Page 145 of The Storm

I drag myself to the bathroom nonetheless, strip, and step under the shower. I rest my forehead against the wall and let hot water beat down on my back.

Eventually, I climb out, wrap a towel around my hips, and make my way to my room. I only turn on the narrow LED lighting strip that lines the upper edge of the empty shelf. I dropthe towel and I’m opening the underwear drawer of my dresser when somebody clears their throat. I whirl around.

There’s somebody sitting on my bed. Without thinking about it too much, I grab a book from the top of the dresser and lob it toward whoever is on my bed.

“Fucking ow!”

I blink and hit the light switch.

Nick squints and raises his hand to shield his eyes from the bright light.

I slump against the dresser, my heart beating way too quickly.

“What the fuck, Nicholas?” I ask. “Why are you in my bedroom? Are you trying to add breaking and entering to your résumé or something?”

He rubs his temple where I hit him with the book. “I was waiting for you.”

“To give me a heart attack? What a great prank.” I glare at him. “How did you get in here?”

“I have a key.” He sounds distracted and doesn’t meet my gaze. Instead, his eyes move up and down me before they land on my face. “Did you forget something?”

I look down at my body. It takes me a few seconds to realize I’m buck-ass naked.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. I grab a pair of shorts and hold them up in front of myself while I glare at Nick. “Turn around.”

He raises his brows, and the corners of his lips start to twitch. He’s having fun with this. Great. Really fucking great.

“Why?” He blinks innocently. “There’s nothing I haven’t seen there.”

My whole body goes hot. “What are you doing?” My voice is a rasp. Barely that.

I see his throat move as he swallows before he looks away.

“We need to talk.”

“And it couldn’t have waited until any other time?” I ask.

“No.”

Still glaring at him, I yank the shorts up then cross my arms over my chest. “What?”

His eyes trail up and down me before he sighs and pats the bed next to him.

“I’m good.”

The last thing I need is to be that close to him. Even being in the same room feels like too much.Heis too much. I never properly let myself think about what it would feel like to see him again. Sure, there have been moments late at night when I’ve imagined accidentally running into him. But in those daydreams I always had my shit together. I was always calm and collected. I had a life and accomplishments, and I would not gloat because I was obviously dignified and classy, but he’d get it, nevertheless. There would be the silent,look what you gave up. Look what you’re missing.

I never imagined that being near him would be so overwhelming.

“I want to apologize,” he says.

I did not expect that. I was preparing for a fight, so this has now officially taken the wind out of my sails. My shoulders slump, and I lean against the closed door.

We look at each other, neither of us saying anything.

Eventually I push myself off the door and go sit down on the bed, leaving a careful few inches between us. He’s silent for a long time before he turns his head and looks at me.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I guess… I don’t know how this works now. I know how we used to be, but that doesn’t fit anymore with how we are now.”