Page 46 of The Restoration Program

The weight on her torso eased. She drew in a breath so deep, her lungs ached. Relief came after.

“Oh fuck, Nicki, I’m—” Ryan stopped short, eyes brimming with panicked concern as he looked her up and down. His hands pulled away, leaving her alone on the floor as he backed up. “I’m so sorry! Are you hurt? Did I break something?”

“Relax, I stopped you before it got bad.” The state of panic she’d been in might have disagreed, but she was grateful her voice didn’t crack. She sat up and beckoned him. “Come back here. Please.”

Slowly, he eased forward again. His cheek was piping hot as she laid her hand upon it. She rewarded his patience, leaning into him with her affections. As she peppered his jaw with kisses, his wired nerves seemed to melt away beneath her touch.

“I’m just so lucky,” he murmured, “that I can touch you at all without scaring you.”

“Well, first you’d have to actually bescaryin order to do that,” she joked weakly. He was kind enough not to call her out on her bullshit.

Chuckling, he placed a gentle hand on her back. She moved to his lips. Kissing him on the mouth had lost none of its strangeness, but she could get used to it. She couldn’t deny, though, that she ached to neatly lock her lips onto his. The way they were meant to be. At this size, her only option was to radiate as much passion as she could muster just to be noticed. He barely needed to twitch his lips to envelope the lower half of her face.

But as they kissed, a low moan built in his throat She grinned into him, relieved to still have a presence. Strange or not, she could turn him on. She greedily leaned into the loving fingertips rubbing at her naked sides.

“Hey,” she said, resting her forehead against his bottom lip. She swallowed the tightness in her throat. “I… I don’t think I can spend another day alone here.”

He didn’t answer. Not at first. The fingertips teasing her sides wrapped fully around her middle. His hands cupped carefully around her as he rolled onto his back and lowered her onto his chest. The weight of his hands settled over her—heavy but not uncomfortable.

Nicole relaxed on her side, her cheek to toned muscle as she listened to thethud-thud-thudof his heart hammering beneath.

“Let’s go to Paris,” he said, lazily petting her hair. “Well get the first flight out of here tomorrow.”

Nicole smirked. “What, right now?”

“Yeah.” There was a crooked grin in his voice. “Or China. You always wanted to see the Great Wall.”

“Why not both? And they better be first-class seats.”

His chuckle shook her entire body. “First class,” Ryan agreed. “The whole nine yards. We’ll even hire some stuffy old guy to drive us around like Batman’s butler. How about that?”

She laughed. “Sounds perfect.” Unable to hold him properly, her hands balled up against his chest. “I… I just don’t want to be away from you, Ry. I know we’re working so hard to act like nothing’s changed, but… I do feel different. More fragile.” Admitting it felt pathetic, but the words were freeing in their certainty.

“I get it, babe,” he said, sobering. “It’s eating me up too. I feel like a fuck-up, leaving you here by yourself.”

“You’re not a fuck-up. But…”

“But?”

“I have an idea.”

DAY THIRTY-SIX

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

It was the fourth time Ryan was asking, and Nicole’s positive responses were less emphatic each time. She couldn’t even produce a verbal “yes” this round. She nodded, but even that felt like a lie.

Last night, she had been so eager, so certain of herself as she fell asleep curled into Ryan’s warmth. So convinced that she could brave prying eyes and gaping stares if it meant she wouldn’t have to mope around the apartment all day with only Ryan’s return to look forward to.

But now, sitting in the Callahan & Associates parking lot, she felt like a bumbling bank robber trying to plan their first heist.

“The worst Mr. Callahan can say is no, right? He can’t fire you for trying to be a good boyfriend.” Nicole peered through the passenger window, grateful that Ryan had parked a good distance from the glass doors. The last thread of her composure might snap if one of the employees trickling inside spotted her before she was prepared.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Ryan said. “Okay, maybe a little. But not as much as I’m worried aboutyou. I want us to be realistic—like we talked about.”

“I know. NoPartners with Printscrap here. No one’s waiting inside to make me feel comfortable to the point where I’muncomfortable.” Nicole paused, assessing herself. “Y’know, I think the support group has actually helped. I’m choosing to spend the day around giants like you, and I don’t feel like running away screaming. That’s progress.”

Ryan grimaced. “Wish you wouldn’t call me that.”