“Why does that not surprise me?” Simon deadpanned.
Jo raised their eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were still talking.”
“We aren’t,” Niko said. “Do you still have that backup portable phone charger thing?”
“Yeah,” said Simon. “It’s in the drawer next to the sink.” He and Jo exchanged yet another significant glance, but Niko couldn’t bring himself to care.
“You should probably take that, too,” Jo said, pointing to the six-pack of beer sitting on the counter, waiting to be loaded into the fridge.
“I’m just going to check on her. I’ll be back in an hour, tops,” Niko protested.
Still, he tucked the cans under his arm on the way out the door. Just in case.
17
It couldn’t have been morethan ten minutes between when Niko texted her and when he arrived at her door, but to Merritt, it felt like an eternity—especially because she spent every second of it vacillating on whether to tell him to forget it. But Olivia and Dev weren’t responding to her texts, and her phone was down to 2 percent, so all she could do was sit, paralyzed, in that dark house and wait for Niko to bring the light.
She heard a knock on the front door, then the creak of it opening.
“Merritt?”
The sound of his voice calling her name sent a thrill down to her toes.
“Hey,” she said, standing up and shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. “I’m in the living room.”
She saw the beam of the flashlight first, then the shadowy outline of Niko’s body behind it. He stopped when he saw her,pinning her to the spot with the light. She drew her oversized cardigan closer around her, hugging herself, resisting the irrational urge to put her hands up in surrender.
It had been three and a half weeks since that night at Last Chair, and yes, she’d been counting. Part of her felt like she’d summoned that text to her phone through sheer force of will.
“Thanks for coming,” she said around a lump in her throat.
“Not a problem.” He slid his bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. “Want me to build a fire?”
For the next few minutes, they worked silently in tandem, Merritt setting up candles and Niko lighting the fire. When he offered her a portable phone charger, she thought she might cry.
What had she done to deserve this? The care and attention of this man, which she’d done nothing but shut down and reject—except when she’d thrown herself at him at the most inappropriate possible time.
Her face burned at the memory like it was still fresh, even though she’d been replaying it almost daily. She wondered if he was also thinking about that—how she hadn’t been able to keep her hands off him the past three times she’d seen him. Maybe that was why the air between them felt so electric that she half expected to see lightning flashing inside, too.
They’d have to break that cycle tonight, though, because there was no way she was letting herIt Has Been Twenty-Four (24) Days Since You Last Kissed Nikocounter reset back to zero.
“So…” she said, casting a sideways glance at him as they stood in front of the fire. “How have you been?”
He looked straight ahead, the flames casting dancing shadows over his face. “Fine,” he said, after a long pause. “You?”
“Fine.”
Finally, he met her gaze and held it. It didn’t seem like he was going to say anything, though.
“How’s the house?” she asked.
“Good,” he said. “It’s coming along. I, um. I’ve been there a lot lately.”
Merritt’s stomach twisted. “When do you think it’ll be done?”
He shrugged, turning away again. “By the end of the summer, probably. Could be sooner, but these big jobs always drag on longer than you think. Especially since it’s just me.” He shifted his weight. “I’ll be done before I leave, though.”
“Where are you going?” Merritt racked her brain, but she couldn’t remember him mentioning any upcoming trips.
