Page 33

Nicky

It’s no use. Sleep will not come; my ribs are throbbing too much.

I shift under my sheets and groan, running a hand through my messy hair, frustrated. It’s been just over twenty-four hours since I left the hospital and between my bruised ribs and memories of the crash playing on a continuous loop in my head, sleep has evaded me.

“Nicky?”

My stomach flips at the sound of her soft voice through the door and, gritting my teeth, I force myself to sit up.

“Cherry?”

Come on, man. Who else would it be?

“Yes, it’s me.” She flitters into the room, rushing to my side to tug on the corner of my blanket, pulling it out from where it is wrapped around my legs.

She seems to have a sixth sense for this, instinctively knowing how to make me feel better.

Though, realistically, just her mere presence makes me feel better.

“What’s going on?” she asks, standing at my bedside.

“I can’t sleep,” I admit .

Her eyes travel over my chest and stomach, as I sit naked from the waist up, and I note the way her breath catches and the way she slowly licks her lips. Despite the kaleidoscope of black and blue bruises colouring my skin, I can tell she likes what she sees.

Now I feel infinitely better.

After a long, charged moment, she shakes her head and smooths out the sheet over my legs, her coconut scent drifting from her hair up into my nose. “Have you taken your pain meds?”

I shake my head no. I’ve been avoiding taking the meds since leaving the hospital for two reasons.

One, I hate the idea of how addictive they can be.

And two, and most importantly, James gleefully informed me of how loopy I behaved around Cherry at the hospital and my male pride didn’t want to go through that again.

Not with her.

“Wait here,” she sighs. I watch her walk away, my hands fisting the sheets next to me as I get a proper look at what she’s wearing. Or not wearing, as the case may be.

“Those damn pyjamas again,” I mutter under my breath, forcing my gaze up to the ceiling. “I think she’s trying to kill me with those things.”

“Here.” She re-emerges from my ensuite bathroom and leans over to hand me my pills. The front of her shirt gapes open and I jerk away from her, moaning as my ribs burn in protest.

“Nicky,” she chides me, not realising she’s causing me the most discomfort, coming in here looking and smelling like that. “Take these. It will help.”

My mouth sets in a mutinous line as we stare at each other. It’s not until she utters a “Nicky, please,” that I give in. I’ll give her everything when she uses that pleading tone .

I swallow the pills as she swallows her triumphant smile, and I lean back, blowing out a shallow breath.

“Let me get you some ice.”

“Thank you, Cherry.” I grab her hand to stop her from leaving. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bear.”

She giggles; her dimple popping, lifting my spirits. “You’ve been fine. I can’t imagine what all this must feel like.”

I look down at where she’s waving. The bruises on my ribs and chest are darker and more painful looking than yesterday. According to Cherry and Doctor Google, this means they are healing. According to me, this means they hurt like the devil.

“I’ll go and get you that ice pack.” She squeezes my hand and hurries out of the room.

I watch her until she’s out of sight before letting out another deeper groan.

She’s been such an attentive nurse since she offered to look after me at the hospital, tending to my every medical need.

But I’ve seen the way she’s looking at me when she thinks I’m unaware.

Watching me in pain is hurting her, so I’m spending most of my time pretending to be better than I am.

It’s exhausting, but also worth it to wipe that tight, pained expression off her face.

Feeling the effects of the medications kicking in, I inch my body down to a lying position and close my eyes.

The burning sensation in my chest and stomach has dulled enough that I could fall asleep now, but I’m struggling through it.

Cherry will be back here any minute; I don’t want to miss out on any time with her.

Even if looking at her in that outfit is causing me more discomfort than my bruised ribs.

“Here you go.” I hear her soft, melodious voice through what feels like cotton wool in my head.

I turn towards the sound, fighting against the blackness enveloping me.

Blinking against my sluggish eyelids, I look over to find her sitting in a chair next to my bed, sans ice pack, with a blanket over her lap.

Like she’s settling in for the night. A night of watching over me.

Not going to happen.

“Cherry?” I mumble, my tongue thick in my mouth. I knew I shouldn’t have taken those pills. “What are you doing?

“I’m making sure you’re okay.”

Her words jumble around in my head. “I’m fine. You should go to bed.”

