No Bad Days (Fisher Brothers 1)

“Nick.”

“I gave the poker chip to you, Jess. It was for you. Why would you do that?”

My stomach clenched at how broke

n his voice sounded. “It didn’t seem right for me to keep it.”

“I wanted you to have it. I needed you to take a part of me with you when you left.”

He what? God, he was so confusing. This was so confusing. I didn’t know what to say in response to that, so I sat still, listening to him breathe into the line.

“Why are you so far away? Why did you leave? Fuck, Jess, why did you leave me?” His voice slurred, telling me he’d been drinking.

“Are you drunk?” I pretended to sound annoyed, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t annoyed or irritated at all.

This was Nick, my Nick. And even though he broke my heart when he told me he didn’t want to even try to be together, I couldn’t help the way I felt when it came to him. I still wanted him, and I was too surprised by his call to hate myself for it.

“A little,” he said. “God, why aren’t you here right now? I need you. I need you here.”

His words stopped my heart, and the sound of his voice silenced the thundering in my chest. I was certain he would always affect me this way.

“Listen to me, Jess—” He stopped for a second to yell at someone, and then spoke to me again. “Sorry. Listen to me. You don’t belong up there. You don’t belong where you’re at. You belong with me, and I’m coming to get you. Me and Dan are going to head up there tomorrow to pick you up, throw you over my shoulder, and bring you home. Do you hear me? I’m coming to get you and bring you home.”

Nerves surged through me as I struggled to not only think, but to breathe. Nick wanted to come get me? God, nothing sounded more appealing in this moment than him going all caveman on me, but I knew I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t leave here—this was my school now, and I couldn’t just leave in the middle of the semester.

“I can’t leave,” I said in a whisper.

“Yes, you can. Listen, Jess. For once, just listen.”

For once? I thought, then focused on what he was saying.

“I hate that you’re up there. I can’t fucking handle how far away you are from me. Do you understand that? Do you know how crazy I’m going every day without you? And besides, you don’t even like it up there. I know for a fact you don’t,” he said so convincingly, obviously believing what he was saying. “Rachel said you were miserable. She said you hate it up there. And it’s not where you belong, anyway. I’m coming to get you tomorrow, so start packing.”

My jaw fell open. Stunned, I felt torn in two. One side of me loved his utterly crazy, insane words, and wanted him to come up here and get me away from this place.

But the other side of me knew that what he was saying was impossible, unreasonable, and unrealistic. My parents would flip out, not to mention that the whole reason I had moved here in the first place was for my degree, and ultimately, my career. I was thriving at the TV station.

“Nick—”

“Don’t fight me on this.”

“You can’t come up here. I can’t go home with you.”

“Yes, I can. And yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“We can do this all night.”

“Don’t come up here. I’m begging you. Stay home.” What am I saying?

“I’m coming. I miss you so damn much. I can’t do this without you anymore. You need to come home. I need you. I love you.”

He . . . what?

He loves me? Since fucking when?

“That’s not fair,” I said as tears filled my eyes, torn between hating him for confessing these things in his inebriated state, and hoping he’d tell me more.