Author's Notes: This chapter turned out to be way more angsty than I had originally planned, but I love writing angsty Nick since I can identify with him so well! I hope you enjoy chapter 3 of 5!

Nick's Perspective

Nick's head rocked lightly from side to side as he began to stir from his slumber. Squeezing his closed eyes together even tighter, he gradually began to realize that the slowed down movement of the car signaled the approaching end of his nap. But oh, what a much needed nap it was! Maybe it was only because he craved the extra rest so badly, but Nick was quite certain that he had never slept better on a road trip in his entire life. He thought that he may even have had a pleasant dream…It had something to do with feeling happy and safe, but he couldn't quite remember the exact details of it…Regardless, Nick was by no means ready to open his eyes and let that feeling of amity come to an end.

Until.

"Nick? Hey, Nick? We're here, Nick."

The mixture of Jess's sweet breath and heavenly whispers tickled his ear and made something in his chest flutter. He felt an unwitting half of a smile cross his face. He mumbled something that was incomprehensible even to himself, and relaxed a little more into the warmth supporting his head.

Happiness.

Safety.

Then, it hit him.

Shit.

Shit.

He had fallen asleep on Jess's shoulder.

For the whole. Damn. Trip.

Nick shot up quickly and brought his hand to his face, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You idiot, you idiot, you idiot, his brain chorused repeatedly. You fight with her, and then you fall asleep on her shoulder? What kind of stupid boy are you? Nick kept his eyes closed much longer than he probably should have. He didn't want to have to face Jess just yet…

"Hey, I'm sorry I fell asleep on your shoulder," Nick began, continuing to rub his closed eyes. "I one hundred percent did not mean for that to happen." His voice was heavy and scratchy from sleep.

Finally, Nick opened his eyes and glanced warily at the girl sitting next to him. He was met with a sheepish grin from Jess. She was not quite looking at him, but was instead distracted by the many zippers and fastenings of her purse.

"Not a problem, Nick. I know how tired you were. And I also know how much you seem to prefer my shoulder to a pillow when napping on road trips. Which, by the way, is something I don't think I will ever understand."

Nick chuckled and nodded his head a few times, memories of a random road trip to Mexico filling his brain. "Ha, yeah. You're right. That makes no sense, does it?" He considered her for a moment, simultaneously hoping she would look at him and also relieved that she wasn't witnessing him at his most vulnerable. "Sorry again, Jess."

Finally, he caught her eye.

"Stop apologizing, Nick. Not a big deal at all." She flashed him a small smile, opened the door of the car, and exited, closing the door behind her.

Nick stared straight ahead and sighed. Damn it, why did he always look like an idiot in front of Jess? He seemed to have a magical ability to make things way more awkward with her than they already were.

He waited a few moments, and then climbed out of the car as well. For someone who had been so adamant about not coming on this wine trail tour in the first place, Nick had to admit that the view of the Stolo Family Vineyard before him was absolutely stunning. Against the backdrop of a clear blue sky and rolling green hills sat an adorable white cottage, complete with two rustic rocking chairs sitting atop a front porch. Not far from the cottage was a large, red barn that faced many green acres of vines and grapes just waiting to be cultivated.

And in the distance, a girl with dark, curly brown hair skipped along the gravel path and chatted amicably with her friends. Sunshine and a smile illuminated her face.

Yes, the scene before Nick's eyes was a vision: One of plenary and utter beauty.

With that, Nick Miller walked down the same gravel path toward the cottage, with just a little more bounce in his step.

~N&J~

"What can I get for you next, sir?"

"Well…" Nick stared at the long menu of reds and whites and rosés as if he was trying to decipher a puzzle in a foreign language. Although he was a bartender by trade, Nick had never been well versed in wine tasting. He was definitely a whiskey and beer man. Wine was more of Schmidt's thing. "Um…can you tell me a little bit about this…uh…Double Cross Red Blend?" he asked.

"Of course, sir. The Blend contains Syrah and Pinot Noir as well as hints of blackberry, violet, and wood. It is one of our customers' favorites," the bartender replied automatically.

"Yeah, sure…that sounds great. I'll try that." The bartender poured the Blend into the glass and Nick began sipping slowly. He was sitting at the main bar with Schmidt and Cece. Schmidt was rambling on and on about which wine would be the perfect choice for the cocktail hour and Cece acquiesced to his excitement by making notes about each wine on her menu. Schmidt kept seeking Nick's opinion on the wine options as well, but to be honest, Nick wasn't completely engaged in the conversation. In fact, he was so preoccupied with watching Winston and Jess talk with one another at the oaken table nearby that he couldn't be sure that Schmidt and Cece even were still on the topic of finding the absolute best rosé to serve at the wedding dinner.

Good god, was she ever stunning. Nick couldn't remember the last time he had allowed himself to just look at Jess. Her hair fell in splendid curls around her shoulders. Her sleeveless, royal blue sundress perfectly complemented her creamy and rosy-cheeked complexion. Her eyes danced with amusement as she listened to Winston tell one of his latest stories from work and her laugh—god, the sound of her laughter sent a warm wave of familiarity and bliss through Nick, a feeling totally and completely opposite to the one with which he had begun his day.

He couldn't let his highly charged emotions from the morning dictate the rest of their weekend. Nick and Jess were already too weird around each other, and Nick knew they definitely didn't need any more of that weirdness permeating their unquestionably fragile relationship.