“I will.” She stays unmoving, leaning back in her chair, her eyes glued to me.

“Cherry, it’s the middle of the night.” At least I’m pretty sure it is. Who knows, with the way my head is spinning, it could be morning. “I won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re sitting here next to me.”

Her lips set in a firm line. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

This penetrates my muffled thoughts, and I scoff. “That is never going to happen.”

“I just need to be near you.”

Her soft words drift over me and I understand what she’s saying without saying.

Ever since the crash, things have shifted between us.

I’d thought it was coming from me, from my brush with mortality and the realisation that I could have died without ever telling her how much she means to me.

But perhaps the accident has shaken something in her as well.

This, her needing to be close to me, to make sure I’m really okay, may be saying she feels the same way.

My chest pinches at this thought and I hold her gaze with mine as I weigh what I’m about to say. “There’s only one way we both get what we want here.”

She tilts her head, her long hair falling over one shoulder and tumbling down over her chest. “How? ”

I pat the spot next to me. “Stay here with me.”

Her breath catches, loud in the quiet room and my heart thunders as I wait for her response. Did I just ask my best friend’s little sister to stay in my room with me? To sleep in my bed?

“Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes.” I run my hand through my already messy hair. “I’m sure.”

Before I can blink, she’s crawling into the space in my bed next to me, settling against the pillow beside me. “This way I can check on you throughout the night,” she says.

I swallow thickly and nod, my eyes roaming over her lovely face and down her neck and shoulders to where she’s pulled the blanket up.

I’ve dreamt many nights about having Cherry in my bed, but the reality of it, of her across from me looking at me with those ocean-blue eyes, is better than anything my imagination has fed me.

“Okay,” I croak, forcing my gaze away from her and back to the ceiling. I stay lying on my back, the only vaguely comfortable position for me, and feel her watching me. The heat of her gaze doing all sorts of things to my insides.

“Cherry, this will not work,” I say after a moment of silence. It’s proving impossible to have her close like this but not touch her.

Her lower lip juts out. “Why? I’m on my side of the bed. I won’t move. It’s like I’m not even here.”

“That’s the problem.”

Frowning now, she shakes her head. “What is?”

“You’re too far away,” I admit with a groan.

I watch her muddle through my words, a blush travelling over her cheeks as she scoots her small body over to mine.

“Closer,” I order .

A smile blooms on her face as she moves all the way over, tucking her body right up next to mine. She feels like heaven pressed up next to me, and with a contented sigh, I put my arm around her back and pull her closer still.

“Better,” I say as she melts into me.

She huffs out a small laugh and grins up at me. Nuzzling her face into my side, she rests her hand softly on my chest before placing her head on my shoulder.

“Is this okay?” she whispers.

She has no idea how okay this is. How many nights I’ve wanted her here in this exact position.

“It’s more than okay.”

A yawn escapes me, my eyelids fluttering closed. Cherry snuggles deeper into my body and presses a gentle kiss against my chest, lighting my skin and my heart on fire.

“Goodnight, Nicky,” she murmurs into the darkness. I squeeze her to me as my body relaxes, and I fall into the deepest, most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve ever had.

· · · · ·

“This is the life,” Cherry sighs from her sun lounger next to me.

She’s just emerged from a swim in my infinity pool, water streaming from her body and hair like she’s a mermaid.

Today she’s wearing a small white bikini that rivals her pyjamas for the skimpiest award, and I’ve been shifting in my chair near her, keeping my hands, my eyes and my thoughts to myself.

It’s been four days since the accident and I’m feeling well enough to be up and about.

My bruises are now a yellowish colour that Cherry swears is a good thing, and now the pain is dull rather than a breath-stealing burn.

I’m sleeping better at night as well, though not as well as I’d slept that first night with Cherry next to me, but I’ve yet to find a way to ask her back in my bed without giving away how much I feel for her.

How much I need her. And how much I’m done denying it.

If there’s one thing the accident did for me, it was to give me clarity.

I’m no longer willing to live my life without this woman in it. If she’ll have me…

“I love it here,” she says now, lying on her front and resting her head on her crossed arms, her eyes closed against the mid-morning sun. “I get how it is hard to leave this place for so many weeks in the year.”