Pure Hearts Page 11

  I felt like shit. Not only had Iris tried to help my ma—which I initially resented—but she gave me the credit for it.

  Clearing my throat, I turned toward her, her arm falling away in the process. “Actually, it was all Iris’s idea. I didn’t even know you two were coming over until she showed up and told me.”

  I cringed, waiting for the look of disappointment to enter my mother’s eyes. It never came. Instead her lips lifted into the most brilliant grin.

  “What?” I asked with a curious smile. She shook her head, her eyes flitting over to Iris and Dr. Moore.

  “I think it’s curious that you both tried to make the other look good. I can’t recall you doing that for your other friends,” she finished, putting extra emphasis on the word friends, before she left my side and joined her date.

  Ten minutes later we were seated around the table. Ma had already prayed and we were passing around the dishes.

  “I love the candles, Nicky. Are they new?” I looked up and found her smirking, with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

  “Yes,” I said with a fake grin as I plopped a pile of potatoes on my plate. “I thought I’d start classing the place up.” Ma couldn’t hold back her chuckle. Trevor smiled and softly brushed his thumb along her jaw. I watched her cheeks turn pink under his attention. She cleared her throat and threw him a small smile.

  “So, how was the fair?” my mother asked Iris as she passed me the rolls.

  “It went great! Nick was kind enough to stay and help.” I felt tingles explode up my arm when Iris placed her hand on my arm. “And everyone loved his food.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Dr. Moore added, his eyes on me. “I’ve only had a few bites, but it’s delicious.”

  I gave him a tight-lipped smile and thanked him. For once, I wasn’t trying to be a hard-ass for the sake of it. I just felt it was my duty, as her son, to make sure he was worthy of her. He gave me a subtle nod like he understood and wasn’t offended.

  Iris obviously didn’t see it because she dug her nails into my arm. I looked over and she mouthed “be nice.” She didn’t seem mad, though—it was almost playful. I smiled, a full one that no doubt showed off my dimples, and maybe I was imagining it, but I thought her grin widened too.

  I couldn’t stop the flood of overwhelming joy that filled my chest. This all felt so right. I felt comfortable around her in a way I’d never experienced before. If we were dating this would be the moment I grabbed her by the neck and kissed her… just for the hell of it. Just for being her.

  Our eyes disconnected and her hand fell away when Dr. Moore started asking her more questions about her job. I caught my ma’s smirk as she pretended to be increasingly interested in her string beans.

  The rest of dinner continued in much the same fashion. Iris did something cute, I’d try to hide my grin, and my ma would swoon like a fangirl.

  I had to—begrudgingly—admit that Dr. Moore was a gentleman. He pulled the chair out for my mother when she sat. He didn’t pull out his phone (you’d be surprised how often I’d pass through the restaurant and see couples on their phones during a date). And he regularly glanced at my mother (usually when she wasn’t looking) like he couldn’t believe she was real.

  “I’ll clean the dishes,” he volunteered. “Nick, you’ve already done so much, and you ladies deserve to relax.”

  I watched as he stood and started collecting plates. When he gave my ma’s shoulder a quick squeeze, I snapped out of it.

  “I’ll help.”

  “Really, I don’t mind—”

  My mother placed her hand over his on her shoulder. “Nicky is very particular with his cookware.”

  “You wash and I’ll dry?” I compromised when it looked like he still wanted to argue.

  “Sure.”

  We got settled into an easy routine, while my mother and Iris sat on the couch and caught up. I glanced at Dr. Moore out of the corner of my eye.

  “So, Dr. Moore—”

  “Trevor,” he interrupted.

  “Dr. Moore, how long have you been seeing my mother?”

  He shook his head, trying to hide his grin. “I’ve been talking to her for a few months now.”

  “I see.” I turned to look him over. “You’re successful and relatively good-looking, so why are you single? What’s wrong with you?”

