Spoilsport (Part 2)

Nick's POV

I opened the door to her flat. Her flat being Carla Connor's, businesswoman of the year and my girlfriend. Yes, my girlfriend. In some crazy turn of events, I had been the one to save Carla from destruction and in return, she loved me. And I loved her. So much that, by the end of my shift, I was running to get home. Home is wherever she is.

Everyday I was spending time with her in her flat, which never bothered me because I was having to share my apartment with Sarah and Bethany, my sister and niece, at the moment and, being I could trust them, I was happy to leave them alone there.

I could hear the faint sound of music playing on the radio from the kitchen, and the smell of food being cooked, instantly filling my senses. Even working in a restaurant from nine to five, the smell of fine food make me hungry. I closed the door behind me slowly, trying not to make a noise. I took my shoes off and placed my work bag on top of them before walking slowly towards where Carla was.

What a lot of people didn't know about Carla: when work was done for the day, she was done. All phones and computers were turned off. At first, it made me think the worst when she wouldn't answer but now, it was the norm. She changed into something comfortable (although she would argue heels were suitable footwear), her hair would be pulled away from her face into a ponytail and face mask was on. She says it's because she has no natural beauty but I beg to differ.

I stood in the doorframe as I watched her tempt to cook, it wasn't her strong point. She looked relaxed, stirring the contents in a saucepan, gently swaying to the music and humming along to the tune.

I was surprised to see her, really. She had been so busy with Underworld the past couple of days with Aidan and Johnny, I hadn't expected to see her. She hadn't been getting in past eight lately between meetings and business dinners with them.

She was beautiful. I could watch her for hours.

I removed my blazer before laying it across the sofa and walking up behind her. She was so engrossed at the task in hand, I don't think she even realised I was there.

"I wasn't expecting to see you," I smiled, resting a hand on her hip before placing a kiss on her hair.

"Aidan and Johnny have some business to sort out with Kate, I didn't need to be there," she said. "I've left them to it."

"Fair enough," I replied, trying to get a look at what she was making.

"Hm, after dinner the other night, I don't need to sit through their bickering again, thank you," she pushed her lips.

I snickered before pulling her towards my body. I had listened to some of it behind the bar before I was called by my staff.

"Nick," she said sternly, hinting that I should leave her alone but I was going to do no such thing. I placed my lips against her temple before moving down to her cheek. She sighed, relaxing in my arms.

"I heard what you said, you know… about the other half," I whispered into her neck before placing a trail of kisses along the skin there.

She stopped stirring to turn and look at me, confused. "Other half, what are you—oh,"

Carla's face dropped then she nodded slowly. "Yeah," she licked her bottom lip before taking it between her teeth. "I don't think Johnny caught on."

"So you didn't tell them about our plans involving the factory and Halloween, no?"

As much as we avoided talking about our work when we were together, Carla couldn't help but tell me she and Aidan were discussing a Christmas line coming into the factory soon. It was only October. I pitched the likelihood of a Halloween range before the festive season. She said Underworld had never done one before, and she didn't see the point, until I said three words: horny red devil. It sparked a fire in her and I've been ordered to meet her in the factory after work on the thirty-first.

"Of course not,"

"But I thought the dinner was to talk about the business?" I kissed behind the shell of her ear and shivered in my arms, her grip on her wooden spoon tightened.

"Hm, yeah," she coughed. "Underworld's, not our business."

"Hm, good…," I nuzzled my nose into her hair. It still smelt like strawberries. I remembered it clearly. "You didn't tell them about the shower this morning, then?"

She closed her eyes and threw her head against my shoulder before shaking her head no.

"Or decorating the flat?"

We had already tired once and failed. Carla flicked paint on my arm and that was it. We were like a pair of teenagers and a fight erupted. It ended when I took Carla against the wall. There was paint everywhere and it took Carla ages to get it out of her hair. The second time, we didn't even get that far.

"Coffee table?"

Carla gasped when my lips brushed her jawline. I should have known better at my age than to think a coffee table was a suitable place to have sex. But she didn't stop me. We agreed to go Ikea—I wasn't made of enough money to go to Harrods like she tried to temp me. We had an hilarious afternoon, I had never seen someone so excited to shop for furniture. She pointed out purchases we should make if we got our own place together. Making future plans excited me. Not to mention she was an utter tease. Carla Connor had a dark side, mysteriously seductive. I can't believe I never noticed it after all the years I had known her, I worked with her at one point as well. It was that side that had me losing control once we had put the table up. I didn't hear her complain and now it's just a distant memory I'm reminded of every time I place my drink down on a placemat on said table.

"What about the wine stain?"

Ah, the night at the bistro when Carla and I said we loved each other. Carla leaned other to kiss me but knocked over my glass of wine in the process. The beverage left a stain down my white, crisp shirt. Instead of begging for my forgiveness, Carla removed it from my body, much to my surprise - it was one way to solve the problem - and apologised in her own way. Think chair, straddling, and nearly falling back and cracking my head open. Yes, this woman will be the death of me.

I heard her curse under her breath. She was as turned on as me. I smirked against her jaw before pushing my arousal against her backside. She dropped the spoon and held onto the kitchen counter, it was warm from the oven below and did nothing to help the heat radiating through her already hot body. I put my hands under the bottom of her top and started pushing it upwards.

"No, Nicholas, I didn't tell them anything." she whispered before snapping at me. She pushed my hands away from her body, ran a hand through her hair to compose herself before returning to her cooking. "Nick! Do you mind? I'm trying to cook us something here!"

