Page 184 of The Storm
It hurts when I get dressed.
It hurts when I pull his front door shut behind me.
It hurts when I make my way down the stairs.
It hurts when I step outside into the cool, gray morning.
I stole his T-shirt because I’m an idiot.
I wish I hadn’t.
I wish I’d been strong enough not to. It’s not going to do me any good to keep it, but I couldn’t resist.
I take one more look up at his windows.
My chest aches.
I don’t think that’s changing any time soon.
FIFTY-SIX
NICK
When I wake up,my bed is empty. I listen for sounds coming from anywhere in the apartment, but there’s nothing.
“Blue?”
Nothing.
I stare at the ceiling, images of the last twenty-four hours rushing through my brain. A film reel of moments of him and me.
In hindsight, it was never a question of whether we would break. It was always a question of when.
I blow out a breath and scrub my hands over my face.
Is it possible to never be over somebody?
Even grief lessens over time, but my obsession with Blue is as strong as the first moment I laid eyes on him.
He’s my siren song.
His presence lingers all around me. My bed smells like him.
It won’t be the last time.
I already know.
FIFTY-SEVEN
INDY
By the timeI walk into work later that morning, I’m composed mostly of adrenaline and nerves, which doesn’t make any sense since Nick never works in the morning at Callum’s. I don’t let that kind of logic stop me from internally freaking out, though.
The smart thing, I’m beginning to think, would have been to stay at Nick’s until he woke up and just faced the awkward music then and there, but the idea of watching him open his eyes and seeing regret there… I mean, it might have not happened? But there was a chance, and facing it seemed impossible. Not after everything that had happened between us.
I know he might regret me, I just don’t want to see it for myself.
Which means here I am, stomach in knots, jumping every time I hear a noise, preparing myself to face Nick, and it will be awkward as fuck, and it will hurt, and why am I such a fucking idiot?