  Dr. Moore started laughing so hard the girls looked over. Both narrowed their eyes at me.

  “What? I’m funny.” My mother playfully shook her head, while Iris gave me a soft smile.

  “I’ve always been very dedicated to my job, Nick. That’s what’s wrong with me,” he said good-heartedly.

  “But my mother has changed that?”

  “Most definitely.” I carefully dried my paring knife before focusing on him. He was completely unruffled.

  “And you’re not annoyed that Iris and I crashed your date?”

  He smiled, patient and kind. “Not at all. Your mother relaxed considerably once we got here. The happier she is, the happier I am.”

  Either I was surrounded by paragons of good, or I was seriously losing my touch for being an asshole. No one seemed affected by my gruff behavior anymore.

  “Something tells me you know what that’s like.”

  “What what’s like?”

  “Meeting a woman who changes you, who causes you to put your whole life into perspective.”

  My gaze shifted to Iris. She was listening intently to whatever Ma was saying. Because that was what she did. She gave you her full attention, she made you feel special and important. Whether that was the teacher in her, or just who she was, I couldn’t be sure. But I knew one thing for certain: she treated everyone like they mattered. It was an admirable trait. Unfortunately, it made reading her extremely difficult.

  My mother’s comment about friends floated through my brain. She was right—of course—I was different with Iris. But how was I supposed to tell if the girl who was kind to everyone felt anything deeper for me?

  Then Iris looked over at me, her eyes colliding with mine. And in that moment, I knew. It was the way her body was always slightly turned toward me, or how her smile remained just a couple of inches higher when she looked away from me. They were subtle gestures; some might even say I was reading too much into them. But I knew that wasn’t the case.

  Because I knew her.

  I knew she used at least two paper towels to dab the grease off her pizza. She did her best to step over the cracks in the sidewalk. She wasn’t a fan of surprises. She had an unhealthy—in my opinion—love for lemon bars and lemon-scented things.

  I also knew that when she got married she wanted any gifts to be donations to her favorite charity, St. Jude’s, in lieu of actual presents. I think that was the first time I stared at her in awe. Iris had tried to brush it off, saying she just wanted to pick out her own things, but I knew better.

  The main, motivating factor was her kindness.

  Her pure heart.

  I glanced back at Trevor. “Yeah, I know exactly what that’s like.”

  I hadn’t seen Nick since Monday. The day had been perfect, even with Judy randomly showing up and making things a little awkward. As I left his house that night and hugged his mom goodbye, she seemed exceedingly happy as she told me she wanted to double date again. When I told her Nick and I hadn’t been on a date, she grinned and patted me on the cheek like a child.

  As the week went on I couldn’t get that interaction out of my head. Every time I talked to him, the thought was there.

  Are we more?

  Part of me thought we might be. And that tiny part was able to convince me that I needed to ask him.

  I was looking at our texts from earlier today, when we had joked about him doing little things in an effort to see the world better.

  Nick: I tried to help a pregnant woman with her groceries last night.

  Me: That was nice :) I’m sure she appreciated it.

  Nick: Yeah, not so much…

  Me: :( Why
not?

  Nick: She wasn’t actually pregnant :/

  Me: Oh.

  After I explained to him that you NEVER assumed a woman was pregnant, unless you actually saw her delivering the baby, I asked him to come over tonight. He had to work, but he was adamant he could cut out early and stop by for a bit. It was Friday night and I had no reason to be up early, so it worked out perfectly.

  I tried to convince myself I wasn’t nervous as I sat at my kitchen table with a glass of liquid courage in front of me, staring at the clock on the microwave. It was forty minutes past eight, and if he got out early like he thought, he should’ve been here twenty minutes ago.

  I was so jittery I practically flew out of my seat when I heard a knock on the door. I reached the server by the front door and paused. Facing the mirror, I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. It’d been a long time since a guy had affected me this way.

