Chapter 98
1874words
I couldn't imagine what it must have been like to grow up with such a man.
Not that Mitchell had much of a hand in actually raising Nicholas. Like most children born into wealth and privilege, Nicholas was raised by nannies until he was shipped off to boarding school to grow up with the rest of the future senators, CEO's, and leaders of the free world.
What few childhood memories he had of Mitchell were few and far between, and despite the rest of his life being an open book, Nicholas certainly wasn't sharing.
A few things had slipped out over the years. Things said in rare, unguarded moments of either intoxication or rage. Things that were chilling enough to make my toes curl.
But for the most part, both father and son seemed content to leave the past in the past. It was for the best, too. Aside from a towering height and proclivity for beautiful women and lots of money—the two had been virtual strangers from the start. It was an uneasy truce, but one that had served as the fundamental basis of their relationship for years.
Mitchell lived his life, while Nicholas was free to live his own. It wasn't until recently that things had begun to overlap, and despite having worked for the family for a little over two years, I could count on one hand the number of times I'd seen them together.
That being said, there was still something a little scary about Mitchell—no matter how far removed he might be. Perhaps it was that, even so far away, he was still the only person in the world who could make Nicholas make that face.
He saw me looking, and quickly smoothed it clear.
'The thing about my dad is...he can always manage to ruin a good day. So let's not talk about him anymore." He pushed to his feet, rendering the conversation closed. At first, I thought he was upset—but then he reached down his hand with a tender smile. 'And I had a really good day, Avy."
I beamed back, and let him help me to my feet. According to the clock on the wall, it was already coming up on two in the morning. Had we really been talking that long?
'Me too."
It wasn't flattery or exaggeration. Truth be told, it was the best day I could remember having in a long, long time.
'Same thing tomorrow?" I asked, tilting my head with a teasing smile.
Without seeming to think about it, he reached out and stroked a long finger all the way down the length of my face. I froze beneath his hand, shivering as he lingered near my jaw.
Then, as quickly as he'd touched me, he pulled away.
'Actually...how would you feel about something a little different tomorrow?"
'Different?" I repeated, well aware that in Nicholas's world, ‘different' wasn't exactly limited to this side of the Atlantic. 'What did you have in mind?"
He let me hang for only a second, before flashing me a sparkling smile.
'Let me take you out tomorrow...on a date."
My eyebrows shot up into my hair. We had been on dates before. The other night at the boxing exhibition was technically a date. But dates were for public viewing. They weren't a random thing the two of us would decide to do. So...was that supposed to be my cue?
'Okay...um..." I pushed back my hair, trying my very best to snap back into business mode. 'Where did you want to go? If it's still within the city limits, I could tip off the press—"
'No press." He pushed my hands away, and pulled me a step closer. There was just an inch or two of space between us now. I could see every fleck of green in those blue eyes. 'No cameras or other people. Just you and me. A date."
I shook my head blankly, still trying to understand.
'Like...a date, date?"
He grinned, but held back a laugh at my grade-school terminology.
'Yeah, Avy. Like a date, date."
A date. Go out on a date with Nicholas Huntington.
He watched as I considered, waiting patiently as I turned the phrase over in my mind. No matter which way I looked at it, something didn't add up.
'You don't date."
It was true. Nicholas went out with girls—but not ever with any sort of romantic designs. He went out because he liked to be out. Liked to see shows, go to clubs, eat fancy dinners. They weren't designed to impress, they weren't designed to create any added amount of intimacy. To be honest, he knew he didn't have to. No matter what happened, by the end of the night, they always ended up sleeping with him anyway.
Hence my confusion.
He hesitated for a second, acknowledging the awkward truth. But when he looked down into my eyes, there was an honesty and a vulnerability there I had never seen before.
'I would date you."
My heartbeat quickened, as my lips fell open just a hair. It was the very last thing I ever expected him to say. And while I might not exactly understand his reasons, I couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed by the whole thing.
'Come on," he coaxed, dipping his head to catch my eye. 'I won't even bring Max."
I let out a laugh, before gazing back up into his eyes.
