Page 164 of The Storm

That takes all the wind out of my sails. I lean against the wall opposite him and try to catch up.

“I work for him, Blue. And a couple of other guys on the team. I’m their private chef.”

“Oh.” I deflate even more.

Silence stretches between us.

“You didn’t want me to work for him. And that night after the club, you took me to his place, not yours.” Drawing conclusions based on that had come so easily.

“Because being near you is impossible!” he blurts. He looks at me, then away. He sighs and drags his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what we are. It’s like we only move in extremes. We either loathe each other or can’t keep our hands off each other. Nothing in between. And neither of those options really works anymore. I don’t know how to be around you. And I miss you.”

All the air whooshes out of my lungs. Whatever I expected him to say, this isn’t it. Hope crashes into me full force.

I miss you too.

I miss your face.

I miss your laugh.

I miss you. All of you.

I press my lips together and look away.

“It’s not exactly an easy reunion,” I say.

“I’m still so angry about everything.” He says that almost gently.

It doesn’t come as a shock. It doesn’t even hurt that much. He’s just putting into words something I already knew, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

“I don’t want to be,” he continues.

I stare at him. “You don’t?”

He chuckles softly and drags his hand through his hair as he shakes his head. “I’d like to think I’ve matured some in six years. At least a little bit.”

I eye him carefully with only one question bouncing around in my head.

So where does this leave us?

He pushes himself off the wall, eyes still on me, taking me in, drinking me down, eating me alive.

“Friends,” he says.

That’s… an idea.

I don’t know why I feel disappointed. At this point it’s the best we can hope for. A polite coexistence.

I swallow hard.

“Friends,” I say.

FIFTY

NICK

Friends.

I can be his friend.