Her head hit the pillow, she crashed.
But Nick lay with her pressed against him, staring at the ceiling, knowing the time had come for him to get shit done.
He lay there knowing it and wondering how the fuck he was going to get her safe and free.
He lay there knowing it, needing to do it, and also knowing he’d spent a weekend with his woman in Vegas, two two-hour plane rides where they weren’t fucking, eating, drinking, whispering about important shit or having fun, and he still had not come clean about where he was with her when they began.
It was good they’d had Vegas. She was relaxing into what they had. She was believing. She was trusting.
Tomorrow.
That shit had to come out tomorrow.
They’d needed Vegas.
Now it was time.
Nick had learned a lot since sorting his head and his life.
Unfortunately, the last lesson would be the hardest.
That lesson being he shouldn’t procrastinate.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Brightside
Olivia
10:23 – Monday Morning
I was coasting into the parking area around the warehouse when my phone rang. I saw on my dash computer it was Nick so I took the call as I guided my Evoque to a spot.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“What are you doin’ at the warehouse?” he asked curtly in reply.
He still had a man following me.
His men had to have better things to do. Not to mention it was expensive to waste one following me everywhere.
And having one tail me was a reminder of why I needed to be tailed, which wasn’t pleasant.
I would be glad when those days were at an end.
“Georgia texted,” I began to explain. Having glided into a spot, I threw it in park. “Wanted a meet. Her schedule today is such she couldn’t get to me, so I’m coming to her.”
“My guy can’t get anywhere near that warehouse, Liv,” he told me.
“It’s just a meet with my sister. Not a big deal. She wants to go over some new investments I’m suggesting.”
“I don’t like this,” he muttered like he wasn’t talking to me.
I didn’t like it either. I never liked being at the warehouse.
But this would one day come to an end.
I believed.
Nick Sebring was not Tom Leary.
And I was no longer the Olivia Shade I was when I was twenty-five.
I was smart and I was savvy. I had a good head on my shoulders.
And I could make a man like Nick Sebring talk about having a future with me.
Babies.
The only thing I wasn’t was strong. I had to admit that to myself so I could face it.
I’d had my strength burned right out of me.
No, I’d let them burn the strength right out of me.
Then I let them do whatever they wanted to do and I’d quit fighting. I’d quit dreaming.
I’d quit believing.
Now, Nick was showing me another way. He’d once been another man, a maybe not-so-good one, and he’d learned. He’d learned not to be petty and selfish and manipulative.
He’d grown up. He’d become his own man. He’d become the master of his destiny.
And he saw something in me.
I honest to God didn’t know what.
But if he saw it, if he liked it, if he wanted a future with it, I wanted to give it to him.
I wanted to make it worth it.
I wanted it for myself.
Nick had needed to grow up.
I didn’t need to grow up. I was grown up. Too grown up. I felt a million years old.
So no, I didn’t need to grow up.
I needed to grow a backbone.
Nick wanted to look out for me. He wanted to find a way to make me free.
I loved that.
But I had to help.
And I had to make that struggle (and it was going to be a struggle) worth it.
Thinking about all of this on the plane, wanting a life with Nick in it, wanting the future he was leading us to, as well as coming to terms with all of this, I also had to admit I was scared shitless.
But I was beginning to understand that having a backbone wasn’t about being brave and stupid, jumping in with both feet, rushing to meet the horizon, so as the sun peaked it burned you blind.
It was about being scared shitless, knowing the source of your fears, understanding them, outsmarting them, and going forth to conquer them anyway.
I didn’t know what his plan would be.
I just knew whatever it was, I had to find the strength to be with him all the way so I’d feel worthy of being with him the rest of the way.
“I’ll be in and out,” I assured him. “Georgia’s got all sorts of stuff on. She’s never been overly interested in this kind of thing anyway. I’ll probably be back in my car on the way to my office in half an hour.”
“I want you texting me when you’re out of there,” he ordered.
Patiently, I reminded him, “I don’t text and drive, Nick.”
“Then pull over, Olivia, and text me, or just call me and talk to me on your fuckin’ Bluetooth like you’re doin’ now.”
At that curt demand, and the open disquiet behind it, I felt a chill slide over my scalp.
Even so, I assured Nick again. “I’m just meeting Georgie, sweetheart.”
“Just contact me one way or another when you’re out of there, babe. Yeah?”