Page 88 of Everything She Wanted

“Let’s go.”

We make our way through the lobby and up to our room on the twentieth floor. Nick pushes the door open, and the room is stunning with a mid-century modern feel. There’s a funky white couch in the centre, with bright orange lamps resting on minimalist side tables. Behind the large TV in the centre of the room is a mirror. I take in our reflection, and I can’t help but like how we look together, except that we aren’t together, and we never will be. I look away and focus on the carpet that has an abstract design, and then the simple white curtains. A perfect combination that makes the room warm and inviting even at this hour. There are two bedrooms, one on either side of the sitting room.

Separate rooms. I can do this. I exhale.

“Are you hungry? We could order room service,” he says.

“I’m good. I think all I need is a shower and a bed.”

“Me too,” he says, and there’s a moment where we just look at each other. “Okay, sleep well.”

He heads in one direction and I go in the other.

I close the bedroom door and lean against it, fighting the urge to join him in his room.

I lock myself in the bathroom to shower, acutely aware as I’m undressing that he’s just a few feet away, and that makes me flush all over.

Get it together.

I shower quickly and jump into my PJs: a lacy tank top and matching silk pajama shorts. Rachel said I needed to stop wearing old, ripped T-shirts to bed as that was bad energy, but now I feel too exposed and wish I had packed one. It’s not like Nick is going to barge in here, although I’m not sure if I’d mind if he did... Stop, Nisha!

I lie in bed. My body is so tired, but my mind is wide awake. I replay the events of the past few days in my head. Questioning, doubting, and second-guessing everything.

I shouldn’t have lingered at the bar on Friday. I could have avoided everything with Matt.

I should have told Nick I didn’t need his help and avoided almost getting busted by Tom.

I should have apologized more profusely to Eshaan, especially with our engagement ceremony only a month away. I can’t stand it when he’s upset with me, and this time he’s thoroughly pissed.

Then my thoughts drift to tomorrow and the pitch. Nick and I practiced our presentation in the car, but I’m nervous. There is still a chance we could lose, and my promotion depends on this. I’ve been so focused on all the drama in my life that I’m losing sight of what I want—to be successful and finally show everyone that I’m not wasting my time on my career. I’m making something of myself, instead of just being a fuck-up.

I toss and turn for what feels like forever, and then finally look at the clock. It’s almost midnight. I remember the balcony, and suddenly, the need for fresh air overwhelms me.

I throw on a robe just in case and quietly open my door. The sitting room is dark, and Nick’s door is closed.

Good.

I tiptoe to the balcony and find the curtain pushed back and the sliding door already open. I look outside to see Nick lounging on a loveseat. His body splayed out. One arm behind his head and one leg hanging over the side. His eyes are closed, and he looks so breathtaking I can’t help but stare. I drink in the sight of his tight white tee hugging his slim, muscular body and his black lounge pants accentuating his strong thighs. I never get to check him out in this much detail, and I’m not going to miss this chance.

“Come join me,” he says, sensing my presence.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were out here.”

His mouth rises into a smirk as if he knows I’m ravaging him with my eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“Me neither.”

I come outside and move to the railing to take in the view of the city lights, buildings, and ocean around us. It’s stunning. I love imagining people in their homes and what their lives are like. Kids tucked soundly into bed surrounded by their stuffies. Couples binge-watching Netflix together. Artists working on their creations late into the night, driven by something beyond comprehension. Late-night workers hustling to take care of the city and their families.

“Seattle is beautiful, isn’t it?” I whisper to him as he comes and stands next to me.

“It is.” He’s looking at me and not the view.

If this is an act, then I want to be a part of the whole damn play.

I unconsciously start rubbing my neck, not even realizing I’m doing it until Nick looks at me with concern. “Is your neck hurting?”