Falling for Nicole: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Angel Book 8) Page 16

  “Did you have a good weekend?” he asks when he puts Lilly down.

  “Yes, it was amazing. You?”

  “Exhausting. Does your dog ever stop?”

  “Every now and then,” I say with a laugh.

  “Do you want to stay for lunch, Nic?”

  “Nah, I’ll get off and leave you to it.”

  “Okay, but if you need me, call me. I’ll go kick his arse the second you tell me to.”

  “That won’t be necessary but thanks.”

  “He didn’t do it, you know,” Lucas suddenly chips in, making our heads snap over to him. “What? He came round for a beer.”

  Lilly’s mouth opens but no words come out for a few seconds as she processes what her husband just said. “Dec came here for a beer?”

  “Yeah. Is that so weird?”

  “It’s never happened before.”

  “He obviously needed advice from a woman expert.” Lilly scoffs at his suggestion before he turns his attention to me. “Seriously, though, you need to talk to him.”

  “He’s my boss. I’m going to have to talk to him at some point, unless I jack in my job.” I say it as a joke but I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind more than once this weekend. If I didn’t need the money, I probably would have already handed in my notice if it meant I wouldn’t have to see his cheating face again.

  “Just talk to him,” Lilly adds, trying once again to fight for her brother.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

  I don’t remember the drive home; I’m too lost in my own thoughts, but somehow I end up inside my house and leaning back against the front door as Bailey sniffs around, re-familiarising himself with home. Other than sleeping, it’s the first time I’ve really been alone since everything went to shit with Dec, and my thoughts completely consume me. I fall down on to the floor as options run through my head. Mentioning jacking my job in has brought the thought to the forefront of my mind, but I can’t help thinking that’s a little dramatic. Just because he can’t keep it in his pants, it doesn’t mean I should be forced to leave a job that I love. Ugh, fucking Declan fucking Morrison. I’m sure his sole purpose is to torture me.

  The rational part of me knows I should get in my car and go find him so we can talk, but my fear is getting the better of me. More than anything else right now, I’m afraid that I’ll forgive him and fall even harder for him, only for history to repeat itself and ending up even more hurt than I am right now.

  Giving in to my need for him, I dig around in my bag for my phone and press my finger down on the button to turn it on.

  It takes a few seconds but the screen is soon full of messages and voicemail alerts from Dec. My heart races as I look down at his name and wonder what he might have said, what his excuses are.

  Curiosity soon gets the better of me and I swipe to open them.

  There’s a huge chain full of words like, I haven’t done anything, you’ve got it wrong and let me explain. The voicemails are more of the same, but listening to his voice affects me more than I was anticipating. The desperation I can hear makes my heart yearn to hear him out and forgive him. But it’s his final message that really cuts me open. He sent it after he must have left the hotel the other night.

  I really thought this was going to be something, but if you can’t trust me then I see that I was wrong. Very wrong. It was fun while it lasted.

  A sob erupts as I re-read it for the thousandth time. Have I got it wrong? Is what he’s saying true? Should I have given him the benefit of the doubt, listened to him before jumping to conclusions? But Georgia was so convincing, I tell myself once again. But she’s a bitch and wants what you have—had.

  Fuck. I’m so confused.

  Declan

  I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry as when I walked away from the hotel that night. Not only did she not have the decency to hear me out, but she made me look like a twat in front of my family. There was no need to tell everyone I was a cheating bastard. I was there fighting for her; wasn’t that proof enough that I hadn’t done anything wrong?

  None of what Mum could have said to me would have calmed me down as she ushered me from the room. “Just give her some time,” she said, “she’ll calm down and you can talk.” Bullshit. I’d done nothing wrong; why should I give her fucking time?

  By the time Monday morning rolls around and BJ and Liam turn up for work after gallivanting all weekend, clearly still drunk, I’m on the verge of losing my shit.

  “What the fuck?” I shout as they come stumbling into the shop an hour late. Thankfully the weather is still shit and we haven’t got any lessons booked in, but that’s not the point.

  “Still reliving the weekend, dude. You should have come. Those Essex girls, man,” he says, making a gesture about the size of their tits that on a normal day I’d probably appreciate. But not today. Today, I want to hurt something, or someone.

  “Which one of you two is fucking Georgia?”

  Liam immediately puts his hands up in defeat. “Wouldn’t touch her with someone else’s, you know that.”

  I turn my stare on BJ. “What? I thought you were done with her now you’re banging red.”

  “I am done with her,” I seethe, “but when she puts herself into the middle of my relationship with Nicole—”

  “Ohhh…relationship,” BJ sings, and I launch myself at him. He’s too buzzed to see it coming, and I have him up against the wall of the shop before he knows what’s going on. “What the fuck?” His eyes are wide with surprise.

  “Get rid of her.”

  “You said she was fair play.”

  “She was, until she started making out she was at the house fucking me.”

  BJ’s mouth drops open, and I can almost hear him thinking. “That’s why she was so up for it,” he mutters to himself.

  It’s no secret that BJ has followed Georgia around for years like a lost puppy. She’s let him have a few tastes, but she never allowed him everything—until last week, apparently.

