Just One Summer // Varchie

III

Nick looks almost the same as when I last saw him six months ago. The only difference is that his dark, beautiful hair is a little longer now, and his skin has a soft tan. He stands by the window in one of Tomoko's guest rooms, the moonlight casting a silver glow on his perfectly sculpted cheekbones.

After our unexpected encounter in the hallway, Nick led me into the first empty room we could find, saying we needed to talk. But since stepping inside, he hasn't uttered a single word. I stand there, waiting for him to say something—anything—to break the drowning silence that's making me increasingly uneasy.

"Where were you?" I finally ask, unable to bear the quiet any longer.

"I missed you," he says at the same time.

His words catch me off guard. Nick was never the "missing you" type. He was the guy who moved effortlessly from one girl to the next. Yet, despite knowing this, my heart still skips a beat.I shake my head, refusing to let his words cloud my thoughts. "If you missed me, you would have returned my calls. Or at least answered one of the many messages I sent you, which you didn't," I retort, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I wanted to call you, but I didn't know what to say," Nick replies, his tone maddeningly casual.

"You didn't know what to say?" I scoff. "How about, 'Hey Veronica, sorry for hooking up with you for months behind my girlfriend's back, and then vanishing into thin air'? Or, 'Veronica, I'm so sorry that as soon as we got caught I pretended you didn't exist!'" I don't bother to hide my anger. All the hurt I've been burying since New Year's Eve comes rushing to the surface.

"It wasn't like that," Nick says, turning away from the window to look at me.

I give him an incredulous look. "Really? Because it sure seemed like it to me," I yell, my voice rising with each word. "I went behind Nancy's back for months because of you! She hates me now, and for what? So you could just use me and then leave me behind like I was nothing?"

I can feel the tears welling up, but I blink them back. I've already spent months crying over Nick—not that I'd ever admit it to anyone, especially not him. Veronica Lodge doesn't get her heart broken, especially not by private school douchebags.

"You're not nothing to me, Veronica. I care about you," Nick says, stepping closer. "I risked a lot by sneaking around with you too. Nancy was my best friend before she was my girlfriend, and my dad wanted me to stay with her forever for the sake of his company." He inches closer until our chests are almost touching. "When Nancy found us together that night, I panicked. She knew things about me that no one else did, and she said she was going to tell my dad everything. And she did. Next thing I know, my dad is shipping me off to Florence."

By the time he finishes talking, Nick is standing so close that I can smell his cologne—Tom Ford's Tabacco Vanille, the same scent that used to make my head spin. And now, with him this close, I feel that same dizziness, that same overwhelming desire for him to wrap me in his arms like he used to.

I shake my head and turn away from him, trying to create some distance. I can't think clearly when he's this close. "Y-you could have still called," I say, hating how small and pitiful my voice sounds. "It was so hard losing both you and Nancy at the same time," I add, instantly regretting it.

I've never admitted to anyone how much guilt I felt for cheating with Nancy's boyfriend. When she called me a slut in front of our entire AP Physics class, I'd just shrugged it off with a cool smile, hiding the hurt and embarrassment. Things got worse when Nick disappeared without a word. I knew I'd been played, but I didn't want to believe it. It's always been the other way around—I'm the one in control. Trying to act like I didn't care that Nick was gone became harder when everyone whispered about how easy and stupid I was.

Now, standing here in the dark, admitting it to Nick feels like a mistake. Deep down, I know he's only saying what I want to hear. He doesn't care about me as much as he claims. Every excuse he's given for not reaching out isn't enough. He didn't call because he didn't want to—because he probably found a beautiful Italian girl to play with instead.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't hear Nick walk up behind me. He moves my hair to the side and presses a soft kiss against my neck.

"I know I should have called," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "But there wasn't a day that passed that I didn't think of you," he lies, pressing another kiss to my neck.

I know I should push him away, but I don't.

I know he's lying, but the lies sound so sweet coming from his lips.

I know he broke my heart once, and he'll do it all over again.

I know there are other girls he's said these same words to.

But right now, the feel of his lips on my skin is so intoxicating that I push out all my rational thoughts and focus on the way Nick is making my heart race, and how good it feels to be back in his arms.

a/n: I please don't forget to vote, comment, and share this story with your friends xoxo