“Della.”
As I walked up the dark pathway, I jumped at the sound of my name, pressing a hand to my hammering chest to calm it down, since I instantly recognized the voice. I thought for a nanosecond there was some creepster lurking in the dark, waiting for me, but it was just Nash.
“Hey,” I called out as my feet hit the first step, and he stood up from one of the many neon-colored Adirondack chairs that lined our front porch. “What are you doing here? I’ve been trying to—”
I wasn’t able to get any words out of my mouth, because suddenly, Nash’s covered it. My hands flailed wildly out to the sides as he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, crushing my body against his. I froze in place, not knowing what in the hell to do, as his lips assaulted mine, so warm and familiar, all too comforting, but wrong. So, so wrong. This was not right.
“Nash.” I pushed him away, slapping at his hand that had slipped under the bottom of my shirt without me even realizing it. “What in the hell was that?” I rubbed at my lips with the back of my hand, noticing that it was slightly shaky.
His mouth hung open as he stared back at me, lacing both hands behind his neck. I looked at him for the first time since I arrived, the porch light just barely giving me a glimpse of him. I mean, I really looked at him. He seemed worn out. His sandy brown hair was messier than usual, sticking up on one side. The clothes he wore appeared to have been slept in, and there were deep bags under his warm brown eyes.
“I’m sorry, Della. That shouldn’t have happened,” he responded hoarsely.
“No shit, Nash. What’s going on? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for the past week.” Not that I was looking for that. If I’d known that’s how he was going to greet me, I would’ve ran straight back to Callie’s car. This was so not happening. We were supposed to be only friends. He had Mariah and a baby on the way. Nash and I just weren’t meant to be, and I was totally okay with that. Maybe he had other ideas?
“I know.” He swallowed thickly, and tilted his head toward the door. “Think we can go inside to talk?”
“Um…I don’t know, that depends. Are you going to keep those to yourself?” I pointed at his lips, still puffy from the recent assault on my mouth, and he gave a slight nod of his head.
I wasn’t so sure if I could believe him, so I pulled out my keys while never taking my eyes off of him and opened the door. I threw my bags on the couch, flipping on lights as I walked through the living room into the kitchen, stopping to sit down at the table, and motioning for him to sit at the chair across from me.
He sat there silently, staring at me for what felt like ten minutes straight, while I squirmed in my seat over the awkwardness between us from that stupid kiss. Why did he have to go and ruin everything like that?
I know, we kind of did stuff behind Mariah’s back when they were still dating before, but now, it just felt so wrong. I knew that Nash and I weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend material, and I certainly knew that he was going to be a dad. I wasn’t about to be some home-wrecker. Maybe I was overthinking things. Maybe he was drunk or something. Did I taste liquor on him when he rammed his tongue down my throat? I couldn’t remember. My brain wasn’t really functioning at the time. I had been busy trying to figure out what in the hell was happening, not what his tongue tasted like.
Nash blew out a loud breath, and I sat up straighter, snapping my attention back to him. “I don’t want to be like my dad.”
I could see the deep pain in his brown eyes as he stared back at me, and that one simple sentence hit me hard. Nash suffered over the years at the hands of his dad, by the abuse he dealt out almost on a daily basis. I questioned myself over and over, how had I never seen it during the summers I spent at my grandparents’ house? Nash never really talked about it, other than the one time when he finally told me about the abuse. He didn’t want it brought up, and really, I could understand why. It was in the past and it needed to stay there.
“Nash.” I reached across the table and gripped his hand in mine, giving a light squeeze as I tried to think of the right words. “You’re not your dad. You will never be your dad. You’re too good of a person for that. I’ve seen you with your niece, remember? You’re amazing with her, and she loves you so much because of the person you are. We can’t let our parents’ actions mold our futures. You’re going to be the best dad any little boy could have.”