Seducing Mr. Grumpy

13. Something new. [Part 2]

I press my hand against his stomach and push him away, but he looks at me amused and pulls me by the same hand, making me bounce back toward him. A giggle escapes me and I splash him with more water, screaming when he pulls us both toward a deeper spot. A big wave crashes over us, but he slides his arm behind my back and keeps me pressed against him.

I laugh, holding onto his shoulders.

"You see? You can be playful."

"Brat," Nic says, almost tenderly, then gently brushes my hair back, tucking the strands away. "I was looking for you so we could eat at that restaurant."

"The fancy one?"

"Mmm." He nods, focused on removing a twig or something stuck in my hair. His fingers are gentle, patient, like a child concentrated on his most important task. "What the hell is this?"

"I think it's some kind of seaweed."

He pulls out the little twig and throws it forcefully to the side, as if it had offended him for daring to touch me.

"Can we still go?" I ask him.

"We already missed the reservation," he says with a sigh, looking me straight in the eyes, "and it's better here, isn't it?"

"I guess."

He smiles at me, like everything’s already resolved, and I get excited seeing this side of him—relaxed and sweet, protective without being overbearing, peaceful, without that weight he always seems to carry on his shoulders.

Without thinking, just on instinct, I wrap my arms around his neck and cling to him, wrapping my legs around his waist tightly, then hug him like my life depends on it, because I love having him close and because I love him—and the moment is so beautiful I can’t help but want him even closer.

Nic immediately grabs my bare thighs and lifts me a little to adjust our position, so I take it as his consent, which makes me smile even more.

"I love you, Nic," I tilt my head back to look him in the eyes, "and I don’t want you to ever forget that… ever."

"It’s kind of hard to forget when you say it so often."

"Does it bother you?"

"It is what it is."

Another wave hits us, pushing us even closer, and his hands grip my thighs a little tighter.

I swallow, my shaky breath mixing with his, and it’s not the cold that’s making me tremble, it’s his touch and his closeness. When his thumbs start to stroke my skin, I realize from his expression that he’s doing it instinctively, unintentionally, which makes me laugh a little.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," I shake my head, splashing him with water, "I'm just happy."

"Ah," is his dry response.

This man—why do I love him so much?

I squeeze him tighter and kiss the tip of his nose, then hide my face in his neck and sigh against his skin, which gives him goosebumps. I almost expect him to ask me to back off, but instead he just tightens his grip on my thighs, adjusting me better against his torso, and sighs, staring distantly at the sky.

"What are you thinking about, Nic?" I ask, searching for his eyes.

"I don’t know… it’s just that, out of the millions and millions of galaxies out there… you and I were born in the same one."

"Do you think there’s life outside this planet?"

He blushes a little, like he’s embarrassed to talk about it, but when he sees I’m not making fun of him and I’m genuinely interested, he relaxes and speaks with more confidence, more sure of himself and his beliefs.

"Of course, it’s the most logical thing," he nods. "Maybe different types of life, probably not like we imagine it, but there’s definitely much more out there… so what are the odds?"

"Mmm?"

"You and me, same galaxy, same planet, same country, same moment in time—what do you think are the odds?"

"Infinite?"

"Infinite… Infinite probability says that if something has even the slightest chance of happening, if you wait long enough, it will happen."

I think about that for a long moment.

"Well, probabilities are beautiful when you paint them like that, don’t you think, Nic?"

"Is that so?" he looks at me, curious.

"It’s a miracle, an almost impossible one, that we met, you and me..."

"I wouldn’t call it a miracle."

"I would," I say, offended, looking him in the eyes. "The most impossible and wonderful miracle—beautiful and—"

"You’re the beautiful one."

We both freeze, equally surprised that those words came out of his mouth, and I see how he’s about to shut down, like saying that triggered something in him, so I grab his head and dunk him under the water, breaking through his rising walls.

We both go under, and I swim to the surface, Nic coming up a second later, wiping his eyes.

I burst out laughing when I see his shocked expression—he didn’t expect me to dunk him.

"Come here, Summer," he calls out, but I turn and swim away from him, our laughter half-muted by the waves.

And that’s the first time that, as an adult, Dominic Pauls acts like a kid.

|…|

We have dinner at the hotel restaurant before going up to the suite, still covered in sand but already dry from the breeze.