Pride be damned. Nick was going to be a damn grown-up for once and do the right thing: Apologize to Jess for his behavior from earlier. Surely, that would get him on her good side again…right?

"…And I'm thinking that for the centerpieces we could have an arrangement of coral charm peonies, Juliet garden roses, and parrot tulips-"

"Oh my god, Schmidt. You're too much. Considering it looks like we've lost Nick, we need to get a masculine opinion up in here. Winston! Get over here! Schmidt is talking about flower arrangements again!" Cece caught Winston's attention and he walked over to the bar, sighing in preparation for some more Schmidt-esque shenanigans.

This was his chance. Nick stood up and slowly walked up to Jess as she read something on her phone. He nudged her as he walked past, quickly taking Winston's vacated seat.

"Hey," he said quietly, staring into her crystal blue eyes.

"Hey, back," Jess replied.

"Jess, look, I'm sorry about this morning. I truly don't know what got into me. I was being a dummy and it wasn't fair that I took it out on ya. I'm sorry, Jess. I hope you can accept my apology."

Jess tilted her head to the side and curved her lips upward. She waited a few moments, seeming to consider Nick (and making him sweat in the process), and finally responded with, "It's all good, Miller."

Nick didn't realize how tense his muscles were until he felt his whole body relax at the sound of her words. He beamed in reply, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table.

Being forgiven by Jess made him feel lighter somehow. Less broken.

However, Nick should have known Jess wasn't about to just let him continue on without a true explanation. "But hey Nick?" she added. "Can I ask you something?"

Nick took a deep breath. He nodded nervously.

"What the hell was that actually all about?" she asked him.

Nick raised his eyebrows, made eye contact with Jess for the briefest of moments, and then almost instantaneously gazed down again. He shrugged, sheepish, not really wanting to place his burdens back on her.

"Oh…I mean…no…it's nothing. Don't worry about it Jess. I, uh, just haven't been having a good last few days."

"That's not it and you know it, Nick. You've always been grumpy, but you've been on a whole other level of turtle-faced Nick Miller lately."

He glanced down again and found that the paper napkin that used to rest innocently on the table had now been twisted into a violent knot in his hands. "No, really," Nick began, avoiding her gaze. "It's nothing. I just overreacted for no reason. It's cool."

A few tense seconds passed before Jess spoke again, this time much more subdued. "Okay. If that's all you have to say, then I believe you." She turned her head, attention drifting from Nick, seemingly desperate to look at anything in the tasting room besides him.

He was losing her. She was slipping away. She seemed-disappointed. Could that be possible? Once again, Nick and Jess were erring more on the side of acquaintances, mere roommates, rather than toward the degree of friendship that he missed so much. Is that what he wanted? To create this space, this distance between them again? To push her away whenever she wanted to be there for him, to help him?

Nick tipped his head back and sighed deeply. "You're right, Jess. There's more to it than just some bad days."

Jess looked startled at his sudden revelation, his honesty, his openness with her.

"It's just…I've never felt this…this...lost before. I always kind of thought my life would just work itself out, but I've been having these panicky realizations of how I'm in my mid-thirties and I have no idea what I'm doing. I want this bar thing with Schmidt to work out, but I'm worried it's going to be another half ass idea like everything else that we do is. He's going to realize sooner or later that trying to run a fraction of a bar is a miserable way to support his wife. And I want to do something meaningful. Something that will help other people. Something that will remind people that I haven't always been this lazy, pathetic excuse for a human being. I'm not like that. I want to be good. I don't want to feel so alone and forgot—" Nick trailed off, eyes connecting briefly with Jess's. Too much too soon, Miller,he thought. He was rambling, he was choking. He needed to get it under control…"I mean, well…I guess, I just want others to know about what I have to offer."

He held her gaze with intention, with purpose. She followed suit, and he thought he saw a flicker of something cross her eyes. The feeling associated with this flicker, however, was something that he had trouble placing. Was she feeling sympathetic toward what he was going through? Was she freaked out by his soliloquy? Was she feeling sorry for poor old Nick Miller, who just never seemed to get anything right? Was she bored of his seemingly stagnant way of life, ready to just pat him on the shoulder, robotically tell him that everything would be alright, and then leave it at that? His lower back began pooling with sweat as he felt his determination from a second before falter. He'd said too much. He shouldn't have dumped everything on her like this. Not when they weren't even friends anymore. It was dumb. He shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't. Shouldn't. Shouldn't.

Nick went back to staring at and twisting and shredding the napkin in his hand. It's all he had to hold onto. All he could control. The fate of the napkin was in his hands.

And his own fate? Well, it didn't seem like it could possibly be in his hands anymore. It had been out of reach for too many years, for far too long.

Twist, shred, tear. Twist, shred, tear. With each piece that was ripped off came the stinging reminder of his ambition being twisted away from him, of the shredding of his self-confidence over the years.

Of the tearing of his heart that occurred every day when he saw Jessica Day's face and was reminded that she was no longer his own.

Twist, shred, tear. Twist, shred, tear.

And then, a different kind of tear.

This time, one lone tear falling from the corner of his right eye, tracing a trail of heartache down his cheek.

Just then, Jess's hand came into view, gently taking the contorted and tortured napkin from his hand and bringing it to rest beside her. Her hand then returned to his line of sight, and she covered his warm, strong hand with her own soft and small one.

Happiness. Safety.

"Let's take a walk," she whispered.