His Identity

34

|Aveline's POV|

I woke up in an unfamiliar place.

This is not my room. Where the hell am—

My panic and thoughts are cut short when I remember what happened the night prior.

Amelie. Her telling me to stay away from Nick. Then me being followed by some men. The club. The fight. Nick in a ring. Him dropping me home. And then I fixed his wounds. After that . . .

The kiss.

The most amazing kiss of my life. I've never been kissed like that. I absolutely adored every second of it. I didn't want it to end, nobody in their right minds would have.

I shudder as I remember what happened after that blissful moment. I had gone to my room.

I wished I hadn't because my room— my sanctuary, had been torn apart. Literally. Completely. Every single thing was ruined.

My books. My shelf. My lights. My posters. My bed. My pillows. My window. All of it. Gone. Just like that.

It felt surreal watching it like that. But Nick was there. Of course he was, somehow he always is. He was there for me. I've never been more grateful to him for that.

He said he'd fix it. I didn't even ask how or what. I was too busy thinking about what happened. But I knew Nick would do it if he said he would. He'd fix it. He'd find out who did it and he'll deal with it. I know he would and I don't know whether that relieves me or scares me because you never know with that guy.

Back to the main problem. Who could have done something like that?

Were they looking for something? No, they couldn't have been. The way my room was thrashed was clear that they had meant to do it on purpose, they weren't looking for shit. They wanted to fuck with me.

I have a feeling I know who it is.

Dread fills me. I shake my head and take a deep breath.

No. It can't be. I'm overthinking.

I look around to distract myself. There's no doubt as to where I am. The room is screaming one person and one person only. Nick.

This is his room. Every single detail about this place is him.

The walls are painted a deep shade of grey and the curtains are black. There is a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall across from the bed and a black leather armchair in the corner. The room is immaculate with no clutter or personal items visible which is not surprising.

The luxurious feel of the room matches Nick's personality perfectly— clean, modern, and elegant.

"You're awake." A voice at the doorway makes me jump. I turn my head at the sound to find Nick standing there, leaning against the door with a cup of I don't know what in his hands.

He lifts it to his lips and takes a sip, my eyes following the action closely. Get a grip, Aveline. You just woke up.

"Good morning," I manage to say, adverting my eyes. I hate this. I'm acting like a horny teenager, it's embarrassing.