Wishing it Never Happened
Part Two

Nick stood before me; his hands pushed deep into his jean pockets. He looked at me with his magnificent eyes and I almost stopped breathing.

Nick cleared his throat then said, "Hey." He shifted his weight onto his right foot. I didn't move. Had Nick ever ventured over to my residence? Usually I always went over to his house, or we went out somewhere. Nick hadn't ever been to my house, and yet…

Coming back to my senses, I responded. "Hi."

"Look Greg, do you mind if I come in? We need to talk," Nick told me, glancing past me into my apartment.

"Oh?" I said, an air of fake curiosity shoved into my voice. "Whatever would we talk about?"

"About Rachelle," Nick replied, clearing his throat again.

I shut the door in his face. I didn't want to hear about Rachelle. Nick already knew how I felt. I didn't need to be told that he didn't feel the same way about me. I got it. If he said it to my face, I'd probably just stop breathing all together. My heart would just… stop beating. I'd rather not hear it from him; hear the disgust woven into his deep voice.

"Greg!" Nick hollered through the door. I folded my arms and leaned against the wooden door.

"Greg, please open the door. I don't want your neighbors to think I'm breaking down the door."

Was Nick actually begging?

"Greg, please."

I opened the door a crack. I could see the older man's dark brown hair, his beautiful eyes and his square jaw. Right now he had a look of determination on his face. I had seen that look often, usually when he was dealing with a particularly stubborn suspect.

"Greg, I'm sorry that…"

"No, I get it," I interrupted him, blinking furiously to keep the tears out of my eyes. "It's okay. I understand, Nick." I tried shutting the door again, but he stuck his foot in the crack.

"No Greg, I don't think you do."

I just looked at him, fiercely trying to keep my eyes under control. I wouldn't allow myself to break down, to show him how much this had hurt me.

"Greg, please. Let me in," Nick requested, his voice soft and gentle. I couldn't say no. I pulled back the door and allowed him in, hating myself for crumbling so fast. Oh, how I wished I could stay mad at him. I needed the strength.

Nick walked into my living room, taking in everything. I knew he was looking at my half finished bowl of popcorn, my still full glass of Coke and the credits rolling on the muted TV.

"Party for one, I guess," Nick joked, turning back to me.

Okay, I retract my previous statement. I could remain mad at him.

"Out," I ordered, opening the front door again.

"No, Greg, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," Nick said quickly, putting his hands up defensively.

"You said that I don't understand," I said hotly, ignoring his imploring eyes. "What don't I understand?"

Nick sighed and sat down on my couch. I could tell he was wondering why I had the junky, ratty thing. He didn't know that it used to be Papa Olaf's old couch, and I had spent many summers sitting with my grandfather on it. Nick didn't know, and I wasn't about to tell him.

Nick struggled to speak for a minute. He'd open his mouth, and then shut it quickly. I tried to wait patiently, but I was itching to push Nick out the door. I was through with this.

"I'm sorry I was avoiding you," Nick finally said, his eyes still fixed on mine. "I just didn't know what to do."

I didn't respond. There had to be more than that. I had accidentally allowed myself to voice my thoughts about us being more than friends, and he only comes over to apologize for avoiding me?

I rolled my eyes then asked, "That it?"

"No, I just…" Nick's voice faltered. He looked weakly at me, almost as if he was begging me to speak, to say something. I glared back defiantly. I wouldn't give him an outlet.

"If that's it, then I accept your apology," I told him scathingly, opening the front door again. This time he was leaving. "I'm glad we could have this heart to heart chat. Come by again, sometime."

Nick didn't move; he just stared at me, as if seeing me for the first time in his life. His eyes conveyed confusion, sadness, and friendship. In my head a ferocious battle was raging; I wanted Nick to leave me alone, but then again I didn't want us to part company.

"Why are you so angry?" Nick finally inquired, puzzlement in his voice. I snapped.

"Why am I so angry? Why the hell do you think I'm angry?" I snarled, slamming the door shut. Nick's face was completely blank.

"Greg, I..."

"You don't have to say it," I exclaimed, almost as if I was in physical pain. "I know you don't feel the same way I do. I get it. I'm sure you're missing a date with Rachelle to be here, so you should go call her up."

I flung the door open again, breathing hard. My head was aching, my eyes felt as if a million pins were sticking into them.

Nick stood slowly and walked towards me, a strange look on his face. He stopped almost an inch away from me and I could recall other times where we had stood this close. Those times I felt as if I would never be able to breathe again.

Nick raised his hand to my face and I cringed, thinking he was going to strike me. Instead, he cupped his hand under my chin and raised it, making me look into his over bright eyes.

He pressed his lips to mine in a kiss full of deeply suppressed passion. It seemed as if in an instant it was over, or was it a full lifetime? He pulled back, a smile playing across his mouth. I couldn't even move; I felt as if I had been paralyzed. Could this really be happening?

"Greg… you're amazing. I'm sorry it took so long for me to realize that," the Texan whispered huskily.

"It's okay," I murmured and, without realizing I had regained control of my limbs, I put one hand behind his neck and one behind his waist, bringing him close. I felt my lips softly press up against Nick's, sweetly and tenderly.

Yeah, we're going to have moments where we wish we could have just died, but there are also the moments that we will always smile about till the day we die. I knew, as I stood with my arms wrapped around Nick, I would always remember this day.

Take that, Rachelle. You'll always remember getting stood up, while I'll always remember having someone stand beside me.