Taylor could occasionally be a noisy roommate, so Nick had taken to wearing noise-cancelling headphones when he was writing at home.
As a result, he didn’t hear when she got home from whatever she’d been doing with her weekend.
He couldn’t hear her knock either, which she’d figured out, and in the week and a half since he’d issued his proclamation that they keep their hands off each other, she’d taken to entering his room without knocking, oftentimes plopping on his bed and fiddling on her phone until he finished whatever scene he was working on and turned to see what she wanted.
Tonight, however, she wasn’t so patient, and after two minutes of trying to ignore her pacing, he peeled his headphones off with a sigh. “What the hell is up your ass, Carr?”
She clapped her hands, delighted to be paid attention to. “I need help. Please. Whenever you get to a good pausing point.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t even pretend to be patient and agreeable. Did you mangle a wine cork again?”
“Nope.” She grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the living room.
He went, only because he had writer’s block and wasn’t getting anything good on the page anyway.
She dropped his hand the second they got into the living room, and Nick felt the loss of contact immediately.
Every time she touched him, no matter how casually, he came damn close to forgetting all about his idiotic one-month proclamation and taking her against the wall or on the couch. Or the counter. Or the floor. He didn’t care. It had been only a few days, and already he was dying.
Also he was wondering if she was dying, because the woman hadn’t made a single sexual reference since his proclamation, and he was seriously starting to wonder if he’d mishandled the entire situation.
Perhaps he should have taken what she offered when she’d offered it.
Taylor bent over to rummage in a shopping bag, and he stifled a groan at the sight of her ass in denim.
Then she turned around, and his attention shifted to the box in her hand.
“Nintendo,” he said.
She nodded excitedly.
“Are we hosting a ten-year-old boy’s birthday party?”
She thrust the box at his chest, then returned to her bag, pulling out no fewer than five games.
“Can you set it up for me?”
“You’re serious?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking,” she said, biting her lip. “You said that my life was too planned and that I always had an agenda, and I was thinking that was sort of true. I don’t really know how to have fun just for fun’s sake.”
“And you think video games are the way to go. Did you get a Nerf gun too?”
She glanced down at her shoes, and he almost felt bad for teasing her. “I’ve never played.” Taylor looked up again. “Isn’t that sad? Karen thought video games and television rotted your brain. And I was an awkward kid, didn’t get invited to a lot of parties.”
He groaned and took the Nintendo toward the TV. “You’re killing me, Carr.”
She grinned back. “I knew if I made you feel sorry for me, you’d help me.”
Her voice was teasing, but they both knew there was a sad truth in what she’d said. Once again he found himself cursing her aunt. His own parents had been strict about screen time, had forced him to eat the occasional vegetable, all that shit, but they’d also understood that kids needed to have fun. To play fucking Mario Kart every now and again.
He connected the appropriate cords and adjusted the settings on the TV before turning his attention toward the games she’d set on the coffee table. “What are we starting with?”
The uncertainty on her face was heartbreaking.
“You can’t make a mistake, Taylor. Just pick one.”
She bit her lip, and he sighed. Relenting, he picked up Mario Kart. “It’s a classic.”
“Oh! That one. The nerdy guy at Best Buy insisted I needed this if I was going to play with more than one person….”
She leapt off the couch toward the shopping bag, which was apparently a never-ending source of video game nirvana.
Taylor held up a plastic steering wheel and another controller. “Right? Won’t this be fun?”
He shook his head in exasperation, then beckoned her to bring them to him. “Do I even want to know how much you spent on all this?”
“Less than I spent on these boots,” she said, lifting her foot.
Nick pointed at the couch. “Sit.”
She did as he said, all but bouncing as he loaded the game. Nick handed her the main controller, which she took tentatively. Then she looked up at him and patted the seat beside her hopefully.
Nick sighed. “If we’re doing this, we’re going to need drinks.”
Ten minutes later—no bartender worth his salt would rush a drink—he sat beside her on the couch and handed her an old-fashioned garnished with cherries he’d soaked in brandy himself.
“You know I’m going to kick your ass, right?” he said, picking up the second controller.
In response, she leaned over and kissed his cheek.
Nick gave her a startled look, and then was even more surprised to see Taylor Carr blushing—not an everyday occurrence.
Maybe they could survive the next two and a half weeks just being platonic after all.
“So,” she said, turning her attention to the television before she snuggled closer, her hip pressing enticingly against his.
He thought it was an accident, but then he caught the flush of her cheek. The knowing smirk on her lips.
Nope. He wasn’t the only one still thinking about what it would be like when they got naked.
He grinned and proceeded to teach Taylor Carr everything he knew about Mario Kart.
Biding his time until he taught her everything he knew about other things.
Chapter 17
“Wait, wait—wait for me!” Brit and Taylor looked up to see Daisy half running toward their table, the movement surprisingly agile given her high heels.
“Whew,” Daisy said, dropping into the chair beside Brit, her blond hair disheveled. “I’m so sorry I’m late, but tell me I didn’t miss anything good.”
Brit gestured toward Taylor. “Not to worry. Our girl here’s spent the better part of the last fifteen minutes debating between spicy tuna and spicy salmon.”
Daisy wrinkled her nose and looked at Taylor. “Who cares about the sushi order? We want the good stuff.”
Taylor glanced up over the top of her menu. “I’m starting with miso soup.”
Daisy reached out and shoved Taylor’s menu to the table. “You and Nick. Details. Now.”
Taylor sighed and took a sip of her water. “Is this the only reason you girls took me to lunch today?”
“No,” Daisy said, at the exact same time Brit said, “Yes.”
“What?” Brit said with a guiltless shrug in response to Daisy’s glare. “I haven’t gotten any in a long time—I need to live vicariously.”
“Well, then, you’ll have to ask Daiz here, because I’m not getting any either.”