Nick and I discussed the room situation, and although the idea of having my own room was never off the table, I knew immediately that I wanted to be in the same room as Nick. If I had my own room, I’d just be sleeping in his room every night anyways, and there was no point. So I decided to make the spare room an office.
Nick locks the truck for the night, and we bring in a couple of air mattresses and sleeping bags. The movers are unloading tomorrow, but Nick declared tonight “housewarming night,” and we’re planning on ordering pizza for dinner. I haven’t thought about how I’m going to sleep on an air mattress with a broken leg, but I don’t dwell on it.
Once Nick orders the pizza, I help Bria get all set up in her room. I use an air machine to blow up her twin-sized mattress, and I make sure her sleeping bag and pillow are arranged nicely.
When we walk back downstairs, I can’t help but notice on my way down that Nick has a large air mattress and sleeping bags set up in the master bedroom—and two pillows. I’ve never slept with Nick before, so it’s kind of exhilarating.
“Pizza’s here,” I shout as the chime of the doorbell echoes in the empty hallway. I shuffle over as quickly as possible, but Nick sprints past me and pays. “Just because I’m on crutches doesn’t mean I’m a complete invalid.”
He just smirks and kisses me on the forehead. “I like you as an invalid.”
We all eat on the floor, and by the time we’re finished, Bria is asleep in my arms.
“I’m going to put her to bed. I’ll be right back,” he says, climbing the stairs two at a time with Bria asleep against him.
I smile and look around—we’ve been here less than two hours, and I already know that I’m going to love it. I eat another slice of pizza while I wait for Nick to come back. I try not to get nervous, but I can’t help but think that tonight is the night. The way Nick looked at me earlier… something tells me he can’t contain himself very much longer either.
He comes back down the stairs—two at a time, just like me. Well, before the accident. Now I hobble everywhere.
“She asleep?” I ask. My voice is loud against the bare walls.
“Yeah,” he says, and he sits down next to me, grabbing another slice of pizza.
I watch him as he eats, and I can’t help but become overwhelmed at how everything seemed to work out. For both of us. Being immobile and bedridden gave me a lot of time to think and a lot of time to reflect on Nick and how lucky I was to have found him—and how lucky he was to have found me. I know it’s sappy, but it feels like it was meant to be.
Well, that and the fact that Cecelia was a total meddler. But thank god she was, or else I wouldn’t be here, sitting on the floor with this handsome man, eating pizza in our new house, and feeling so fucking alive and lucky in spite of everything. Life is pretty damn good.
And he looks really fucking good in jeans and his tight T-shirt.
I lean back on my arms, and I watch Nick as he gets up to put the pizza in the kitchen. We don’t even have our refrigerator or a trash can, so I have no idea what takes him so long.
“Did you die in there?” I ask after a few minutes have passed.
“Give me a minute,” he says, and I hear him bang around. I think I hear the click of a lighter, but I’m not sure.
“What could you possibly be doing? We didn’t unpack anything except pajamas and our toothbrushes.”
“I brought a little something extra in. I’m sneaky,” he says as he comes back into the living room with two lit candelabras and a couple of small paper cups. He has a small blanket and a bottle of champagne under his arm.
“Smooth, Nicholas Wilder. Very smooth.”
“The champagne is warm,” he says apologetically. “Sorry.”
I laugh. “I happen to like warm champagne.”
He puts the blanket down and then the candles. He sets out the cups and comes to sit down next to me.