I knocked on the door. Nessa opened it after a moment, looking through the chain. “Hey,” she said quickly before closing the door again, undoing the chain, and opening the door for me.
“Hey there,” I said, feeling awkward.
“I’d ask how you are, but you’re the one who had to sleep on that couch. I can guess.”
I shrugged as I set my bag down on the coffee table. “I didn’t mind. I just didn’t want you to be alone.”
Nessa looked at me and bit her lip. “I’m glad you were here. Even though I kind of resented it at the time.”
My eyebrows winged up. “Why would you resent it?”
“I hated that I couldn’t do it all on my own. And I don’t like becoming a statistic. The cops said they would talk to him. But, apparently, his dad is a lawyer and already on it.”
“That’s what we figured,” I grumbled.
She narrowed her eyes. “We?”
I sat down on the couch and rolled my neck. “The guys. Of course, we talked about it, Nessa. I’m honestly surprised they didn’t come here with me, stomping and following me around.”
She snorted. “They’ll probably be here in like thirty minutes.”
I shook my head. “No, they know I’m here.”
“Ah, so you guys are going to rotate?”
“Maybe. I’ll have you know it’s better than the alternative.”
She narrowed her eyes and then sighed. “They want us to all move in there, don’t they?”
“Yes. You and Natalie could share Sanders’ old room.”
“Oh, that’s nice. We lose our house and are safe with the big, bad men who will protect us from everything. And, suddenly, the guys are living with their girlfriends. That’s a big step. But, sure, the sad little single girls can share the smallest room in the house.”
“I think Tanner’s room is the smallest.”
She laughed. “Great, that’s so helpful.”
“Just making conversation.”
“I hate this conversation.”
“That guy attacked you,” I said. “I fucking hated that.”
“I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. How am I supposed to pretend like it didn’t happen? But I’m going to try. I have work, school, and my life.”
“Did you tell your dad?” I asked softly.
She shook her head, and I cursed. “Don’t curse at me. I don’t know how to tell him that I was attacked. We reported it. The girls know. The guys know. Dad doesn’t need to know right now. He has enough on his plate.”
Something in her tone worried me. “What do you mean by that?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I searched her face before nodding, then pulled out my textbook. “Let’s get through some statistics, and then maybe you can show me how to cook something,” I said, trying to relieve the tension.
She smiled up at me. “I can do that.”
I sat next to her on the couch and felt her heat. I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell I was doing. I should stay away from her. Yes, I wanted to protect her. Yes, I wanted her to be okay. But being next to her? Being next to the girl I’d had a crush on for over a year now, the one I kept thinking about, even though she wasn’t for me? That was masochistic.
I couldn’t hold back. Yet, I couldn’t stay away.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered.
I swallowed hard. “What?”
“He didn’t hurt me, Miles. Not really. I’m fine.” She rubbed her arm.
I narrowed my eyes. “Did he hurt you for real?”
“No. No bruises. I thought he might leave one on my arm, but nothing formed.”
“I wish I could just punch him and make things better, but I know violence doesn’t solve things.”
“I don’t know, kneeing him in the balls was kind of nice.”
I snorted. “Kind of sad I wasn’t the one to do that.”
“I’m just glad I could take care of myself.”
“You could. You did. It was pretty damn amazing.”
“Thanks,” she whispered, and her gaze went to my mouth. At least, I thought it did.
“There’s something you should know,” she said after a moment.
I looked down at her. “What?” I asked, my voice soft, barely above a whisper.
“I remember.”
I blinked and looked at her. “What do you remember?”
“I remember the kiss. I remember acting like an idiot and drinking too much. I remember how sweet you were, how you took care of me. But I remember the kiss, Miles. And I want to apologize.”
My heart raced, and I tried to keep up. She remembered? After all this time, she remembered. And she hadn’t said a thing.
I shook my head. “You remember us kissing.”
“I remember me kissing you and practically forcing myself on you.” She shuddered.
I reached out and gripped her hand. She looked down at it, and I swallowed hard. “You didn’t force me to kiss you. I didn’t kiss you. You were drunk, and I wasn’t about to do anything to hurt you. I remember, too. I wanted to kiss you. Damn it, Nessa, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. So don’t fucking apologize.”
Her eyes widened, and I hated that I had probably said too much.
“You wanted to kiss me? For a long time? I don’t understand.”
“Forget I said anything. Let’s worry about school and classes and all of that. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, you should. You should talk to me. I thought you didn’t want to talk about it because you regretted it.”
“Hell, no. I didn’t regret it. I don’t. Other than the fact that you were hurting and drunk, and I was trying to put you to bed when you kissed me. I thought you didn’t remember it, and I didn’t want to bring it up because that would have been awkward as fuck. Probably as awkward as it is right now.”
She stood up and began to pace. I stood, as well, not wanting to sit when she was standing.
“You wanted to kiss me.”
“Nessa, every time I’m near you, I want to kiss you. Only you never wanted me. We both know who you wanted.”
She looked at me then, and I stuffed my hands into my pockets. If I didn’t, I knew I would want to reach out and touch her. And I shouldn’t. I knew damn well that I shouldn’t.
“I don’t want Pacey. Not anymore. It was just a crush that got twisted in my head. I kept making a fool of myself because of it. Pacey’s still my friend and he always will be, but I didn’t love him like I thought I did. And that’s on me. I kissed you. Maybe because I was drinking and thinking about you and anything but what I should have been thinking of. But I only regret that I was stupid about it. I didn’t hate it, Miles. And the problem is, I keep thinking about you, too. And I shouldn’t.”
“You keep thinking about me, too,” I repeated.
“Of course, I do. You’re sweet, and you’re nice, and…stop looking at me like that,” Nessa warned. I shrugged.
“There’s that nice thing again.”