  “That fucking bitch.”

  I let go and take a step back from him now he seems to understand my issue. Hopefully now he’s experienced her true colours, he’ll leave her the fuck alone.

  “Shit, man. I’m so sorry. Is everything okay with Nicole?” He suddenly sounds sober. I guess being threatened by your best friend helps to clear the haze.

  “Does it look like everything is fucking okay with Nicole?” Liam asks, speaking up.

  “I’ll talk to her, tell her the truth. Is she next door?”

  “Don’t go anywhere near her. You’ve already done enough damage.”

  “It’ll be fine. I’ll tell her Georgia was with me.”

  “She’ll just think I’ve sent you to make me look innocent. She’s not having any of it.”

  “What if I’ve got evidence?” Both Liam and I look up at him. “I’ve got photographic evidence,” he announces as he pulls his phone from his pocket. “Wanna see?’

  “No,” we both answer at the same time. When I promised Nicole I wouldn’t see Georgia again, I meant it; that goes for indecent photographs as well.

  “So what are you going to do?” Liam asks, looking concerned. He seems to have a better understanding of what’s between me and Nicole, unlike BJ, whose only concern is whose pussy he can fill next.

  “Fuck knows, mate. Fuck knows.”

  The second she walks in front of the shop windows, I feel like I’ve been slapped around the face. She may only be wearing her Dec’s t-shirt and a denim skirt, but fuck me, she’s beautiful. I completely zone out from whatever BJ and Liam are talking about as memories of what that body feels like beneath my hands run through my head. My thoughts don’t stop my anger, though.

  “I’m out of here,” I announce, grabbing a board on my way out.

  “It’s pissing it down,” Liam calls from behind me, but I don’t give a fuck. I need to get out of my own fucking head, and surfing is a sure fire way to make that happen, even if it is
in the rain.

  It doesn’t help. For the first time ever, I don’t find my solace riding waves. I’m just as frustrated when I return the board hours later and find BJ and Liam exactly where I left them, manning the fort.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, but in reality I don’t give a flying fuck. The weather’s shit, and there’s hardly anyone about. I may as well just shut up shop and send them home.

  “Yeah. It’s pretty busy next door. You might need to go help.”

  “Why can’t you two go?”

  “I can’t serve myself food, let alone other people.”

  I’m aware of all this, but I’m also aware of the reason they’re probably trying to send me next door. They think I need to try to talk to her again. What the fuck do they know? Neither of them have had a relationship that gives them the expertise on what to do here.

  “They’ll cope. I’m going home to shower.”

  Ignoring their responses, I turn on my heel and march out of the shop. I don’t want to look. I tell myself to keep my eyes on the ground, but the second I’m in front of the shack’s windows, they’ve got a mind of their own.

  It’s like she knows I’m there, because the second I see her, she looks directly at me. Her eyes are dark, the normal sparkle gone, and she looks tired, too tired.

  My chin drops open as if I’m going to say something, but it’s pointless. I don’t want to talk to her; she made her opinion about this whole situation very clear the other night. She thinks I’m a cheat, so why should I give her the time of day?

  But seeing her clearly suffering pushes all that to the back of my mind, because suddenly all I want to do is walk up to her and pull her body to mine.

  Letting out a long, pained breath, I drag my eyes away from her and continue the way I was going. I desperately want to look back to see if my actions hurt her, but I manage to keep my focus forward this time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nicole

  I feel like I’m doing okay, but I’m well aware that’s because he isn’t here. I knew he was in the shop when I first arrived, and I expected him to come straight in to see me. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest as I put my stuff in the office and waited for him to show his face. I should have been relieved when after ten minutes he didn’t show up, but my traitorous heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

  My lack of enthusiasm was evident because the others were soon asking if everything was okay. Thankfully, I could blame a weekend long hen party for my exhaustion. The lads seemed to fall for it, but I could see a questioning look in Freya’s eyes as I gave my excuse. Some weird womanly instinct meant she knew my sad face had nothing to do with a busy weekend.

  Considering it’s raining, we’re weirdly busy, which is good. I was worried the English weather was going to effect business. We’re only a few weeks in, but so far the shack seems to be doing well. The lunchtime rush has just died down when two familiar faces appear at the bar. I inwardly groan to myself but turn and smile politely like there’s nothing wrong, first at Liam and then BJ.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “Oh nothing, we’re good. But can I have a word?” BJ asks, the concern in his eyes like nothing I’ve seen from him before. He’s usually a total fun-loving joker. I’m not sure I like the serious look on him.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Not out here. It’s stopped raining, shall we go for a walk?”

  I look around to see how many customers we have in the hope I can use them as an excuse, but the place is almost empty now.

  “Yeah okay,” I agree with almost no enthusiasm. “Freya, you going to be okay for a bit?”

  “Of course. Take your time.”

  I make myself a coffee before following BJ out, clutching it in my hands as if it’s a lifeline. I’ve no idea what BJ might be about to tell me, but my stomach is in knots nonetheless.

  “Here,” he says, and nods towards a dry patch on the wall. We sit and look out to the grey, angry sea. It pretty much represents my mood right now.

