Panic very nearly jolted my body—for Callie rather than myself—but I fought it, instead giving him a resolute, confident nod with an open ended meaning.
He could contemplate his own clues, paint his own picture, and draw his own conclusions.
But I’d planted a seed of doubt with one simple gesture.
Guilty men, fraught with wrongdoing and wicked intentions, rarely looked their jury directly in the eye.
And after trusting me to guide his daughter professionally, no matter the age of consent and lack of dissent between hers and my own, Frank Nickleson would very much see me as a guilty man if he knew the details of my intentions for my relationship with her.
As I slid into the car, desperate to hold on to the fun, free-loving woman unlocked by a kiss, I decided not to tell Callie about her father’s watchful eye. Not if she hadn’t noticed it on her own.
Mischief and happiness sparkled in her eyes as she turned to me. “Where are we going?”
“My apartment,” I decided and decreed at once, wanting the privacy and freedom to talk to her how I wanted, touch her how I wanted, and open up the next chapter of her beautifully written book.
All of the things she’d kept locked away for the last few weeks lingered on the surface, and I was eager to scrape as many of them up as I could before they disappeared.
A shiver ran through her body as she opened the console between us, grabbed the keys from inside, and handed them to me with an electric brush of her hand.
“Cold?” I asked as I started the engine, ignoring the man that still stood in front of us and focusing on her.
“A little,” she admitted, turning on the heat and pointing the vent until air directly bathed her skin.
I wanted to pull her into my arms, warm her with the heat of my own body and the comfort of my arms, but I knew it wasn’t a good idea.
“I’m sorry. It won’t take long to get there,” I said instead, watching as her brows scrunched slightly together before turning away and putting the car into gear.
Hurt feelings and unmet expectations would have to wait.
I turned left out of the parking lot and drove toward the center of town. Past the McDonald’s where we’d shared greasy chicken nuggets, a Quarter Pounder, and nervously aggressive conversation, through Main Street, and to the apartment complex on the other side that housed my home.
I missed the home I shared with my parents throughout my childhood, but not because of the house. I missed the laughter of my mother and the playful antics by my father that caused it. I missed the loving acceptance they provided me through all of my decisions, the support they gave to my athletic career, and their ability to balance that with a life devoid of pressure.
I didn’t think Callie had that—an unconditional support system.
I wanted to be that for her.
As I pulled into the spot directly in front of my unit, Callie’s voice cracked with nerves. The fog of lust and passion had worn off, and reality had set in. “What are we doing, Nik?”
I turned to her fully, put a hand to her jaw, and leaned in until my lips just barely touched hers. She didn’t pull back or protest, but the pulse in her neck throbbed violently.
“What we’ve wanted to do since the first night we met.” When the words were finished, the movement fully formed against her lips, I added pressure, settling my mouth against hers and sealing the statement with a kiss.
She kissed me back slowly, the taste of cinnamon and heat working its way into my mouth along with her tongue as she gave into the moment and allowed herself the freedom from her mind.
I never wanted it to end, but I also wanted more than stolen kisses and unsure rendezvous.
And that kind of more was only founded on more. More communication, more understanding, and more respect.
Breaking the kiss slowly, I let my hand linger on her cheek, feeling it heat with both embarrassment and something else as her eyes met mine.
“Let’s go inside, okay?” I asked softly.
“Yeah,” she agreed with a nod, staring into my eyes for a beat longer and then turning to open her door. I followed suit, rounding the hood and walking beside her to ensure she didn’t step on something that would hurt either of her bare feet.
My bag inconveniently still in my bike at the gym, I reached around the side of my door, behind the bush and pulled the hidden key out of its box before shoving it in the lock and opening the door.
With an extended arm, I suggested she go first, flipping on the switch for the light in the hall as I stepped in behind her.
“Just down and to your right,” I suggested, guiding her to the living room.
When she got to the opening, she hesitated.
Her eyes found mine as she asked, “Do you think I could take a quick shower? I’m sticky from the chalk and the rain kind of—”
“Of course.” I cut her off before hearing the rest. It didn’t matter why, other than meaning it needed rectifying.
“Come on,” I said. My hand fit directly in the slight hollow of her lower back, and her steps, though her legs were much shorter than mine, matched me beat for beat.
I reached around the wall in order to flick on the light switch in the bathroom, pushing the door out of the way and standing back to let her enter. “There are towels under the sink, shampoo and stuff in the shower. Sorry if it smells like guy, but—” I hollowed my cheeks in jest, “that’s kind of how I like to smell.”
She smiled slightly and stepped into the space, but as I turned to leave she stopped me with a hand to my shoulder.
“Is this how it’s gonna be from now on?”
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Awkward. Overly nice. Tiptoeing around one another?” she offered.
I only hid part of my smile. “For right now? Yeah, probably,” I admitted. “See, I’m a little skittish about running you off and you’re trying your best to convince me you can be something other than crabby.”
“Hey!”
I released the rest of my smile, letting it soar all the way to the tops of my cheeks and pull at the corners of my eyes.
And then I winked. “Don’t worry, though. Something tells me it won’t last.”
Her shoulders relaxed at the same pace as her face, draining her of tension and filling its void with understanding.
She’d still give me a hard time, and I was more than happy to give one back. There would never be a time when we didn’t yell, and no matter how right I was, she’d still fight me on admitting it.
But we’d get to fool around a little.
I, personally, felt like it couldn’t get much better than that.
“Go shower,” I instructed. “I’ll get you some clothes to put on.”
“Thanks,” she replied. Both of us knew she didn’t just mean for the clothes.
My bedroom just down the hall, I got a pair of shorts, boxers, and a t-shirt out of my dresser fairly quickly and headed back for the bathroom.
The water was on, but I knocked to make sure she was inside and not standing naked in the middle of the bathroom. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to be that way or didn’t want to see it, but I had a feeling she felt everything I was feeling times a million.
And to me, the whole day felt—
Surreal.
Before Nik had shown up a little over three weeks ago, I would have sworn up and down that unicorns shitting rainbows and giant cars made of candy were a more realistic possibility than me getting mixed up in some pseudo-forbidden romance with anyone, let alone my new coach.
Add in the fact that I knew I’d have to face questions about my behavior that day at some point—I lived with my parents for shit’s sake—and my head was reeling.