Page 34

Chapter 34

Annie

JANUARY | Balance: $47,376

I was at work, poring over yet another iteration of the same contract for Hudson Romelski. I wasn’t even sure they’d changed a single word of it this time, but just changed the file name and sent it back to me. I wanted them to shorten the term for how long Romelski would have to exclusively drink this amino acid energy drink in public. Who only drinks one thing for six months?

I took off my glasses and rubbed my forehead to ward off the headache that built behind my brows. My phone chimed with a text. I normally wouldn’t let myself get distracted, but my eyes were about to cross from reading the same lines over and over. The message I got was an instant jolt of dopamine.

Nick and I hadn’t seen each other in person since I got back from Christmas, just having a sexy phone call to catch up while he was on the road that week. A phone call that ended in him reading to me again, continuing to shred my poor tender heart.

My heart that needed to mind its business.

Things had gotten a little too serious over the holidays. He called me at midnight on New Year’s to tell me he wanted to kiss me. And why wouldn’t he? I’d acted like a wife for our Christmas celebration. He’d paid all my travel expenses so I could go home and see my family. All of that without knowing the reason why I couldn’t afford to go home in the first place. He wasn’t in my business, but he saw a need, and he fulfilled it. And it didn’t read in an “I buy her stuff to keep her happy” kind of way. It was more like “I see her and what she needs, and I want to help.”

I hadn’t felt seen like that since my law school girlfriend. And even she had ulterior motives. She saw me and used the things she saw to manipulate me. Not a great person, in the end. But I wasn’t sure Nick had a manipulative bone in his body.

We were still playing like we were friends with benefits, but the way I was starting to feel about him scared me. They say, “Don’t do wife work when you’re just a girlfriend,” and I wasn’t even a girlfriend. I was his agent and friend with benefits. And yet, I wanted to do things for him. I wanted to make him feel cared for and valued.

So when his message came through that evening, I couldn’t stop my heart from fluttering, a giddy warmth spreading through me.

Nick Oberbeck

I’m still lacking in volleyball skills, and someone once promised I would be taught

Funny, that was only if you taught someone to skate.

Last I checked, that person still can’t skate

What if I try again? Different skate?

(raised eyebrow emoji)

Venice Beach, Saturday at 3:30? We don’t know many people over there and it’s mostly tourists

That’s during the day tho

Things are finally starting to go well at work

I hear you angel

I just want to hang before we do the stuff

I get it magic man

And I think I might be ready for a really big step

THE big step?

Yep. Pack a bag.

Should I bring a parka or a bathing suit?

Parka, bathing suit, snorkel, power drill

(wide-eyed emoji)

Kidding. Just you, that smile and those freckles

Alright, pick me up at 3:30 and we can hang

on the way over

Can’t wait. See you then angel

I really had missed him. I’d hung out with Kitty and Jessie a lot and been busy with work, but their attention wasn’t the same friend attention as what Nick gave. And I’m not just talking in the orgasm sense. Nick had this way of making me feel like I was number one, always.

A dangerous feeling.

Part of me worried that during our time apart, he’d met someone. It was inevitable, a condition of our arrangement. I was preparing him for the right person, should the right person for him be a woman. In some ways, it would be a relief. I wouldn’t have to worry about work finding out if we ended things.

Then would come the question of what kind of partner I was actually looking for.

But as every little bit of contact with him lit up my whole world, I knew the answer to that question.

It wasn’t an answer I was allowed to have.

* * *

Nick arrived at my door in a hoodie and a beanie, plus some Vans.

“You look very Venice,” I said, a volleyball tucked under my arm.

“You look very not ready for what we’re about to do,” he said, pointing to my tall-heeled boots. “Get on some flat sneakers.”

“I’m going to take them off to play volleyball,” I protested. They worked so well with my outfit. I wanted to be cute for our date.

“It’s not for the volleyball.”

“Are you threatened by my height in these?” I teased, my eyes just slightly lower than his in my heels. I gestured him inside and closed the door.

“Absolutely not, angel. I love how tall you are.”

“I do kinda like that I can wear heels with you and I’m not taller than you,” I said, winding up for a rant. “Which is a whole patriarchy thing anyway, but I’ve spent my whole life being ‘too tall for a woman’ while every other female in my life not on a volleyball team is little and petite. I was always the big one in my relationships with women. They wore ‘little’ like it was a personality trait. But it would be unseemly for me to be ‘big’ as a personality trait.”

