Page 64 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
But I just don’t feel like accepting the blame for forcing my way into Nick’s life, so I let him take the blame. After all, I need to continue to hate him. It’s the only way I’ll get through living with someone I’m so attracted to with my resolve to gold dig intact.
At the same time, I’m smart enough to realize that I shouldn’t antagonize someone I’ll be living with. So, when he doesn’t respond to my affirmation of anger, I let it go.
Behind us, the guards’ car turns left while we turn right, but I don’t question it. I trust Nick—at least with my safety. So, I allow us to simmer in silence, because it’s easier that way. Given how hectic my life is, easy is a victory.
Pretty soon, we pull up to a warehouse in a lesser populated area of Hell’s Kitchen. Nick drops me and Jax’s body off at the alleyway entrance of the warehouse. Then, he goes to find parking without any issues. A few minutes later, he’s back and opening up the place for us.
The warehouse is set up like a decent-sized, expensive New York studio and doesn’t actually look like a warehouse inside. There are security cameras set up around the warehouse. Nick also has me configure my eye and palm for the subtly-placed scanners at the entrance.
The floorplan is open, with the custom closet, kitchen, bedroom and living room all in one room. It’s a bit of a tight fit, but it’s enough for two people and a captive, which Nick tells me is all the place needs to fit, since his guards will be covering another empty safe house to deflect attention from us.
And honestly, the place is really, really nice…
But that’s not the problem.
The problem is there’s only one bed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Speak when you are angry
and you will make the best
speech you will ever regret.
Ambrose Bierce
Even though Nick lets me take the bed while he takes the small couch, his presence still bothers me enough to affect my sleep. Tossing and turning all night, I barely sleep, and when I finally do, my eyes are only closed for a few hours before I’m waking up again, courtesy of a groaning Jax.
“Can you shut him the heck up?” I politely ask Nick, who’s laying on the couch, playing Angry Birds on his phone while Jax’s musical of groans is getting louder by the second.
I take one of the extra pillows on the bed and throw it at the couch. It bounces off Nick’s head and onto the floor. He grabs it and tucks it under his head, using it as a pillow, which makes me realize that last night, he slept without a blanket and a pillow.
Now, I feel even guiltier because Nick barely fits on the couch. His long legs hang over the edge, and the width of his strong body barely fits this narrow couch. In fact, there’s more of his body off of the couch than on it.
I remind myself that it doesn’t matter if he sleeps uncomfortably, because 1) I’m not supposed to like him, 2) I don’t like him and 3) I’ll never like him. But… I can’t help the twinge of guilt that envelops my body, so I endeavor not to argue too much with him this morning to make up for it.
“I tried. The man,” Nick says, emphasizing the word in a way that makes me suspect that he thinks the term is hardly appropriate, “can moan his way through anything.”
I sigh and get up. The clock on the wall reads twelve past six in the morning, which basically means that I have a long day ahead of me. And I don’t want to spend it listening to Jax complaining all day. So, I enter the kitchen, grab a nice-sized nectarine from the fruit bowl and walk over to Jax.
He eyes me warily and with good reason.
I lift the nectarine in front of his face and say in a tone I would use on a toddler, “This is to stay in your mouth until you can prove to me that you can be quiet. Okay?”
He shakes his head furiously, but I don’t care. Behind me, Nick lets out a sexy laugh that sends a series of chills up and down my spine. I ignore the feeling and continue on with my plan, shoving the nectarine into Jax’s reluctant mouth while being careful not to actually touch the guy.
I turn to Nick. “He smells.”
Nick gets up and grabs a bottle on the floor behind him. It’s Febreeze. I roll my eyes as I watch him spray it all over Jax, and now the disgusting stench smells like a disgusting stench mixed with Febreeze.
I walk towards the bathroom, and over my shoulder, I say, “I’m going to shower. You know, how normal people get clean.”
I close the door before I can hear Nick’s response. After stripping out of my clothes and throwing them into a hamper in the bathroom, I wait for the water to warm up before getting in the marble shower.
Not even five minutes later, I hear the door opening. Alarmed, I peak my head out of the curtain, only to find Nick with a toothbrush in hand. Facing the mirror, he’s not even looking at me and is acting as if being in the bathroom while I’m naked is no big deal.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
