Walk Away, The Romance of Nick and Layla (Part 1) (13 page)

"Your what?"

"My present! You don’t think I flew
all the way to New York just to see you, did you? Velvet box? Possibly
jewelry
? Possibly condoms?"

"Which would you rather have?" he
asked with that cocky grin.

"Do you really want me to answer
that?"

"Maybe not. But your present is back
at the hotel. For now you just have to wait. With me."

"Damn."

Nick played with my fingers as he stretched
back into the seat, relaxing into the comfortable leather. "So what’d you
do today?" he asked.

"An interview that I should have said
no to.”

Nick looked at me strangely. "Since
when do you do interviews?"

"Since knowing that if I didn’t the
phone calls would never stop. Besides, they were nice enough. A bit
over-zealous with trying to make me say something revealing, but basically it
was nothing."

"What’d they want to know?"

"What size shoe I wear. What do you
think? They asked about you and me and our marriage and Vanessa."

"Oh."

"Don’t worry. I didn’t reveal anything
they didn’t already know. But I did clear up the
rumor
that we’re divorcing."

Nick went tense next to me. Even in the
dark I could see the pensive look on his face. The cloudiness in his eyes.
"What’d you say?"

"The truth."

Nick looked at me gravely. "Which
is?"

I interlocked our hands and crossed my
legs. "That we’re not getting divorced."

I could hear him breathe a sigh of relief.
Guess he was also wondering about that one. "Glad to hear it."

"So tell me about what you’ve been
working on these past couple of weeks."

Nick’s body relaxed again and it made me
relax. "Usual stuff. But I’m doing more writing. More producing. Playing
more instruments."

"Anything I can hear yet?"

"Maybe in a couple of days. I want to
make sure what I have is perfect before I let you listen to it."

"Why?" I asked. Sometimes hearing
the unfinished work was more enjoyable than the finished product. Less glossy
production. More raw music.

"Just because."

"Nick, why are you so concerned that I
listen to your music only when it’s perfect? You know I think that anything you
sing is perfect."

Nick smiled and looked at me. "Thanks.
So what have you been doing the past couple weeks? Plotting bloody murder on
Missy Page?"

"No. That only took a couple hours.
The rest of the time I just hung out at the house. Went shopping. Went to the
beach. Got some sun. Cleaned the house. Started a writing project."

"You’re writing again?" he asked
with sudden interest.

"Yeah. I mean, I have my degree in
English Literature, might as well use it for something, right?"

"What are you writing about?"

"Right now, a bunch of nonsense. I
haven’t exactly found my solid plot yet. But basically it revolves around a
young girl and her relationships in life."

"Autobiographical?"

"Not really. Just based on some things
I’ve seen in life."

"I bet you’d be really good at writing
music."

I’d be good at writing what?! "Why do
you say that?"

"Because you write from your heart.
And you’ve been through so much in your short life so far. I just think you’d
really be able to write something great."

"I’ve never tried. Never crossed my
mind to try. I leave that stuff up to you. You’re the musical genius."

Now it was Nick’s turn to roll his eyes.
"Whatever."

"Are you blushing?" I took a
close look at his face in the darkened limo and smiled.

"No."

"Yes you are."

"No. You blush. I tint."

I laughed my ass off at that one. "How
exactly does one tint?"

"You know!" He made an unclear
hand gesture. "Tint."

"Nick you’re too much."

"Oh, before I forget, I do have
something for you." I watched as he reached into the tiny refrigerator and
pulled out a clear plastic box. He handed it to me after placing a fork on top.
"Big gooey chocolate cake."

"Oh my god!" I laughed. "You
brought me cake?!"

"I brought you cake. You know, since
you love it so much."

I looked at Nick and smiled. "Yeah. I
do."

I watched with keen surprise as Nick’s face
suddenly welled up with emotion. "That’s what you said on our wedding day.
And you said it with that exact expression on your face that you have
now."

Is he? I think he’s going to cry.
"Nick, are you okay?"

"I’m fine."

"You’re crying."

"No I’m not."

"Yes you are, Nick."

"Guys don’t cry."

"I’ve seen you cry. You’re a
guy."

"Thank you for noticing. But no, I’m
not crying."

"Okay, then why are you so emotional?
And how on Earth do you remember my exact facial expression the day we were
married?"

Nick’s eyes diverted down to our joined
hands. "I remember every single moment of that day." He took my left
hand in his left hand and locked them together, our wedding rings clinking
softly against each other. "And I’m not emotional. I’m just.... I don’t
know."

"You’re not as good as you think you
are."

Nick looked up at me, a questioning look on
his face. "Not good at what?"

"Hiding how you feel. At least not
with me. Sometimes, Nick Hudson, I think
you
forget who you’re talking
to. Your wife. After the years we’ve spent together I’ve learned how to read
you. And right now I’m reading some extreme emotional stuff going on in that
handsome head of yours."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "I just can’t
believe it’s been a year already."

"Didn’t think we’d make it?"

"No, not that. It seems like longer.
But with the time we were separated..."

"Shh." I put my free hand on his
leg and squeezed gently. "Let’s not talk about the past, okay? We’re
trying to work things out, remember? Let’s rehash the bad stuff another
day."

"Good idea."

"So. Now that I’m here in New York
with you what do you have planned for me? Hopefully a Broadway show is included
somewhere in the mix."

"Sure, if you want."

"I want."

