Date Next Door

“I’m sure she would be delighted.”

Talk of his mother had changed the mood between them. Joel didn’t comment when Nic scooted a couple inches farther away from him on the couch, setting her mug on a coaster on the end table as an excuse for the change of position. Just to keep things comfortable, she turned up the television a bit, focusing her attention on the screen.

Pretending to be checking for the remains of melted marshmallow, she ran her fingertips across her lips—lingering just for a moment at the spot Joel had touched.

After setting their cocoa mugs in the dishwasher and turning off the TV, Joel walked Nic up to the guest room for the night.

“You’re sure there’s nothing else you need tonight?”

She smiled up at him. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

“I’m right next door if you need anything.”

She glanced automatically in the direction he had indicated. His bedroom door looked awfully close to her own. “Not very far,” she murmured.

“No.” He looked from his door to hers, then gave her a weak smile. “Not far at all.”

“So…um…good night, Joel.”

“Good night, Nic.”

He didn’t immediately move away. He just stood there looking down at her. And suddenly her heart was beating so hard in her chest that she could hardly breathe. Feeling an uncharacteristic heat flood her cheeks, she took a quick step backward, swinging the door closed between them.

What, she asked herself, was that?

Joel threw his Cardinal-red polo shirt over the back of a chair and pushed his hand through his tousled hair. For some reason, he was restless tonight. Itchy.

Must be the reunion making him feel that way, he mused. The reminders of his younger self, the signs of aging in all his friends—signs he assumed they were also seeing in him. He supposed it was only natural to feel nostalgic for the more innocent and carefree days of his youth when he was around the people who had shared those times with him.

And yet…oddly enough, he wasn’t thinking of those old days now. He found his thoughts turning more to the life he had made for himself in Arkansas—his home, his patients, his friends. Especially the one friend now sleeping only a few steps down the hall.

Despite his vague feelings of guilt earlier for subjecting her to this ordeal, he was glad he had brought her. Having Nic with him had made the whole evening so much easier, giving him an excuse to avoid discussing Heather’s death with his former classmates, keeping him grounded in the present. Not to mention that he simply enjoyed being with Nic.

Remembering the enthusiasm with which she had cheered on his high school team, he couldn’t help but smile. Nic wasn’t exactly shy and retiring. She had impressed the heck out of the Watson twins with her knowledge of football. And she was hardly a high-maintenance companion. She didn’t expect him to constantly entertain her or cater to her needs. In fact, she was firmly insistent upon taking care of herself, not even letting him go to the concession stand for her snacks.

His smile faded a little when he recalled the way she had waded into that potential brawl in the stadium parking lot. When most other women—and most men, for that matter—would have stayed safely at a distance, doing nothing more to help than looking for the nearest officer, Nic had simply taken matters into her own hands. It hadn’t even seemed to occur to her that the angry teenagers almost all dwarfed her in size.

He still didn’t understand why his old friends seemed to think she was a little odd. Because she was a police officer? Female police officers might still be in the minority, but they were hardly a rarity these days.

Because she liked football? Again, hardly a big deal. He knew a lot of women who liked sports. His nurse was the biggest NASCAR fan he knew, quoting statistics and rankings that could make his head spin with confusion.

Because she hadn’t even hesitated about throwing herself into that fight? They should admire her for that. He was a bit chagrined that it had taken him so long to intervene himself. Had Nic not been there, one of those kids could have gotten hurt before anyone had had the presence of mind to break them up.

He kept coming back to the suspicion that it was simply that Nic was so different from Heather. And again he thought that was a really lame reason why he and Nic couldn’t be good friends—or even more, if they had chosen to pursue anything else.

Now he was all itchy again, thinking incongruously of Nic standing in the doorway of her bedroom, gazing up at him with what might have been an uncharacteristic hint of nerves in her big dark blue eyes. Had that been just a touch of a blush on her smooth, soft-looking cheeks? Had she, too, been struck by the intimacy of saying good-night in a quiet, darkened house in which they would both be sleeping tonight? Or was it all in his own imagination?

Maybe bringing Nic to his reunion hadn’t been such a good idea after all, he thought, throwing himself onto his old double bed. Their friendship meant entirely too much to him for him to take any chance at all on putting a new distance between them.

It was always awkward to wake up in a strange house, disheveled and disoriented. Pushing her tousled hair out of her face, Nic gathered her clothes and makeup bag and opened the bedroom door. The hallway was empty and the house was quiet, making her wonder if she was the only one awake at seven o’clock on this Saturday.

She had just reached the bathroom door when it opened. Wearing only a pair of jeans and rubbing a towel over his wet hair, Joel stepped out, almost walking straight into her. He stopped abruptly when he realized she was there. “Whoa. Sorry, I didn’t mean to run you down.”

“You didn’t,” she assured him, stepping quickly backward. “I didn’t know you were in there.”

“I’m done. It’s all yours now. Do you need anything?”

“I, um…” For some reason, her mind had suddenly gone blank. She couldn’t even remember exactly what he had asked. She had known that he was fit, of course, in a sturdy, solid-looking way—but who knew there were such serious muscles hidden beneath his conservative-young-professional clothing?