Was he actually serious? Could this actually be happening?
'Do you even know how to date?" I stalled, leaning back with a coy grin. 'What exactly might this date consist of?"
'Easy," he said without missing a beat, 'dinner and a movie."
I laughed again. No doubt he had googled ‘normal person date' right before asking, and was thoroughly pleased with himself. Then my smile faded, as I looked up at him once more.
A date with Nicholas Huntington?
Yeah...I could do that.
'Pick me up at seven?"
His eyes twinkled.
'Seven it is."
And with those words, our normal day came to a close.
The two of us bid each other a hasty goodnight, and disappeared to separate corners of the house. Our heads spinning from the last twelve hours. Our bodies bracing for the next twelve.
The room I'd selected to be my own, had been a longtime favorite of mine. The adjoining bathroom featured one of those walk-in showers I adored, and a tub as big as the entire living room at my old apartment. An enormous bay window opened out onto a balcony with a beautiful view of the park, and everything from the canopy bed to the high silk curtains made me feel like I was playing the part of a princess for the night.
It was also right down the hall from Nicholas.
This was a fact that I tried my best to keep from dwelling on as I brushed my teeth, combed out my hair, and quickly went through the rest of my nighttime routine. Although all my new clothes and toiletries wouldn't arrive until late tomorrow, the room was already stocked with anything and everything I might need. Much nicer stuff than what I'd bought, actually.
I found a sapphire silk bathrobe in the closet, and slipped it over my shoulders as I headed out onto the balcony. The sounds of the city swirled up around me, like a comforting cloud—a home that carried with you no matter what side of the bridge you were on. But unlike my old apartment, we were high enough up that instead of coming at you from all sides, it was reduced to a pleasant background noise. A gentle hum, providing a context and meditative ambiance to your thoughts.
I closed my eyes and leaned over as far as I could, dangling down my long hair as I wrapped my hands firmly around the rail. We were so high! High enough to look out over the entire city. I could easily see how someone could get used to this. If I actually did live here full time, I think I might spend a portion of every night doing this exact same thing.
Then a sudden movement caught my eye, and I ducked behind the granite wall.
It seems I'm not the only one who needs to clear my head...
Just a stone's throw away, Nicholas had wandered out onto his own balcony. It was a nicer day, about sixty four degrees. We didn't get many nice days like these too often at this time of season. And there he was... Tall, handsome, and topless—wearing only a pair of low hanging pants. As his eyes roved out over the cityscape, he leaned forward to rest his chin on his hands—lost in thought.
A melancholy prince, alone in his castle.
For a moment, I couldn't help but stare. He hadn't seen me yet, and given my position behind the wall, I was completely hidden from sight. I could stare to my heart's content, soaking in all the intoxicating details without judgement or shame.
There was a reason why Nicholas was one of the most desirable men in the world. There was a reason that everyone from pop stars to eastern European royalty would stop what they were doing at the drop of a hat, and fly out to meet him at a single call.
The man was beautiful. There simply wasn't another way to put it.
He had one of those faces you saw on the cover of books growing up as a child. The face of the hero or the adventurer. The poet or the pirate. The guy who always beat the bad guy, got the girl, and was still always looking out toward the horizon.
It was the eyes. You could see entire worlds in those eyes.
Everything else was just icing on the cake.
The glowing skin. The sculpted body. The golden hair and careless grin. Twice, he had been made a six-figure offer for the movie rights to his life. Twice, he had turned it down.
Everyone wanted him. Everyone wanted to be him.
And yet...what struck me most tonight was the look on his face.
There was a faint crease running down the center of his forehead, and a protective tension to the way he was holding his hands. Like he was trying to literally hold himself together. To self-soothe. His lips, always on the constant verge of smiling, had thinned to a thoughtful line, and as the wind danced his hair across his forehead, I could have sworn I heard him sigh.
With a stab of concern, I leaned an inch or two forward. I was on the verge of calling out to him. On the verge of running from my room to his, just to find out what was wrong.
But the next second, he straightened suddenly and walked back inside. The lights turned off in his room just a second after that, then all was quiet.
...what was that about?