Nick’s hands met my waist as I got to my coat closet. He turned me to face him, his eyes blazing into mine. “Hey. You are not too tall. You are perfect. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar.”

I smirked. “Tell society that, Ober.”

“Give me society’s number. I’ll call them right now,” he joked before laying a light kiss on me. My lashes fluttered closed, and I both loved and hated how girly he made me feel. He could change everything with one little phrase. One touch.

“I like how you make me feel little,” I whispered, afraid to admit it because it sounded silly. But Nick got me.

“You are little to me,” he grinned, his breath warm against my face before he gave me another peck. “Little and tall and strong and perfect.”

I breathed him in, enjoying his masculine scent that was sporty and his skin and somehow, the sweet, humble confidence he displayed all in one. If there were one expression to capture how I felt being around him, it’d be pouty lips and drawn brows because he was so wonderful, it was upsetting.

I extracted myself from under him and reached into the closet, grabbing two different shoes and letting him pick which would be better for our activity.

“Those boots were hot, but you’re hot in sneakers too.”

“Are we allowed to tell each other we’re hot outside the bedroom?”

“You’re hot everywhere, Annie. May as well say it. Come on. Where’s your overnight bag? I’ll carry it. I got you a drink in the car.”

“Ooh!”

He opened the car door for me, which he had done before, but this was our first time on a proper date, no other pretense. An outing and we’d go eat after.

And hope to God we didn’t run into anyone we knew.

I looked in the cupholder and screeched. A large fast food cup with a brown liquid in it. “You didn’t. You said it’s frying my brain!”

“Well, it is, but you’re going to drink it whether or not I buy it for you. May as well make you happy.”

I picked up the cup, sloshing it in my hand. “Is that pebble ice? This is a rare treat. Thanks, bub.” I sucked down a big sip. Pure heaven.

Nick was turned to me in the driver’s seat, his eyes cast down as he blushed. “You’re welcome.”

He hesitated before turning the truck on, staring at the space between us and rolling his lips.

He wanted to kiss me, but he was being shy. So I made the move for him. Leaning closer across the center console, I gently grasped the side of his neck, tracing my thumb over his throat. Without saying a word, I locked eyes with him and guided our lips together. The kiss was sweet and soft, a delicate addition of tongue that made me want to kick my feet and squeal. We held our faces close as we parted, him nuzzling my nose.

“Diet Coke tastes good on you,” he cooed.

“Diet Coke always tastes good,” I said seriously, then giggled.

He rolled his eyes and sat back, turning on the car and buckling his seatbelt.

We laughed and talked on the way to Venice. He told me about some extended tape prank Mikey was pulling on Leroy. Apparently, they used to hate each other, but were starting to love each other in a fun, spiteful way. I caught him up on the lunch-stealing drama at my office and how I was trying to stay on the good side of the people who ordered my Diet Coke.

Nick parked among the shops in Venice.

“Do they even have an ice rink here? Where are we skating?” I asked.

Nick got a big grin. “You’ll see.”

He paid his parking meter and I waited for him to lead me where we were going. The backs of his fingers brushed mine and my stomach swooped. Like it was freaking high school. I was excited about a finger brush. A few steps later, it happened again. A look over at him showed him looking nervous, flexing his hand before tucking it in his pocket and sucking in a breath.

“What?” he said, finally looking at me.

“You want to hold hands?”

“Oh, uh, we don’t have to,” he said, playing it off. “We’re almost there.”

We walked into a skate and snowboard store and I started laughing. “You meant skateboard? I thought you meant ice skating somewhere or rollerblading.”

He grinned and shrugged. “It’s Venice. When in Rome.”

“Nick, good to see you again.” A salesguy came around the counter with a big smile. “We’ve got your order ready.”

“Ever longboarded, Annie?”

I laughed and shook my head. “No. I have a feeling I’m about to be battered and bruised.”

Nick’s hand met my lower back, a little dampness pushing through my shirt. Nick’s hands were sweaty on our date. The thought alone gave me a chill. “You know me. I won’t let you fall.”

“You absolutely will, you liar,” I said quietly as the guy came back with two fresh boards. Mine was a beautiful wood with a clear grit sprayed on it, letting a flower pattern shine through.

“I’m going to need a helmet,” I said.

