Masquerade

29

~Willow~

Ava has come and gone several times over the last couple of days, as have Aiden and both my parents, but Nick has remained my constant. And while I should feel guilty about that, should force him to leave, I don't and can't. It feels good having him here, and I'm beginning to feel a bit selfish about it.

After what he'd done for me that night--how awkward it should have felt but wasn't--I've come to the conclusion that I don't mind being greedy where he is concerned. I like the way he treats me, as if how I feel and what I need truly matters, even if all I need from him is a smile or his warm conversation.

I lay with my eyes closed, my thoughts interwoven with memories that are much more pleasant now than they used to be. All of them, in some form, revolve around last night and Nick: how he'd offered me the towel, then turned away--but not before I'd seen the crimson creeping up his neck; how he'd carried me back to my room, though I'd sworn I felt better; how he'd retrieved a t-shirt and shorts for me, even though I could see how uncomfortable he was digging through my dresser.

I laugh softly at that, remembering all too clearly the day he'd come over to help me settle in, the box he'd opened then quickly closed again.

For two nights I've shared my bed with him, and though that should have made me feel awkward too, it hadn't. With Nick, I never feel anything but good, and for the past two days and nights he hasn't taken that feeling any further from me than the next room. In that time we've talked about a lot of things but have actively avoided the one topic that seemingly puts a bad taste in both our mouths. We don't talk about what happened at the Gala, though we have discussed at length what looms in my future because of it.

Not for the first time, I wish like hell I could have chosen Nick. I let out a frustrated sigh and shake my head before I finally open my eyes. If I don't say anything else about that night to him, I want to say something about that. I feel he has the right to know, deserves to hear that from me.

My joints complain only a little as I sit up in my bed, then swing my legs over its side. Today I think I feel good enough to join the rest of the world again. Hopefully it will be a nice surprise when I join Nick in my kitchen, where he is currently occupied with making breakfast for us. Again.

I frown at that thought. I love having him here, but I don't love putting off everything I should be doing myself on him. It just doesn't sit well with me, no matter how he's tried to convince me otherwise.

I cross my room slowly, testing my limits to see what I can and can't do. Walk? Can. Walk fast? Can't. I nod my head, satisfied to have at least one of the two. It's a welcome improvement. I slip out of my room quietly, then stand for a long moment and watch the man who's bustling about my kitchen.

A soft smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as he moves around, already familiar in my home. I like it, probably far more than I should. When he finally turns and sees me, the bright smile he shoots my way makes my heart stutter in my chest. Damn, he has an amazing smile.

"Well, if it isn't the bell of the ball, coming to grace me with her presence." His good mood is infectious.

I laugh softly and shake my head, then cross the room slowly as I reply. "Could you be any cornier?"

"Probably. That what you want this morning?"

"No. Well, maybe." I pull out a stool at the counter, then ease myself onto it. I can feel his eyes on me, but I'm determined to do for myself today. I know he'd drop everything to help me if I asked, but I won't. Not today.

When I finally settle myself against the backrest, I lift my gaze to his. There is relief in his smile and maybe the hint of pride in his eyes, though I don't really understand why.  I look away, my face growing warm. But that warmth is chilled by the sight of the daisies further down from me. Their heads are held high above the smiling mug that holds them, and I frown at them in return. I had forgotten all about them.