Page 76 of The Switched-Up Playbook
Nicko and I thought we were clever by leaving it at a one-time thing, but I cannot get that afternoon out of my head. At the very least I want to have one more talk about it. Maybe– I cut myself off. Why speculate when I can just ask.
I pull some sweatpants over my boxers but don’t bother with a T-shirt. I feel like a burglar as I make my way downstairs through the quiet house, every room dark until I make it to the living room.
As I hoped, the TV is still on. In the low light it takes me two glances to be sure it’s Nicko sitting in the shimmering glow. He’s watching some replays of last year’s Frozen Four; I recognize the yellow jerseys of BostonU clashing with the bright red ones of the Chicago Comets.
“Hey,” I whisper-shout to not startle him. He still flinches and reaches for the remote. His eyes look almost blue in the light of the TV as they find me.
“What the hell,” Nicko grumbles, and for a moment I see my surname hover on his lips before he cuts himself off.
“Sorry,” I say and mean:Get over it.“Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Have a feeling you’re going to anyway, even if I said no,” Nicko sasses, but he turns down the volume while I sit down on the edge of the couch. Then I think better of it and scoot a little closer so I can keep my voice low.
“I just wanted to make sure we’re okay,” I start, slowly, dragging my lower lip through my teeth. The words aren’t quite the right ones, but I hope Nicko understands.
He snorts instead, looking at me with raised brows. “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Because we–”
“Christ, Ale– Xa–...Xanxan.”
“What, that’s the best nickname you could come up with? Not exactly polka-dotted puppy worthy.”
“Shut up. Besides, why are you going all soft? We fucked, so what?” he whispers the last part, throwing a look over my shoulder as if he expects his words to go through the house like an alarm.
Not letting myself be deterred, I try again. “I know. And I’m not going soft, I just...what we...I mean…” God, I hate stammering like that, so I cut myself off, take a deep breath and set my shoulders.
I’m not some blushing virgin, and neither am I prone to falling for just anyone over sex. But it doesn’tfeellikejustsex.
I hated Nicko's guts for three years after all, and not without reason either. But then, over the last few days, I have seen those sides of him that remind me of all the tense moments between us when I thought he was Nate. How different I felt about my supposed best friend then. The sparks that made me feel challenged.
I want more of that. At the least I want to make sure I'm not the only one who's seeing the other differently now.
I turn to look straight at him, leaving no room for evasion.
“What I mean,” I start again, voice resolute and just a bit louder than before, “I wanted to ask you–”
Nicko gets on his knees, leaning forward until he has to catch himself with one hand against my chest.
“Shut up, Xanxan,” he breathes, as if his sudden closeness hasn’t already rendered me mute. His mouth slides against mine as he pushes me back.
I land on the cushions, Nicko’s body on top of me. I welcome the weight, curling one arm around his waist, the other finding its way into his hair, tangling in the light strands. His head tilts and we both gasp for air before we dive back into one another.
Nicko’s teeth are sharp against my lower lip. I tug on his hair in retaliation for the spike of pain as he bites down.
He growls, then his tongue slides into my mouth, pushing against mine. As always, he fights for the upper hand.
I do my best to fight back, even when I’m at a disadvantage with my legs framing Nicko’s, my hands pulling him closer instead of pushing to turn him over.
His hips rub against my own, and I break away from his mouth with a harsh groan.
We both freeze, our bodies tense as we wait for a noise that could announce that someone has heard us.
The house stays quiet.
I kiss the sigh of relief off of Nicko’s lips, chasing him as he sits up. My hands slide over his thighs, under the hem of his shirt. I never got my question out, but the moment has passed. His interruption was answer enough.
If he wants to keep things strictly physical, I can do that. And if he really meantjust to get it out of our system…well, it’s not out of my system yet.