“Two steps ahead of you, Markham.” He clipped a cute white helmet on me and knocked on the top of it. “Safety first.”

The guy from the shop walked us into the alley behind the store to show me the basics of pushing off and kick pushes. We figured out whether I was goofy or regular-footed. He ran alongside me when I was afraid to go too fast, holding my hands.

Nick stood by the back door with his arms crossed and scowling during that part.

We returned to the door and I had a basic concept of how to ride. We tightened the trucks since I was wobbly as hell, my ankles comically steering me all over the place.

I went out for another spin. “I feel free, Nick!” I shouted back at him.

That wiped the scowl off his face. We went back in to grab the rest of our stuff. Nick snapped some pictures with the shop’s staff and I had them take a picture on my phone of me and Nick.

“We don’t have any of just us,” I said.

“I realized that on Thanksgiving,” he said. “Ready to hit the bike trail?”

“Now? I’m ready?”

“You looked like a pro to me,” he said. “Let’s go, Markham.”

After dodging a few faster skaters, bikers, and rollerbladers on the path, we were off. The evening’s cool breeze felt amazing once I got going. Nick looked back at me.

“This more your kind of skating?” he called.

“Much more fun,” I said. For a few moments, everything was so peaceful. Wheels carried me, propelled by my own force. My hair blew behind me. There was a guy who wanted me to be free in front of me. It was bliss.

We made it a good mile down the path without incident. Then when I slowed to push again, I didn’t see the pebble waiting for me ahead.

Damn pebble.

With only one foot on my board, I went flying as my wheel hit the pebble, crashing down chin first on the pavement with my board sailing back behind me.

“Annie!”

Nick jumped off his board and ran to catch mine, rushing back to crouch at my side. “Oh no, angel. You’re bleeding.”

I sat up and scooted off the path, trembling from the adrenaline. The shock of the fall had tears spilling.

“Oh, baby, let me see,” he said, tipping my chin up. He cupped the back of my head and leaned me back so I wouldn’t have to stretch my chin. His concerned eyes flicked over the wound, a trail of blood running down the front of my neck. My knees, elbows, and one wrist throbbed. It stung like hell, but yet, I was laughing.

“Can we do it again?”

“Do it again? Annie, are you crazy? Your face is bleeding.”

With shaking hands, I unzipped my sweatshirt and Nick helped me out of it, examining my scrapes.

“I was free,” I said. “It was just me and you and the ocean and the wind and . . .” I laughed some more, turning maniacal. “I was free.”

He chuckled. “You’re one sick puppy. I think I just fully turned you into Rebel Annie. Come on, I’ve got a first aid kit in the truck.”

Like he had when I fell at the ice rink, he slid his arms under mine and hoisted me to my feet. When I stood, our eyes met. “Nick.”

I wanted to tell him. It felt just right, and by just right, I mean all wrong. But in all the best ways. That was our story: being all wrong by what we were “supposed” to do, but being just right in every other way.

I loved him. I knew it with every scraped skin cell and every freckle in his intriguing jade eyes and every ounce of the weight between us. I was in love with Nick Oberbeck.

Because Nick Oberbeck was the purest soul to walk this planet. He saw down to the core of my being, and I saw him. And I loved what I saw.

His hands gripped my upper arms. His smile was broad as he came in for a kiss that despite being gentle, ripped something loose inside me. “My wild Annabelle,” he rasped.

I was staring up at him like a fool, clinging to his every breath, every movement of his lips and his laugh lines and his eyes falling back to my chin. “Let’s go get you patched up, angel.”

He helped me hobble toward the truck, getting a good number of looks along the way due to the blood dripping down my neck. We ended up stopping at a lifeguard stand to get me taped up. I had to drop my pants for them to bandage my knees.

Nick got a picture of me, a wide grin splitting my face as two lifeguards tended to my injuries. His eyes danced as he watched me. “My little daredevil.”

I thought how much Kitty would laugh with me at that picture, but then got sad. I couldn’t send it to Kitty, because Kitty couldn’t know that part of my life.

As sure as I was that I loved Nick, I was just as sure that I couldn’t love him. I wasn’t allowed to.

I was quiet as we sat to dinner in a cozy brewpub on the beach, our longboards next to us at the table.

“Here, for your helmet hair,” Nick said, pulling another beanie out of his pocket and handing it to me.