"Trying being the optimistic word," I chuckled from behind her still. I put my hand in my trouser pocket to adjust myself slightly. "I don't want you burning down the kitchen, Ms Connor,"

Carla held her breath but she tried not to let it show in body language. The fire still haunted her. She lived on takeout or microwavable meals - a skill she had mastered for her University days - for months after it happened. Anything in her house that could cause a fire, she avoided using in her own space. She got up earlier to go to Michelle's to straighten her hair, she wouldn't chance it in the flat.

Every home as its own smell and hers stopped having its own. She never ran the risk of lighting a scented Yankee Candle incase it fell over. That date night we had after closing at the bistro, I surprised her with her favourite, Soft Blanket—she said it gave her a form of comfort—and, instead of worrying about it, she relaxed because she was in my presence and I was going to protect her, she knew it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered in her ear, fighting my hold on her, circling both my arms round her waist again. I changed the mood around us for a split second so I could comfort her. I kissed her forehead.

"I wanted to do something nice for us, normal…," she said softly. Normal was hard for Carla, she wasn't used to it. It was foreign to her since the fire. Nothing was normal. She used alcohol and gambling to feel some form of normal. Having Nick and Michelle's support was the only normal her life had been since the accident.

"And I appreciate it. But I can think of something better to do," I removed the cooking utensils from her hands and turned the oven and gas off.

"Nick, we can't," she sighed, not willing to give into me.

"Yes, we can," I said, pulling on her arm so she faced me.

"What about dinner?" she questioned. Her hands find their way to my tie, she toyed with the silk.

"We'll order takeout."

"Indian?" she asked hopefully.

I pursed my lips, puling her closer to me. "If that's what you want."

"I wanted to cook for you," she mused. Her hands found their way under my collar and she started pulling tie out from it's knot. When it was undone, she flicked my top button open.

"And I wanted you to come back to bed this morning, looks like we're both losing today."

"But I was going to be late this morning, I don't see the problem," she reminded me. And Carla Connor was always on time. She had already been in trouble with Aidan for unpunctuality. It was breakfast in the cafe, nothing bad. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day.

"Hm, and I don't see a problem with a later dinner," I reasoned. She crossed her arms over her chest before pointing over her shoulder.

"But I got us a really nice dessert."

I looked over her shoulder. It was a trifle. Tempting but… "I've got dessert right here—"

"Nicholas!" she slapped my hands away from her top again.

"C'mon, babe, don't be a spoilsport," I tilted my head.

"Don't use my words against me!" she gasped, smacking my chest. She knew what I was getting at, she was just dressing me, does she think I hadn't noticed? "Alright, Tilisey, you're on!"

She ran away quicker than I could register it. Her ponytail hit me in the face before she darted for the bedroom and I just managed to smack her bum lightly. She giggled so innocently. How her behaviour could change within seconds would never not amaze me. She truly was a mysterious woman. Who allowed herself to fall in love with me.

I made sure everything was turned off before meeting her in the bedroom.

Later, eating Indian, Carla was in one of my work shirts—she exact one she had torn away from me just an hour ago. Leaving the top three buttons undone, she looked incredible, I couldn't say it enough times. I had changed into a t-shirt and jeans to answer the door when the deliveryman rang the intercom.

We were sat on the couch, each of us leaning up against an arm with a blanket draped over us - one to take the chill off; two because Carla didn't want curry stains on her new sofa. Carla had her legs resting over my lap and her hair was back up in a bun. It was rare she had her hair in any way other than down. It reminded me of when I brought her dessert back from the bistro—to celebrate her changing her name—and she invited me in. She was okay with me seeing her in her night face mask, wearing a dressing gown and, to no surprise, a glass of wine in her hand. We talked about our disastrous love lives, watching rubbish reality TV before she fell asleep. I hadn't noticed, I was transfixed how anyone could think TOWIE wasn't scripted when it was painfully obvious. I knew from that moment I put a blanket over her before I left that I was going to fall in love with her. She wasn't a monster, far from it. I had learned from spending time with her that only a handful of people saw beyond the Ice Queen. I didn't understand how anyone would want that title. But she wore it, with pride for the most part. I admired it really, a woman that knows her own mind, doesn't take crap from anyone. It is admirable. But doesn't mean to say she has a heart because she does. A heart of gold in fact. Her friendship with Roy is creditable, she lights up with she sees him. Without knowing her family history, I think he's the father figure she never had.

I slapped myself for not seeing the amazing person Carla Connor was before but if she had invited me to "fix" her laptop, if I hadn't invited her to a wine tasting, a few drunken kisses later, we wouldn't be here. If Erica hadn't of miscarriage, my life would be completely different. Although I stick by what I said, it wouldn't have worked out. It was fling, simple as. I would have been there for my child without a doubt, I still want to be a Dad, it just wasn't the right time.

Coming back to reality, I removed my finished curry from my lap and placed my empty plate on the coffee table. Carla was carelessly munching on a popadom, it wouldn't surprise if she couldn't hear the television over her actions but it didn't stop her from giving the show her full attention.

I leaned back to my original position and ran my hand along her shin.

"I love you."

"Ay?" she said, snapping out of her transfix.

I chuckled. "I love you."

"Where's that come from?" she asked, surprised by sudden declare.

"Nowhere, I'm just letting you know."

She smiled big, biting her lip. "I love you, too, Nicky."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. Why did she have to do that. She knew I hated being called that. "Don't call me Nicky!"

"It's a name!" she giggled, leaning over, she pecked my cheek. "You're such a spoilsport.

I opened my arms for her. She discarded her snack before leaning into me and we watched TV in the position until sleep took over our bodies.

So I got asked about a Part 2 and I delivered! Don't think I could make a Part 3 unless these two have a scene that helps me. I found it a little bit harder being in Nick's mind but then, I don't think we see that much of his personality because his love story with Carla has been focused on her but I tried my best! I enjoyed the challenge. :)