"Good night, Nic," I say, stopping at the door of my room, and he does the same at his. "I had a good time."

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Good night, Sum."

I watch him go in, feeling happy and light, but that feeling fades a bit when I see the huge bed waiting for me. I’ve gotten used to sleeping on the portable mattress Nic bought me, and going back to the floor isn’t something I’m looking forward to. Even though I’ve made progress and now take short naps on the bed during the day, at night it’s still impossible for me to sleep alone.

I guess it’ll be the floor.

I head into the bathroom for a shower, go through my nighttime routine, and return to my room—only to stop in my tracks when I see Nic asleep in my bed. He’s already sleeping, curled up on one side, his breathing steady and calm.

Did he fall asleep waiting for me?

I don’t know what to do. I know sleeping next to him would be easy, but I…

Maybe… just for tonight?

I toss my worries out the window and climb into bed next to him, resting my head on the pillow and turning to face him.

There’s something so mysterious about watching him sleep. He looks so young and peaceful, far from that usual grumpiness he carries around.

He’s really handsome, my grumpy man… truly handsome.

I lift my hand and carefully, very carefully, run my index finger between his brows, gently tracing that frown line he always has but isn’t there now. I remember when we were kids, I’d tell him he was going to age too fast if he kept frowning like that, and he’d frown even more in response. Then he’d ignore me while I flitted around him like the butterfly he accused me of being. And the truth is, I’ve always fluttered around him, drawn like a magnet to something I didn’t understand as a kid. And now, as an adult, I still don’t really understand it.

I pull my hand away as Nic wakes up, his eyes opening and meeting mine, a quiet calm settling over us for a few seconds.

"I thought you were never coming out of the bathroom," he says, voice rough and slow with sleep.

I bite my lip, trying not to smile at how seductive his voice sounds like this.

"Were you waiting for me?"

"I can’t sleep knowing you’ll be on the floor."

"I’m fine."

His eyes flash with something dangerous.

"Summer, stop giving me that f*****g answer," he growls, and somehow that sound makes me press my thighs together.

Oh, damn it, now is not the time to get turned on.

But… does he know what he’s doing to me?

His sleepy eyes, his raspy voice, his scent—everything about him touches me, and I’m only human. I’d be dead if I didn’t feel anything.

And he notices.

His brows furrow in confusion, his gaze falls to my neck—right where I can feel my pulse racing—and then he does the last thing I expect.

Nic lifts his hand and, with a firm, confident grip, holds my neck, his thumb pressing over that frantic vein.

"Your pulse is racing," he says, rougher than before.

Suddenly the air grows heavy, and both our breaths become uneven and loud. His hand on my neck is firm and heavy—almost possessive—and the look in his eyes is something I’ve never seen before.

I blink slowly, my gaze dropping to his pulse.

"Yours is going fast too."

A low, deeply masculine growl escapes him, his hand tightens, and his thumb strokes me in a maddening way.

My heart beats so fast I worry he can hear it, but I swear it stops altogether when Nic moves his hand up in a touch as intimate as his gaze, and his thumb finds the line of my jaw, gently tracing my skin up to my chin.

I part my lips slightly, gasping for air, and he licks his lips like he’s savoring us both. The jolt of desire that runs through me makes me tremble, so I close my eyes and lean into his touch, craving more, craving him.

Nic lets out another sound from deep in his chest, almost animalistic, his grip on my neck tightening. And when his thumb finds my lower lip and slides over it, slow and firm, I open my eyes to meet his.

He’s starving—and not for food. The hunger in his eyes is so intense I wonder if I’m dreaming.

"Nic…"

The sound of his name seems to break the spell, because he blinks—and it’s all gone.

"Good night, Summer."

He turns his back to me and says nothing else.

It all happens so fast I can’t react right away. I just lie there, trying to process what just happened. Deep down, I’m not surprised he shut down again, but I am surprised by the wave of desire that just crashed over us—because I know we both felt it.

But…

"When I think I’m making progress with you, I slam right into a brick wall… and it hurts, Nic."

I wait patiently, but he still gives me nothing.

I smile sadly and whisper a soft, "Good night, Nic."

I turn around, give him my back, and do the same thing he’s doing—pretend the connection doesn’t exist.

[2/2]