Nick laughed easily and leaned into me.
"What else do you want?"

"A nice, hot, long shower."

"I think I can arrange for that."

"Maybe a massage."

"Mmm hmm," he nodded his head,
taking note of my requests.

"And, more than anything..."

"The longest love making session known
to man?" he interrupted me.

Good Lord. "You’re quite persistent,
aren’t you?"

"Have to be. Or else I’d never have
anything. Like you."

I smiled as a flood of memories came back
to me. The first day we met. The first time we kissed. How I wouldn’t kiss him
and he.... Sweet Lord. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. "Hot
chocolate."

"Hot chocolate?"

"A big brimming cup of sweet,
chocolately goodness."

"So after the shower, a massage and
hot chocolate, then what do you want?"

"You have to ask?"

"With you? Always."

I rolled my eyes and bumped my shoulder
against his. "You know me. Yes, after a shower, a massage and hot
chocolate, then we can have the longest love making session known to man. As
long as it’s erotically mind blowing."

"I think I can do that."

"Oh I know you can. The battery
operated penis is one thing, but it doesn’t give me multiple orgasms."

"And you think
I’m
naughty."

"You are. I learned from the
naughtiest."

"Girl you know it’s true," he
sang.

"Damn. Can’t this stupid car move any
faster?"

I watched as the smile on Nick’s lips grew
wider and wider. And cockier.

Ooh. Was I in for quite a night.

This was exactly what I needed. Hot.
Steamy. Orgasmic. Oh so good.

I felt my heart expand several inches as I
let myself be taken in by the sweet goodness of it all. I closed my eyes. I
think I even moaned. Oh but I couldn’t help it.

"Damn Layla."

I opened my eyes and looked at Nick, my
lids heavy with content.

"I’ve never seen anyone react that way
to hot chocolate."

I set the big mug down on my knee and tried
not to smile.

"I saw that."

"What are you, the hot chocolate
police? Leave me alone! It’s cold and this is good." I gave Nick my best
annoyed look and went back to my drink. His hand touched the inside of my knee.
It was better than the chocolate.

"That’s a no parking zone, Hudson.
Keep it moving."

"What’s gotten into you Layla? You’re
so
normal
."

I thought about it. Normal? As opposed to
what? "Thanks?" I asked, unsure.

"You know what this reminds me
of?" he asked.

I looked up at the ceiling, pretending to
think about it. Wonder how long I’d have to look without saying anything before
he’d realized I wasn’t really thinking? Two minutes. Tops.

"I was just thinking about how this is
what it was like when we were first dating. You know?"

"Yeah. I guess. It was a long time
ago."

"Three years isn’t a long time,"
he grunted.

"It is in Nick and Layla time."

"Good point."

"Maybe we never were fucked up,
Nick." The room suddenly became dead quiet. I couldn’t even hear our own
breathing. It was like someone put us on mute.

"What do you mean?" he asked
finally.

"Maybe we were normal the whole time.
I mean, couples fight, right? We fought more often than not, but still, we’re
together. Right now. For a whole year now. Maybe we weren’t fucked up, is all
I’m saying."

"What are you saying Layla? That we’re
going to put all of the past behind us and start new?"

"Exactly. Maybe we should put
everything on hold for a while. Just so that we can get to know each other
again. So we can fall in love again. I mean, I love you, always did and always
will. But maybe we can get that spark back that we had. You remember that
spark, don’t you?"

I turned to look as Nick smiled. Oh yeah,
he remembered. "Yes."

"We were happy, weren’t we?"

"Yes."

"Before it all went awry. Don’t know
when it all fell apart. But it changed us, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And now we should try and reclaim
that. Right?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to say anything besides
‘yeah’ or ‘yes’?"

"Sure."

"And to be honest, about this whole
baby thing... Whatever happens happens. Right? Nothing’s going to bring us down
again. If this child is yours, then it’s yours. So be it. Done deal. We’ll
adjust."

Nick’s bottom lip quivered. His eyes were
big and blue. He looked so young just then. So vulnerable. And it touched the
places in my heart that I thought were closed off from him.

"Baby, what’s wrong with you?" I
asked. I set my cup of hot chocolate down on the floor and twisted my body so I
could look him in his eyes. "Why do you look like you’re going to
cry?"

"I just..." Nick’s voice came in
and out. I could barely hear him. And for the first time in a really long time
I watched him start to cry.

"Nick, what’s the matter?"

He laughed nervously and wiped his eyes
with his hands. "I don’t know why I’m crying!"

I caught his hands in mine to stop him.
"Don’t wipe away your tears," I whispered.

Nick just looked at me. I watched as the
blue in his eyes intensified. "Why?"

I felt my own chest desperately heaving to
bring in oxygen. I couldn’t escape his eyes. It was like I was being pulled
into him. And all of a sudden I felt it. Love. Holy God. So this is what
complete and total love felt like? Like my body was gravitated into Nick’s
body? Like I had to touch him just to make sure he was still there. And I had
to look into his eyes just to understand what he was telling me all along. I’m
his. And he’s mine. And I finally felt it. This is my man. This is my husband.
Those are my tears he’s crying.

I could taste the sweet-saltiness of his
tears as my lips pressed gently against his eyes. And I wanted to give myself
to him. To make me believe that I was his. To let me be his. To let him own me
the way he wanted me to own him. Forever. As husband and wife. As Nick and
Layla. Until the day we die.