The congested traffic irritated Nick to no end. Silently the pair rode the elevator to the top floor, twenty-four stories. As they stepped off the elevator into a contemporary living room, Summer was glued to the spot where she stood.
At one time, Nick’s penthouse had been like a second home to her. She was familiar with every square foot of the spacious luxury dwelling. However, this did nothing for the level of uneasiness she was presently experiencing. Summer felt out of place, she wanted nothing more than to be at home curled up on the sofa drinking hot chocolate as she watched old movies.
It was written all over her face, she’d rather walk on hot coals barefoot than be secluded with Nick in his tower.
As he shrugged off his coat, he instructed Summer to do the same. Trudging in the snow and then waiting in it had completely saturated her pants from the ankles up to her mid-calves. She was not surprised when he said, “Your pants are wet. You need to take them off.”
Summer looked down to inspect her pants, which was useless; her protruding belly obscured her view. She had been so preoccupied with thoughts of home she hadn’t noticed the
wet cold fabric clinging to her legs. As she sneezed covering her mouth, “Aaachewww!” her mother’s words admonished her again.
Nick said, “Bless you,” as he gestured for Summer to hand him her coat.
“Thank you.”
“Come with me.” Turning and going to the hall closet, hanging up their coats he made his way to his bedroom with Summer lagging behind. Dreading every step, her legs became heavy upon entering the master bedroom suite. The instant she stepped across the threshold memories of being with Nick invaded and crowded every corner of her mind. If she could turn back the hands of time, she would’ve never made the fatal mistake of treading onto forbidden territory.
After months of dating, Nick remained a perfect gentleman. Summer, however knew it was just a matter of time before they’d become intimate. Every kiss, hug, and caress wore down her resistance. In the beginning the tiny voice in her head warned, don’t do it. After months of kisses, hugs, and caresses, the tiny voice became a faint whisper, hardly audible. When she decided to take the plunge, share his bed, the voice was buried so deep she never heard its pleas.
Nick was a drug to Summer. She was a clean vessel tasting an illicit substance. And like many addicts the first time was a bit awkward, but nevertheless enticing enough, exhilarating enough, to keep going back for more. The addiction was so strong she let fundamentals she’d been raised with like going to church fall by the wayside. Whenever she asked, “Why don’t you go to church with me on Sunday?” The answer was always, “I’m not ready for that yet,” which was always followed up with a suggestion to go to a jazz brunch, an afternoon game to see the Sixers or to play a couple sets of racquetball. Initially she tried to resist but the Jones for her drug was too strong, too overpowering.
“Summer?”
The baritone sound of her name snapped her back to the present.
“Huh?”
Nick handed her a tee shirt. “Here, put this on.”
Summer’s hands fumbled nearly dropping the tee shirt as Nick brushed pass her into the walk-in closet to grab a pair of jeans before he left the room.
♥♥♥
Nick snatched the cordless phone out its base on the kitchen wall.
The pickup came on the second ring.
“What’s up man?”
“What up with you? You’re the one who called me,” Kevin chortled.
Letting out a deep breath deciding to jump straight into it he said, “Summer’s here.” Nick paced the floor and waited for Kevin’s response. He always had something to say.
“Where?”
“Here…with me.”
“Get the hell out of here!”
“Wish I could but I can’t.” Ending his pacing, Nick leaned against the sink.
“Man, what is she doing at your place?”
“She came down to my office to bring the paternity consent.”
Deep. Summer actually signed it, poor girl. What is up with my man? Kevin talked to him until he had a migraine and was blue in the face. He’d told Nick to wait until he simmered down a bit before he presented Summer with the document. But as usual, when Nick had his mind set on something, he had the tenacity of a bulldog.
“Man…you made that girl come downtown… eight months pregnant… on public transportation… to bring you a piece of paper?”
Nick cringed at his best friend’s accusing tone. “I know man, I know…I was wrong.” A hint of regret laced his voice.
“Wrong for what, Nick, making her come downtown in a blizzard? Or making her sign that damn paper?”