That little gesture, to have thought ahead that I might hate how my hair would look, almost sent me into tears. Their incoming approach stung behind my nose. “Thanks, bub.”

“Coming down off the adrenaline?” Nick asked, noting my change in mood.

I gave a wry smile. “Maybe. I just . . . I wish we could be like this all the time. Everywhere.”

His brow knit. “Me too, angel.” I gnawed on my bottom lip, fighting the urge to cry. Why did I have to love him? Why did we have to be in the situation we were in? Why did I need him to be able to pay off my family’s debt?

His hand met the top of my bouncing leg under the table. Gentle yet firm, confident. “What if we make-believe tonight? We don’t know anyone around here.”

I laughed to ward off the tears. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

He moved his hand to the top of the table, opening it and wiggling his fingers to ask for my hand. “You don’t have to, but it’s here if you want it.”

It was such a knife in the gut that he was so considerate of my boundaries. I laced my fingers with his and let him brush his fingers over my knuckles. I lifted my wrist, another spot I’d gotten a scrape, but one we decided would be better without a bandage. He made a little pout and flipped my hand over, tracing his finger around the scrape.

“Poor baby. Look at that.”

“Gnarly road rash,” the server said, arriving at the table right then.

“It’s her first,” Nick said. “First day skating.”

“Aw, that’s incredible, bro! First round’s on us,” the server said. He held up his fist for me to bump, which I did. “Way to go full send on the first day.”

“Yeah, our Annie’s a badass,” Nick said, the sun setting over the Pacific and those fancy big hipster lightbulbs giving him a certain glow. We ordered beers and looked over the food menu when the server left us.

“Hi, um, sorry to bother you,” came a small voice. “But are you Nick Oberbeck?”

We turned to find a preteen girl and her dad standing behind her. “Yeah! What’s your name?”

The girl’s face went bright red. Her dad nudged her forward. “Go on, Annie.”

I smiled to encourage her. “Is it Annie? That’s a great name,” I winked. “My name, too.”

“Really?” The girl relaxed. “So yeah, I love hockey and I go to as many Princes games as I can.”

“That’s awesome. Thanks for the support,” Nick said. “Hey, give me your first and last name, Dad, and I’ll leave you seats for the next home game.”

Annie’s eyes got bigger. “Against Florida? That’s gonna be such a big game!”

Nick nodded. “That’s right. A real fan here.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to her dad. “Just put your name in here and I’ll make sure I leave you some seats. Annie, remind me if I forget.”

“You want a picture?” I asked.

“Um, yeah, okay.”

I took one of Nick and the girl, then them with her dad.

“You can get in there, Annie,” her dad said to me.

“Oh no, I’m just a nobody.”

“Actually, sir, can you take a picture of me and my Annie? We never get a chance to take pictures together.”

“Of course!”

“Nick, my face is all butchered,” I objected, sensing that maybe this wouldn’t be safe for us to be photographed together in a public place.

“We can remember your first skate. A before and after,” he said, squeezing my side. “And you’re beautiful, blood and scabs and all.”

We posed for Nick’s camera, and Annie lifted her phone to take our picture. He crouched down to talk to her.

“Actually, Annie, I prefer to keep my private life private. If you don’t mind, this is just for us,” Nick said.

“Oh, I’m so sorry—” the poor girl looked mortified.

“No, no, it’s fine. My Annie’s just for me, though. People can be mean on the internet, and I don’t want people saying mean things about my girl.”

“We understand,” her dad said. “We’ll let you two get back to your dinner.”

“Come down to the ice before the game next Saturday. I’ll throw you guys a puck.”

Nick still had his arm around me as they walked away. I turned into him and gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks for sticking up for my privacy.”

He kissed me again. “It’s our privacy. And we deserve it.”

The way he had my back. The way he got it. The way he didn’t minimize my concerns. The way he was on my team, no questions asked.

How could I not fall for him?

We enjoyed our beers, reliving my fabulous fall and my apparent rawness at the lifeguard stand.

“I’m proud of you, Annie. I know you hate taking risks like that, and you just did it.”

“I hate them until I don’t,” I said, scooping a nacho from our shared plate. “It’s like my tattoo. So much of my life, I’ve had to be buttoned up, tied down, not giving anything away, keeping it together. I got my tattoo when I was so frustrated with how heavy my life had become. I wanted to do something frivolous, something out of character for myself. I told no one. I just went, found a shop with an immediate opening, and got it done.”