  My cheeks were flushed and my hair was straight with a slight curl to the ends. I was also wearing a little more makeup than usual: tinted moisturizer, mascara, and some red lipstick. All of this was paired with hip-hugging jeans and a white blouse that hung loose around my frame. You wouldn’t know by looking at me that I’d spent all evening lounging in my pajamas as soon as I got off work today.

  I took one last deep breath before pivoting toward the door, checking the peephole to confirm it was him, and opening it.

  That deep breath proved worthless. Nick was wearing light-wash jeans that conformed to every inch of him, and a long-sleeved, dark blue Henley with the top two buttons undone. I gulped, and when my eyes skimmed his jaw I noticed his beard was neatly trimmed—something his mom told me was pretty rare. I followed his hand as he brought it up and pushed back his still-wet hair.

  And then he killed me.

  With his head still lowered, he peeked up at me from under his lashes and smiled, those dimples slaying me on the spot. On anyone else, the pose might have seemed ridiculous, but Nick was one hundred percent sincere, and despite his gruff exterior, he was actually kind of sweet and shy.

  “Hey,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “Sorry I’m late. I wanted to run home and shower first. I tried to be quick, hence the wet hair.” Nick motioned to the damp locks and shrugged.

  I gripped the door frame. I was pretty sure I’d never wanted to kiss anyone more. Between insisting he could come over at nine o’clock after a double at work, wanting to look nice, and rushing over, I’d never felt so wanted. I still wasn’t sure what this meant to Nick, but I was hoping it meant the same to him as it did to me. Otherwise it’d be really awkward when I asked him out tonight…

  “Iris?”

  I shook my head and lifted my gaze.

  Crap. Had I been staring at his lips?

  “Yeah?”

  He chuckled and motioned behind me. “Can I come in?”

  “Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course,” I babbled like an idiot, almost tripping on my welcome rug in my hurry to back up. Once he passed, I slowly shut the door and leaned my head against it for a second, trying to compose myself.

  I turned around and found him staring at me. “Are you okay?” he asked, his concerned gaze roaming over my face.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” I hiccupped as I brushed past him. We walked into the kitchen and I pointed to the almost empty wineglass. “This is why I usually don’t have wine.”

  “Ah. Rough day?”

  “No. I just felt like a glass. What about you? Do you want anything to drink?”

  “Beer?”

  “Coming right up.” I was thankful to have something to do. After grabbing it and popping the lid, I handed the bottle over. He eagerly accepted, draining nearly half of it in one gulp.

  “I talked to Amanda today.”

  “Amanda?” I asked. I couldn’t remember where I’d heard the name before. Truthfully, I was having trouble concentrating in general.

  “The waitress I practically chucked a pan at.”

  “Ah, right. And?”

  He walked over to the couch and sat down with a sigh. “It went fine. She doesn’t seem as nervous around me anymore, but…” Nick shook his head and started picking at the label on his bottle.

  “I wasn’t always this way.” He immediately snapped his mouth shut. I didn’t say anything. It seemed like he was working through something. “I don’t mean to keep beating a dead horse. I know we’ve talked about this already. It just really hit me today, how people see me.”

  I walked toward the couch, leaving my wineglass on the table, and sat down on the opposite end. “But now you have a chance to change that perception,” I said softly.

  “Because of you,” he whispered back. The air froze in my lungs, and when he turned to look at me, I lost it completely. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than you know. More than I can ever thank you for.”

  My hands twitched, begging me to grab one of his, but I managed to refrain. “I’m glad.”

  He shook his head, looking more put off by the idea. “I like you, Iris. I like being your friend.” I tried to keep a neutral face as he dropped the “friend” bomb. “I don’t always understand you, how you can be so good, so pure… but I want to.”

  “I don’t understand the problem.”

  “The problem is, what am I giving you?”

  I frowned. This was definitely not how I imagined tonight going. And it was such a flip from when we first met. Then he accused me of wanting something from him; now he was practically despondent because he thought he had nothing to give.

