Imperfections (22 page)

"Nick! You came! How did you get here?"

I walk up to her ignoring the two lowlifes sitting at the table who look like
The Sopranos
rejects. She throws her hands up in the air and smiles, her hair tumbles over her shoulders and falls down her back.

"I'm so glad you were able to make it, did I wake you? I hope I didn't. I missed you."

I stand between her legs and put my hand on her cheek. "I missed you too, are you okay?"

"I feel wonderful. I've never felt this free in my entire life. I'm as light as a feather."

"I can see." I stroke her cheek with my thumb while she smiles up at me. "How many drinks did you have?"

"I'm not sure, I dun know. Ava and I… Ava and I were doing taqwilla bots. Bots, did I say bots or shots?"

I shake my head at her and try to keep her focused. "How many bots did you do?"

"I dun know?" She looks at Ava who's now slumped over in a chair next to one of the slicked back-haired rejects. "Ava!"

"Yessssss," Ava says trying to sit up straight.

"How many taqwillas did we have?"

"Many, many, many." She wipes the back of her hand over her forehead and looks over not expecting to see me. "Nick, when did you get here?"

She's lucky I don't strangle her and leave her ass right here in this godforsaken club. "Get your ass up and get your shit together, we're leaving."

"Why? We were having so much fun. Ooh look, Cat knows how to work the pole now. I taught her that, hot, right?"

"Yeah, I saw, let's go."

"We can't leave without Matt," she whines.

"Oh yeah, where the hell is good old Matt?" If I didn't have to deal with these two…

Cat puts her head on my shoulder. I feel her warm breath on my neck. She's drunk and still turning me on. She always makes me feel things I shouldn't be at the wrong time.

"He went to do business," Cat says, the tip of her nose brushing against my neck.

"Did he? And left you two out here alone in this condition?"

"He didn't leave us alone. These two hentlemens here were looking after us until he gets back."

"I bet they were. Gentlemen, when the guy who was with these two gets back would you be so kind as to tell him golden boy was here. He took what was his home and when I see him I'm going to beat his ass like the bitch he is. Thanks."

The beefier one out of the two sleazy-looking rejects with a crooked smile says, "Sure we can do that, no problem." His eyes roam over Ava and Cat leisurely. "It was sure nice spending time with you ladies."

I'm sure it was. I stand Cat up, hand her her shoes and ask her if she can walk by herself because Ava is tore up. I help her stand up and she leans on me. I tell Cat to walk in front and not to put those heels back on, under different circumstances I would tell her to leave them on. I pull up to Ava's building and help her out. "Make sure you lock the door behind you and call me when you get into your apartment."

"Why don't you walk me to the door like a gentleman?" She wobbles on her bare-feet.

"Because Thelma here might decide to drive my car off a cliff."

Cat sticks her head out the window resting her chin on her arm. "Ooh I love that movie, what does that make you? Brad Pitt? I love Brad Pitt, he is sexy, he never ages; he's like a bottle of fine wine, only gets better with age."

"I'm sure he does," I say dryly. "Sit back and try not to throw up in my car if a sudden wave of nausea hits you." I watch Ava go in and wait for her to call me. After ten long minutes I call her. She picks up and says her bad, she forgot. Ah Ava.

I take Cat back to my place and put her down on my bed. I try to help her take off her coat but she swats my hand away. I stand back and watch her do it herself. After the third try she throws it to the floor in triumph with a smile plastered on her face.

"See, I did it."

"I see, it took you three tries but you did it."

She sits up and looks at my phone next to her when the light alerting me to a call flashes. "Who's Donna?" The light stops flashing and she looks my way, the smile on her face gone. It flashes again and she picks it up holding up the screen for me to see. "She must want to talk to you real badly. I wonder what she could possibly want at this time."

"She's a friend."

"What kind of friend calls at three in the morning, Nick?"

"An old friend." The phone flashes again and I wish Donna would give it up and stop calling.

"Donna sure is persistent. You want me to answer it for you? I can do that." She holds her finger over the screen.

"No." I snatch the phone out of her hands and put it in my pocket out of her reach, stepping back a good distance away from her.

"I don't have old friends that call me in the middle of the night. Maybe I should get some friends like that."

"No, you shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"I'm going to call Donna first thing tomorrow and let her know I won't be accepting any more late night calls. I won't have friends like that anymore."

"Why's that?" she asks with the edge of my mattress curled tight in her hands.

"Because I don't need them and I don't want them."

"Since when?"

"Since the night the most beautiful girl with sensually full pouty lips, warm almond-shaped brown eyes, with a body to be worshiped and adored with my lips and eyes opened the door and walked back into my life. She should be dripping with priceless diamonds, rubies, and jewels of every kind but the most priceless of them all would be my love wrapped around her like fine china, handled with infinite care."

The grip she has on my mattress loosens, she blinks, opening her mouth then closing it back again. "She is so rare and special she deserves nothing less."

We're silent. I take in every line, curve, and angle of her face. I want to pull her up against my chest and kiss her but I'm afraid she'll push me away. She's staring back at me, studying my face the same as I'm studying her. Closing her eyes she balls her hands into fists at the edge of my bed. I can see the steady rise and fall of her chest with each breath she takes. She speaks to me without opening her eyes, like there's something she doesn't want me to see. As if she's reading my mind, she says the two words I want to hear.

"Kiss me."

Without thought or question my feet move across the room to close the distance between us. My hand reaches for her and gently lifts her up pressing her soft full breasts against my chest.

Pulling her bottom lip into my mouth, I gently suck until a moan escapes her mouth. She parts her lips, I suck on the center swirling my tongue around that one soft supple spot, before her tongue snakes out to circle mine and they slide against each other back and forth with our mouths open, crushed together in a hot haze of heat, breathing hard and fast.