  “I’m not sure I should be doing this,” he whispers after a long stretch of silence. “He told me not to.”

  “Go on,” I encourage, more intrigued by what he has to say than I probably should be.

  “Declan didn’t sleep with Georgia, Nic…I did.”

  “You did?” I ask sceptically. Of course he’d try to pull that card, he’s Dec’s best friend.

  “Yes. I’d been chasing her for a while and I think she only caved so she could hurt you two. I’m suddenly seeing a different side to her that I’m not so keen on.”

  The fact that what he’s telling me could be true has my heart picking up speed. My palms start sweating as I begin to wonder if I’m the one in the wrong here—if I should have trusted Dec. Shit.

  “This is all a little convenient don’t you think?” I ask, trying desperately to prove I’m right.

  “I guess. But,” he pauses and grabs his phone, “look—”

  “ARGH, that is not necessary,” I say, pushing the screen away from me as I desperately try to rid the image from my mind.

  “I think it was. Declan’s not a bad person, and he cares about you. He’ll kick my arse when he finds out I’ve done this, but I can’t stick seeing him the way he is now. You need to talk to him.”

  I drop my head and squeeze my eyes tight as I think about that morning and everything Dec has said since. He practically pleaded with me in front of everyone on Friday night that he was innocent, and I bluntly told him where to go. “Fuck. He’ll never forgive me for not trusting him,” I admit.

  I feel the heat of BJ’s hand as he wraps it around mine and squeezes gently. “Yes he will. You guys have so much history that he’ll understand your reluctance to believe him.”

  “You know about all that?”

  “Yeah, he’s talked about you for years. I knew who you were the second you walked in our front door. Don’t ever tell him I told you this, but he’s got it bad for you, girl.”

  A giant lump forms in my throat and stops me from responding. I just nod my head to show I’ve heard.

  “And if you don’t mind me saying, I think the feeling’s pretty mutual, right?” I nod once again, my eyes beginning to fill with tears. “So you’ll talk to him?”

  “Yeah,” I whisper.

  “And you won’t tell him about any of this?”

  “Of course not, you’d hate it if I told him about that photo and how he has a much bigger cock than you.” I burst out laughing. I can’t help myself, the look on BJ’s face is too funny.

  “Fuck off,” he grunts. “And to think I was trying to help that wanker out.”

  “Thank you, Ben,” I say, once I’ve contained myself. “I guess I’ve got some grovelling to do.”

  “Just don’t make it too easy on him,” he says as he helps pull me up and begins walking me back to work. “I’ve already taken care of Georgia. She won’t be bothering you again.”

  I would have hoped I’d feel a little lighter knowing the truth, but the knowledge that I’m the one in the wrong here weighs me down even more than when I thought Dec was cheating. I spend all afternoon beating myself up about the fact I didn’t believe him, that I didn’t even give him a chance to explain.

  By the time the end of the night starts to roll around, I’m in a foul mood. We had a couple of shitty kids come in who kicked off when we refused to serve them, and I managed to drop an entire pitcher of margaritas down myself. All in all, it’s been a bit of a crap day, and I can’t wait to get into bed. All I really want to do is think about how to deal with the Dec situation, but locking and cashing up takes priority right now.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” I shout when I walk into the office and find Dec sitting at his desk. My heart thunders in my chest as I take some slow breaths to try to calm it down. “You could have warned me you were in here.”

  “Why? You wouldn’t have believed me.”

  My eyebrows draw together as I stare
at him, the cash tray in my hands. “Dec, please, we need—”

  “Too late, Ginge. I’ve given you the opportunity to talk and you threw it back in my face. Just do your job and fuck off.”

  I stand stock still as I stare at him in disbelief. I really only have myself to blame for the dickhead Dec I remember all too well from my childhood to reappear.

  “Okay,” I whisper, trying not to allow emotion to crack my voice.

  My hands tremble as I sort out the cash, and I drop more than I manage to bag up.

  “Are you fucking capable of doing that without chucking it around, or do I need to do it for you?” he barks.

  “You know what?” I shout back, spurred on by his attitude. “You fucking do it. I’m going home.”

  I feel a tiny amount of victory when I look up and see the expression on his face. He wasn’t expecting that.

  I grab my bag and umbrella and I’m almost out the door when he calls my name.

  “What?”

  “Text me when you get home.”

  “What? Why?”

  He shrugs. “I just want to know you’re safe.”

  Now it’s my turn to be gobsmacked. “I didn’t think you cared.” I know it’s the wrong thing to say because he’s proved quite well that he does care, but I’m angry and my mouth seems to get the better of me.

  “Of course I care,” he says, standing from his desk and looking me dead in the eyes. “I care too fucking much. But look where that’s got me,” he adds quietly. “Now fuck off, before I say something I’ll regret.”

  Although I’m desperate to know what it is he might say, I do as I’m told and walk out of the office without looking back.

  The walk home is short, but my umbrella doesn’t do a lot to keep me dry, especially at the slow pace I’m going. I can’t shift the nagging feeling that there was something final about what just happened in his office, like that was him telling me he was done and we’re going back to how it used to be. I’m on the cusp of turning around and running back to him the whole walk home.