Why does it feel like I chose wrong when deciding not to date my best friend’s older brother?
And why can’t I breathe?
13
Antonio
PRESENT
Samaná,Dominican Republic
“The one that acts like he’s no longer mad at the world… or me.”
That sentence struck me like a lightning bolt. Because she’s wrong. I’m still mad. Actually, I’m quite livid. It’s much safer to stay angry at Nikki than to allow myself to feel the only other emotion I’ve ever felt for her. It’s easier to lay all the blame on her, as if I haven’t had ample opportunity to ask her to chat and talk things over.
Nope. Instead, I’ll keep myself in the painful purgatory that has now added physical touch and minimal clothing to the agenda while on this trip.
God, this is such a cruel joke.
Why her? Why can’t I just move on and let it go? The hellcat has her claws in my frigid heart and refuses to let go.
I’ve never wanted someone so badly. I can’t even stand being in the same bungalow as her while she’s changing, because it’s pure torture.
But I need to get a grip. I refuse to put myself out there for her again. If our night wasn’t as memorable to her as it was to me, and trust me, it’s imprinted in my soul, then I need to power through and keep the truce alive until this vacation is over.
And just as I finish giving myself the world’s most pitiful pep talk, I see her strut into the restaurant, looking like a goddamn siren, calling to me. The hostess walks her over to my table, and I can’t keep my eyes from roving over her entire body. The dress clings to her like a second skin, teasingly sinful with a tasteful amount of cleavage.
I stand before her hand touches her chair and pull it out for her. She arches a brow but doesn’t say a word as she takes a seat and shimmies the chair forward. I may need to keep some semblance of distance between us, but my mother raised a gentleman.
A waiter appears immediately, giving her the same rundown he gave me when I arrived a while ago.
“So, Ms. Nikki. Which tasting menu are you interested in? Or shall I prepare a sample of land and sea?”
“I’ll do the seafood.” She nods pleasantly toward him.
“Perfect. I shall come back with an aperitif, and each dish will come with a drink pairing.”
“Actually, I know you guys like to play booze matchmaker here, but can I get something strong? Preferably something with tequila to start. I’m sure I’m going to need it.” She gives me a bland stare.
Looks like I’m not the only one who’s snapped out of our happy bubble.
“Of course. As you wish. And for you, Mr. Tony? Would you like another IPA?”
I challenge her gaze as I respond. “How about you get me whatever she’s having?” I tip my head in her direction, which she responds to with a classic eye roll.
“Very well. I will be back with those shortly.” He bows and quietly steps away, leaving us both to our quiet standoff.
I know why I’m in a mood, but I’m not sure what could have made her so upset. I mean, sure, I could have waited for her to finish getting ready so we could make our way to the restaurant together, but I need any Nikki break I can get at this point in order to stay somewhat sane.