We both can't get enough as I suck the sweetness from her mouth. Needing to touch more of her my hands go under her skirt cupping her ass and lifting her up against me, her legs parted. She follows me, frantically grabbing a fistful of my shirt in her hands. She suddenly breaks the kiss covering her mouth and I try to catch my breath. Seeing her face I pause. I know what's coming next and it's not going to be good for her.

I suddenly feel sick. A wave of nausea comes over me, pulling away, I slap my hand over my mouth. I don't even have to ask. He already knows.

"Straight down to your right."

I make it just in time, and it's awful. I feel like my stomach is being yanked out of my body.

I pull my head out of the toilet to see Nick sitting beside me on the floor. I didn't even see him come in. He looks at me, giving me a small smile, and brushes my hair back from my face.

"I know what you're thinking, but don't worry, you're going to survive."

"God, I hope you're right because it doesn't feel that way." Soon as the words leave my mouth, a cold sweat breaks out across my forehead, and I wretch up whatever else is left in my stomach. How embarrassing! My head stuck in a toilet bowl, vomiting all over his immaculately clean bathroom. How embarrassing is this moment in my life? And he's holding my hair back without making a face as if he's not totally grossed out. I pull my head out of the toilet, fold my hands on top of it, and rest my forehead against them, taking shallow breaths.

"You don't have to sit here, I'm a mess, a hot mess."

"Yes, I do, and you're not a hot mess."

"Yes, I am."

"Yes, you are. I was trying to make you feel better."

I laugh and turn to face him. I'm met by those darn eyes of his. He looks even better now than he did ten minutes ago. He's like every girl's fantasy and he says he wants me. Why?

"Why are you sitting here holding my hair?"

"Who else is going to take care of you?"

"You could be with any number of women, like Donna, instead of sitting here, babysitting me on the floor, watching me barf."

"There is no one else I want to be with, no place else I'd rather be than here with you."

"This is every guy's dream, to be sitting on the bathroom floor, holding back a girl's hair while her head is in his toilet bowl. You'll never look at this toilet the same again."

"I'm sure I won't. It was christened by a beautiful girl who most guys would kill to have throw up on them."

I roll my eyes at him. I shouldn't have done that, my eyes are throbbing in my head. I moan, and he places his hand on my back and gently rubs. I swallow and try my best not to throw up again.

"You feeling a little better?"

"No, but I don't think I'm going to throw up again."

"Come on, let's clean you up."

"No, just leave me here on the cold, hard floor. I deserve this; this is what I get for being a total slut!" He runs his hand up the back of my neck to get my attention.

"Look at me. I don't want you talking shit about my girl, especially when it's not true. I'm against violence of any kind against women. Unless it's done to give them pleasure but if you keep talking like this, I might have to rethink that." He ends his last sentence with a smile.

"I'm not your girl, you have another girl. I'm fucking things up for you and everyone else."

"Trust me when I say you're not fucking anything up. It was already fucked-up. I'm the one to blame for that, not you."

He takes my hands and slowly helps me up. A wave of nausea hits me, and I lean against him. I feel awful, but I'm still aware of his body and the heat. He feels warm and solid. God, I need that.

Holding me steady after I rinse my mouth out he says, "Let me help you; you need to take these off."

He reaches for the hem of my shirt. When my stomach is exposed, I instantly freeze and push his hands away.

"You need to take a bath, but I'll leave, if you want me to."

He puts his hand down, I sway a little and he holds me steady again. I have to make a decision, stay in my filth or let him help me. I know I can't do it by myself standing up. My head feels like it's about to explode. "Help me, please, but don't look."

"How am I going to do that?"

"Close your eyes, and feel your way through it."

He smirks, looking down at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It would be my pleasure to feel you up."

I look up into his beautiful smug eyes and narrow my eyes at him. "If I had the strength, I would slap you." I close my eyes when another wave of nausea hits me. He takes my hands and places them on his shoulders.

He's so close, he whispers in my ear, "Hold on tight, Cat."

It's not a choice, if I don't, I'm going to fall flat on my face.

Feeling his hand on my thighs, I breathe in and lean my head against his rock-hard chest. He runs his hands up the sides of my thighs to my waist. His fingertips graze my sensitive skin as he fists the hem of my shirt in his hands. His skin doesn't leave mine for a second when he opens his hands and presses his palms flat against my skin. He slides them up the middle of my back, carrying my shirt up, while his fingertips make swirling motions against my skin.

He whispers in my ear, "Raise your arms for me."

I do as he asks. I feel his hands slide up the back of my neck as he pulls my shirt up over my head, over my arms, and drops it to the floor. His hands feel good on me, warm and soothing against my skin. I don't want his hands to leave me, and they never do. He trails them back down the same path until he reaches the small of my back, I sigh with my eyes shut. He stops and pulls me in so close that I'm pressed fully against him. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean my head against his chest, listening to the strong steady beat of his heart.

When he slides the tips of his fingers between my skin and my underwear I catch my breath and hold on tight. The palms of his hands glide over my ass, in one smooth motion, my panties and my skirt slide down my legs and drop to the floor. His hands are on the back of my thighs, I feel the heat of my wetness against my inner thigh. His hands move back up my ass to the small of my back and spans my waist. He holds me close for a minute and then effortlessly picks me up.

He sits on the side of the tub with me on his lap, I never open my eyes…I trust him. This is the Nick who has looked out for me since I was a little girl, who took me to the movies, who teased me when I had my first date, and who threatened to kick the guy's ass if he laid one finger on me. This is the Nick I dream about, the one who would always take care of me, the way he's taking care of me now. It feels good to imagine I could have this all the time, and he could be mine always.