Nick shook his head. “I can’t do it. I can’t face them knowing Brad’s death is on my hands.”
“You can,” I argued, knowing it wasn’t really a choice. Nick would never have closure unless he reconciled with his parents.
He rolled his eyes as if in agony. I couldn’t bear to see him in this pain and hugged him again. He wrapped his arms around me as if I was the only thing solid in a world that had spun out of control.
“Will you be here with me when they come?”
My breath caught.
“Yes, I need you, Em. I can’t do this alone. I told them about you and that you’d convinced me to see a counselor and how much you’d helped me.”
“Oh, Nick, I don’t know.”
“I can’t do it without you,” he argued.
“But Nick, they don’t know me…this is a private family matter.” I couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult this would be for Nick and his parents. I was a stranger, and while I was willing to help Nick, I wasn’t convinced my being with him while he talked to his parents was something I should do.
“You aren’t a stranger to me,” Nick argued. He leaned forward and braced his forehead against my crown. “Mom is anxious to meet you. She’s grateful I met you.”
I could feel myself weakening. “When will they arrive?”
“Next week.”
I exhaled. Nick’s first appointment with the counselor was on Tuesday. I’d agreed to go with him. Not to sit in on the session but to drive him and wait for him. I didn’t want a repeat of what had happened with our lunch date. “All right,” I agreed, not bothering to hide my reluctance. “I’ll meet your parents on two conditions.”
His look was skeptical, wary. “Which are?”
“One, you don’t cancel your appointment on Tuesday.” I held his eyes, unwilling to bend on either of my conditions.
He agreed readily. “What else?”
“That you talk to your parents privately before you bring me into the picture. I’ll be happy to meet them, but only after you’ve talked to them first.”
He didn’t look like he was willing to accept my second stipulation, but after a couple awkward moments he nodded. It took awhile for him to absorb what I’d said. He brushed his lips over the top of my head. “Thank you.”
Elvis settled down next to me and rested his chin on his paws. His dark eyes centered on me and Nick.
“A pot of tea will do us both good,” I suggested.
Nick released his hold on me and I rose from my knees, thinking there would be permanent indentations on my legs after kneeling so long. When I walked into the kitchen, I stood mesmerized for a moment by how well the brown walls highlighted the off-white kitchen cabinets and counters. It had turned out even better than I’d imagined.
Nick stepped behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. “It looks good, doesn’t it?”
At his touch, shivers of awareness skidded down my arms. When I spoke, my voice was barely recognizable. “It’s lovely.”
“Yes, it is,” Nick agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the color of the walls, he was looking at me. “Em,” he said, his voice deep and rich.
The timber of the way he said my name caused me to meet his look. His eyes were warm and sincere as he raised his hand to my face, cupping it. I sucked in my breath and stepped back. This couldn’t be happening. I felt the pull toward him, as strong as any magnet, but this was a path we couldn’t walk, a path that led to pain and heartache, and I’d traveled this rock-strewn corridor before and walked away bleeding and nearly destroyed. As tempting as it was to yield to his touch, as much as I yearned—yes, yearned—for the comfort of his arms, I couldn’t.
“I have to go,” I said abruptly. Needing to get away quickly, I turned with the intent of running out of the house. Before I took the first step, Nick grabbed hold of my hand and brought me into the circle of his arms.
“Don’t,” I pleaded. “Don’t do this.”
“Em,” he whispered, his face buried in my hair. “Listen, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’ve had a change of heart. I realize I can’t only be your friend. That isn’t working for me. I need more. I want more and I know you do, too.”
I so desperately wanted to believe there was a future for us,