  “I worry that while you’re helping me, I’ll eventually hurt you.” His gaze shifted to the fresh chrysanthemums I bought in the middle of the week. “You’re like this blooming flower, gorgeous and new and untouched. I’m afraid I’m the boot that will step on you, that will kill you.”

  I stayed quiet for a few minutes. I knew what I wanted to say, just not how to say it. When it finally came to me, I slid down the couch and took his hand.

  “No, Nick, you’re not. You’re like the weather. Your anger is a passing rain cloud. And I’m strong enough to withstand it and wait for the sun. And the rain, like your pain, is temporary. You’ll find your way again. No one’s course is permanent. Destiny, fate, whatever you want to call it… is a constantly evolving creature that we get to shape. Don’t take the coward’s way out by locking yourself in some perceived box of loneliness and despair, saying it was meant to be this way. It’s meant to be whatever way you want it.”

  I was smiling, but his face remained stoic until my lips slowly dropped. My slightly alcohol-clouded mind went through what I’d said. It made sense and wasn’t insulting. Maybe Nick needed more encouragement. Maybe this was a bigger project than I’d realized—

  Startled, I jumped back when he put his beer on the table and suddenly stood. One hand was resting against my wildly beating heart as he grabbed my other arm, yanking me up.

  I swayed slightly, but only for a second before he was pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me.

  “Thank you,” he whispered directly into my ear. I shivered as my brain finally caught up and I weaved my arms around his waist.

  Melting into him, I turned my head and rested it against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

  “You’re welcome,” I finally responded.

  I started to feel guilty. This was obviously a big deal for Nick, a personal and emotional moment. And all I could think about was how good he felt pressed up against me.

  He made hugs feel erotic. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what everything else would feel like.

  We pulled apart. But I didn’t have a chance to feel embarrassed.

  “Jeez, Nick. We need to have some fun.”

  “Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Sorry about that.” Truthfully, I hadn’t meant to go there. After she asked me to hang out, I jumped at the chance and immediately started thinking of ways to ask her out. Even when I got off work, I tried to put the conversation with Amanda out of my mind, but as soon as
that awkward silence descended, I realized Iris was the only person I wanted to talk to about it.

  “Do you ever let loose?” she asked, not waiting for an answer before she grabbed my hand. “C’mon.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Nowhere. But what we are doing is having an impromptu dance party.”

  I immediately pulled my hand from her grip. “No we’re not.”

  She didn’t respond, just bounced over to her iPod dock in front of her kitchen window. I watched her pull out her iPhone and hook it up. Her ass stuck out as she leaned against the counter and scrolled through her music.

  I wondered if she had any idea what she did to me when she did shit like that. Probably not a fucking clue.

  “Perfect!” she exclaimed, her ass already moving even though the song had yet to start.

  Jesus.

  This was not going to end well for me. I forced my gaze away, but was immediately drawn back when the song started. It sounded like techno, and for some reason that was the last thing I expected Iris to listen to.

  She turned around, a wide, heart-stopping smile on her face as she danced toward me. I laughed at the exaggerated way she moved her hips. When she reached out for my hands, I shook my head and stepped back.

  “Uh-uh, no way.” I raised my hands to further demonstrate my point. She didn’t care. Instead she jumped up and grabbed them before interlocking our fingers in a gesture that felt far more intimate than this silly dance party we were apparently having.

  Then she started shaking… everything. Her ass swayed back and forth and her chest shimmied closer to me, all while I stood there.

  I couldn’t think of a single other girl who would do this around me. Lindsay might, but only because we’d been friends for years. But Colleen never acted this way. She never looked this free.

  “You’re seriously just going to stand there?” Iris hollered over the music.

  Very reluctantly, and with a roll of my eyes, I started lightly bouncing. Really, it couldn’t even be called dancing, but you wouldn’t know that with how Iris lit up. She jumped a little higher and brought us closer as she moved her head back and forth.