The toy shuts off.
It takes a few minutes to catch my breath. When I finally look back at Nick, I feel even more exposed.
How did he get me forget myself like that?
How did he get me to risk so much for him?
I look around the room, certain everyone knows what we're doing. But no one is looking our away. No one is the wiser.
We spend the soup and dinner courses talking about TV. Nick only watches mysteries, mostly police procedurals, and only when he can't sleep.
It should be a safe conversation topic, but I keep imagining him alone on a couch in some big empty room, no sound except the low roar of the TV. It must be so lonely living like that.
Dessert is a rich chocolate torte. I'm too wound up to keep eating. We'll be at his place soon. We'll be on to the next part.
Nick licks a crumb off his lip. "I want to take a car home."
I swallow hard. He's watching me, focused on me the way he focuses on his computer.
"Why?" I ask. "We can walk."
"Of course. But I can make better use of the time in the backseat of a limo."
My hand shakes. A limo is the worst of all. No seat belts. Nothing to protect you if it crashes.
He takes the last sip of his coffee then slides the remnants of dessert to the side. "Do you know how to drive?"
"No, and I don't want to learn."
The shaking in my hands spreads to my shoulders. I squeeze my thighs together to keep my legs calm.
I can't learn to drive. It's bad enough suffering in the backseat of a cab.
My heartbeat picks up. My mouth gets dry. I reach for the coffee to wet my throat, but I can barely swallow.
The waitress drops off a sleek black check holder. In one swift movement, Nick pulls his credit card from his wallet and hands it to her. No need to look at the bill. Money doesn't mean anything to him.
It's not enough to distract me from the dread in my gut. I'm still terrified to get in a car.
He sees through me.
I hate that he sees through me.
His voice is a dare. "If you're afraid—"
I stammer some incomprehensible collection of sounds.
"Admitting fear isn't a sign of weakness."
I press my lips together. "Have you ever admitted fear to anyone?"
"I was terrified that night in San Francisco."
"Of what?"
"Losing something important to me."
I take another sip of my coffee, but my mouth is still way too dry. "That's not the same. It's not like you're afraid of bees or spiders or something everyone else is sure won't hurt you."
His voice softens. "I understand if you aren't ready—"
"Stop making it sound like I'm failing to meet some challenge. I don't need to know how to drive. I don't ever need to get in a car again."
"What if you want to go to the airport?"
"I can take the bus."
"If you want to visit a friend who lives upstate?"
"I can take the train."
"And if she lives twenty miles from the nearest train station?"
"I can ride a bike."
"Your knuckles are white."
I pull my hands into my lap. The waitress interrupts our stare-off. Nick nods a polite "good night" and signs the check.
His attention stays on me, even as his gaze focuses on the paper.
"I'm afraid of losing this project," Nick says.
"Everyone worries about losing their jobs. Their work."
"Not like this. It would be like losing a limb. When I think about it, I stop breathing." He slides his wallet into his slacks as he stands.
Nick offers his hand. I don't take it.
This isn't casual. I rush towards the exit. The tables here are spread out, but it's still hard to move fast. I run into a server with a blonde ponytail and mummer an "excuse me."
Ow. The impact shoots pain up and down my spine. It settles in my mid-back. My muscles tense.
Too much work, too many nights out in heels. I take a deep breath but it doesn't relax my muscles. It's a minor ache. Ibuprofen should send it packing.
I can deal with it when I get home. Even if the tension is getting worse by the second.
My gait steadies as I get closer to the elevator.
Fuck. It hurts. Everything from the back of my neck to the bottom of my shoulder blades is tense and achy.
Nick slides his arms around me.
He holds me against his chest. "Are you okay?"
"Not here."
He takes me into his arms, carrying me like I'm some kind of damsel in distress, and sets me down on a bench at the end of an empty hallway.
I turn away from him, curling my body inward.
He slides my coat off my arms. His fingers trail over my spine. "Where does it hurt?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't have to take a car, but don't lie to me. Where does it hurt?"
"A little lower."
He rubs my back with a gentle touch. When the tension eases, I let out a heavy sigh.
His movements soften. "I know you're strong. You don't have to convince me. I want to know if you aren't okay."
"I panic whenever I'm in a car." I lean into his touch. "I try to keep it to myself, so I won't ruin anyone's good time. It doesn't come up often in the city."
"I understand." He presses his lips against my neck. "I'll walk you home."
"Are you coming in?" My voice is needy.
"No."
"Please. I want to... I want to fuck you. My back is okay. I swear." I turn back to him and stare into his eyes. "I won't lie about that."
He runs his fingertips over my cheek. "It's a fifteen-minute walk to my apartment."
I practically jump to my feet. Ouch. Too fast. I remind myself to slow down as I stretch.
Nick helps me into my coat. He slides his hand to my lower back and guides me to the elevator then to the street.
Our walk is quiet. His hand stays pressed against my back, soft and hard at once.
We stop at a huge apartment building right across from Battery Park.
I shift out of my coat as we walk into the lobby. "You live here? The rent must be a crime."
"It is. I'm making a fortune."
"What?"
"I own the building."
I bite my tongue, attempting to work out the math in my head. Thirty floors plus twenty apartments a floor equals a shit-ton of rent money. Of course money means nothing to him.
He's swimming in it.
"Lizzy." Nick runs his fingertips over my collarbones. "Are you all right?"
I nod as I follow him into the elevator. It's all glass. There are four elevators in the building, and each one is glass.
The reflective surface mocks my inability to hold a poker face.
How can I be nervous about something I want so badly? I'm not a virgin. I've even been with Nick before.
Everything is different now.
He's my boss.
My friend even.
He likes me.
Nick turns to me, his expression intense. "How is your back?"
"Fine."
"Then unzip your dress."
I swallow hard, my gaze going to the glass doors. "Someone will see."
"I'm not going to ask again."
I recognize that look. It's a test. And I'm pretty sure I won't like the consequences of failing.
Chapter Ten
He wants me to get naked in a glass elevator? Someone will see. Even at this time of night, it's a risk.
His eyes are on fire. There's something about his expression that commands me. My body moves of its own accord. My hands go to my zipper.
I hesitate. Can I really do this?
"I'm not going to ask again."
He's staring back at me.
My nipples tighten, my body answering for me.
I have to do this. I have to give myself to him.
I pull the zipper as low as it will go.
Nick pushes the dress off my left shoulder. My breast spills out, on display to anyone in a passing elevator, anyone in the hallway next to the elevator bank.
My sex clenches.
He does the same with the right shoulder. There's nothing covering me above the waist.
I'm exposed.
To him.
To anyone who happens to see.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine. I go to push my dress to my feet but Nick stops me.
"You don't get a say in when you take off your dress." His eyes are on fire. "Not when we're doing this."