I took a breath as I chewed, thinking how much of myself I wanted to share. No one really knew why I’d chosen my tattoo, except the artist. But I loved Nick even if I shouldn’t have, and I knew he’d hold it sacred like I did.

“There’s this mountain back home that you can get to from a park. It’s all cleared off on top because it’s the next mountain over from the airport. It’s got this meadow on top with all these beautiful wildflowers. When I was little, I liked to run up there under the planes, pretending that if I just ran a little faster, I could fly, too. Be free. So yeah, those are the wildflowers on my tattoo.”

I’d been looking at the table between us, and looked up to check Nick’s reaction. He took my hand on the table again, his eyes soft. “Annie, that’s beautiful.”

Tears clouded my eyes again. “You make me feel free like that, Nick.”

Nick swallowed, rolling his lips.

“You make me feel understood, and I’ve never had that before,” he said, tracing his finger over one of mine. We sat, feeling every beat of what pulsed between us.

He broke our gaze and hesitated, then went on. “I don’t think most people understand what it is to be where I am. Almost twenty-two, a professional athlete, pansexual, haven’t slept with a woman, but I’ve slept with a man. And then, I found you. And you just get it.”

“You found me,” I said softly, a chill going up my arms.

Nick nodded, then kept rolling, working through something in his head. “I think people have certain expectations of what a pan person is like, and I don’t know if I’m that or not. I just know that when I meet someone good, I can be attracted. Hell, sometimes I’m attracted when I meet someone not good.”

“I hope you don’t mean me,” I said with a nervous chuckle.

“No, I mean my whole college mess. He wasn’t a bad person, it was just . . . messy. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, whether he was ready to accept himself. His parents had certain expectations of him, and he was afraid to go outside of them. So no matter what we had, I’d never have him.”

“Kind of like us now,” I blurted, then wished I hadn’t.

“Kind of,” he said morosely.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Nick.”

He shook his head, the pain in his eyes devastating. “Make-believe, Annie. Let’s just have tonight.”

Right. Pretend.

I went back to the previous topic. “Do your parents know about you?”

“Yeah. My mom was fine. She’s all crunchy-granola-earth-mother. My dad took a while to come around. He still doesn’t fully understand it, but he loves me anyway. He’s still proud of me and wants me to be happy. Might be a different story if I didn’t have a successful career, though. If I were the theater nerd I wanted to be, who knows?”

“Sometimes not understanding but loving you anyway is the best you can ask for.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “What about your parents? Or, your dad, I guess?”

“I actually told my family before my mom passed. Felt like I needed to set the example for my siblings. I wanted them to know that it’s okay to be proud of who you are even if it’s different. Mom was happy, but she assumed I was in love with Kitty.”

Nick laughed. “My mom does the same thing with my friends. She lays eyes on a friend of mine and is like, ‘Is that one of them, Nicky?’ The one time I did go friends to lovers, I got burned, hard.”

I stared at the plate of nachos between us. “And then there are friends with benefits.”

Nick laughed. “Annabelle Markham, are you looking to get punished tonight or something? Stop bringing up the ugly stuff.”

“Sorry. You know it’s my need for constant certainty,” I whined.

“Uncertainty is freedom,” he said with a wink.

“No, certainty gives you the grounding to be able to be free.”

“Is that it? Because nothing is certain in life. You’ve gotta take the freedom where you can get it.”

Our food came, us picking off each other’s plates. Things were so easy between us, and I realized how comfortable I was with him. It was nice to have some time out together, even though all my wounds were throbbing.

We strolled out of the restaurant blissfully stuffed. Nick put his arm around me as we walked back to the bike path.

“Sorry I got you all banged up tonight, Annie.”

“I’m not even mad,” I said. “Don’t sweat it. Blame the pebble.”

“I actually picked up the evil pebble. Thought you might want a souvenir,” he laughed. “You wanna sit on the beach for a little bit?”

Although the sun had long since disappeared beyond the horizon, the idea of spending some peaceful moments with Nick sounded ideal. We located a dry spot and settled down, observing the moonlight dancing on the waves. He opened his legs slightly for me to sit between them, and I leaned back against him, his comforting presence enveloping me. His chest rose and fell with slow, even breaths against my back. He pressed kisses into my hair, my neck, my shoulders.

And we didn’t say anything. We didn’t need to.

I was free, and he was understood.