I asked Mr. Wallingford if he needed any help with Conner, but he said he could handle it, and thanked me for offering. Conner was moving under his own steam by that time, for the most part, but when his knees buckled, I was out of the driver’s seat and at his side in seconds. Lifting Conner easily, I asked his father where he wanted me to take him.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly, clearly overwhelmed. “Let me show you.”
Once Conner was settled, cleaned up and in bed, his parents insisted we spend the night, but Nick was adamant that we needed to head home, so half an hour later, after lavish thanks and more hugging than I was comfortable with, Nick and I were outside, heading to the car.
“I’m really proud of you,” I told him, turning to speak to him over my shoulder. “And I hope you don’t take that as me being patronizing, but you were a hero for both of your––”
“Wait.”
Stopping, I pivoted to face him and was surprised that he was right there in front of me.
“I don’t want you to qualify what you––” He took a breath. “Can you just…stop?”
“I did. You can see I’m not moving.”
“No, that’s not—you’ve been walking on eggshells with me.”
I was quiet.
“Please, Loc, just, I want us to be honest.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “It’s not eggshells, it’s more like a minefield.”
“Yeah, I know,” he conceded, his voice rough and husky, like something was hurting. “But I don’t want it to be like that anymore.”
“Good, me neither,” I said, turning to walk to the car.
“Loc.”
I stopped again, and he came around in front of me.
“I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean—I have problems when I’m not in control, and it’s not—any power over me is just…”
“Just what?”
“Listen, I saw early on in this that you were trying to help me, not control me, but it’s been so hard to separate things in my mind from things that’ve happened in the past.”
“What things?”
He shook his head. “I can’t, not right now.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“But I won’t be an asshole anymore. Not after last night and then this.”
It hit me then that he hadn’t been the only one fighting. Yes, he’d been a spoiled brat and an ass, but I wasn’t perfect, and I’d provoked him as well. It wasn’t fair not to give him his out. And it would suck, because we’d just gotten to a new, good place, and someone else would reap the reward of Nick Madison in thoughtful, self-reflective mode, but it was the right thing to do.
“You know,” I began resolutely, “maybe it would be better if we got somebody else from Torus for you.”
“What?” He choked on the word, sounding angry. “Why?”
I shrugged. “You’ve been a dick, but I’m not all Zen either, so maybe––”
“No,” he rasped, deflating, taking my hand in his. “Absolutely not.”
“You need to think about this,” I directed him. “It might be good to have a do-over, to start fresh with––”
“It won’t,” he assured me. “I wouldn’t be comfortable.”
“You might,” I said, thinking of Cooper. “One of my buddies is really––”
“Do you want to leave? Is that why you’re saying this?”
“This isn’t about what I want, it’s about what you need.”
“I need you, Locryn,” he murmured, lacing our fingers together, staring at our hands, before his eyes were back on mine.
“Listen, Nick, I’m not sure I’m even helping you anymore. It seems more like I antagonize you, and it’s not productive.”
“I’ll be better,” he promised adamantly, and I could hear the stress in his voice. He was frightened, and I was the cause. I was scaring him, and that wasn’t helping. “I promise I can be so much better.”
“No, you’re not hearing me,” I said, squeezing his hand as I held his gaze. “I’ve been a prick to you, and if you knew me better, you’d know it’s the default setting of my sparkling personality.”
He chuckled, and everything in him sort of settled as he nodded, grinning at me.
“I’m being serious,” I insisted. “You don’t understand. I have, like, zero patience, and it’s been said…” I smirked, because the guys at the office never let me forget it. “That I can be a bit of a grumpy bastard.”
“Are you kidding?” he scoffed, laughing. “You’ve been a fuckin’ saint.”
I shook my head. “You’re so deluded you don’t even know what––”
“Everyone says, all the time, ‘Jesus, Nick, you’re such a fuckin’ asshole to that guy, and he just keeps taking it.’”
“No, Nick, listen, you need––”
“I didn’t want to go.”
I went silent, staring at him.
He took a deep breath. “I wanted to stay home. I didn’t want to go to the stupid fundraiser and…I want to run.”
“Sorry?”
“I mean with you. In the mornings,” he told me, staring pointedly. “I want to run.”
“Okay,” I agreed hesitantly, unsure about what was going on in his head.