Maybe Merritt was attracted to him, but of course she didn’t want to date him. She was beautiful, brilliant, and accomplished. He was a handyman with two roommates who accidentally locked his keys in his car at least once a month.
He waited to see if she was going to say more, but they just stood there staring at each other, close enough to touch, energy fizzing between them. Niko wished he could pry open that steel-trap mind of hers and pull out all of her doubts and reservations about him, about herself—everything she was struggling to express. Whatever they were, he knew they would seem less insurmountable in the light.
But if he’d learned anything in their time together, it was that he couldn’t force her to open up to him.
Niko drew himself up straighter. “If you’re not comfortable with me working on the house anymore, I can—”
Merritt shook her head before the full sentence was out of his mouth, which was a relief, because he wasn’t sure how he was planning on finishing it. On top of the financial blow that would come from backing out now, he’d become invested in this project, this house—and not just because it was for her.
“No. No, of course I am. A deal’s a deal. And your work is—I don’t want anyone else in here. You’re the only one I trust.” Her face flushed red again, and a strange spark of hope sputtered in his chest. Still, he knew better than to give it any air.
“I appreciate it,” he said, his voice rough around the edges. He turned to his worktable. “I should probably get back to it, then.”
Merritt nodded wordlessly, her eyes flicking over him, so full of unspoken emotion that his throat tightened in response. When she reached the doorway, she turned back to look at him one more time, hovering before disappearing.
Once he heard the front door shut behind her, Niko slumped against the table, bracing himself on his palms.
He wasdefinitelytaking the rest of the day off.
14
After leaving Niko, Merritt knewshe couldn’t go straight home. She couldn’t face Dev and Olivia right now. She couldn’t face anyone. Instead, she abandoned her car in the driveway, her feet carrying her up the gravel road snaking its way toward the top of the mountain.
It was another in an endless streak of crisp, perfect days, and soon enough she was shrugging out of her jean jacket, sweat beading on her brow. She wasn’t sure how long it took—ten minutes? Twenty?—but eventually, her racing thoughts began to slow, matching the steady plod of her steps.
By the time she reached the first overlook, she was crying silently, hot, fat tears sliding down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away.
It wasn’t the highest spot on the mountain, but it had an incredible view of the town. From here, it was easy to see how small it really was—the quaint main street, the irregular sprawlof houses dotting the landscape beyond, trees outnumbering the buildings a hundredfold, filling the air with sweetness and spice.
She eased onto a flat stretch of rock, tilting her face to be warmed by the sun, a gentle breeze lifting her hair. She sat there for a long time, longer than it had taken her to walk there in the first place.
She knew she’d done the right thing. Even though it was hard, even though it hurt. She tried to tell herself she should be proud of her growth, that the person she was ten or even five years ago would have never been responsible enough to refuse an inappropriate and clearly doomed fling.
But when she closed her eyes, all she could see was Niko.
She was able to sit with discomfort now, thank god. To let her emotions wash over her without knocking her down. Hopefully, this would be the worst of it. Once their feelings faded, maybe they could even become friends again.
She clung to that unlikely possibility as she headed back down the mountain, her head clear, her tears dry.
Still, she dreaded seeing him at the meeting that night, enough that she considered skipping it. That felt like it would undermine all her back-patting about her progress, though, so that evening, she walked the few blocks to Daniela’s house, her head held high, bracing herself.
What she encountered, though, was worse: he wasn’t there.
She sat through the meeting in a daze, absorbing nothing. When Pam nudged her as they were wrapping things up, she was so startled she literally jumped.
“Sorry, honey,” Pam said with a laugh. “A few of us were talking about organizing a baby shower for Olivia, and we wanted to know if you already had something in the works.”
“Oh,” said Merritt, guilt twisting her stomach. “Um, yes.Yes, of course. I haven’t really started planning it yet, but once everything with SummerFest wraps up, definitely.”
Pam beamed at her. “Well, let me know if there’s anything we can do to help.”
Merritt wanted to melt into her seat. She’d been acting so fucking selfish lately, letting her infatuation with Niko overtake everything else.
Before she let herself fall into a full self-loathing spiral, though, she was able to grab herself by the scruff of the neck just in time, legs dangling over the proverbial edge. Yes, she hadn’t been prioritizing Olivia as much as she should’ve, but she didn’t need to beat herself up about it. This was her chance to course correct.
This same impulse led her to offer to stay after and help Daniela clean up. It wasn’t totally selfless, though—Daniela’s house was a maximalist dream, a mixture of high- and low-end, old and new, a fascinating story behind every object, which she was more than happy to share.
They eventually wound up in the kitchen, Daniela with a glass of wine, Merritt with ginger tea, Merritt listening with rapt attention as Daniela finally told her the real story of her late husband.
