Always & Forever (Nick & Bailey #2)

54. Bailey

"I'm sor—" He stops mid-word, and I feel him freeze against me. "Bailey?"

I don't look up, but I know what I would see. I'd see his big, hazel eyes with a concerned expression. His eyebrows will be creased together in confusion. His pink, full lips will he parted slightly as he tries to breathe deeply enough for his lungs to catch up with his mind.

I know this all. I know this like I just saw it yesterday. There is not a single detail of him that I have forgotten. 

So when my eyes finally do travel up his chest, button by button, and reach his face, I'm surprised to see that he has a faint scar on the right side of his chin and the dark circles under his eyes that never quite went away when we were younger are now almost completely gone.

I realize suddenly and completely. I haven't been the only one living my life.

"Hi," I whisper. I'm not sure if he hears me.

"Hey," he answers. "How...how are you?"

I nervously giggle at his question. That would be a loaded answer. He brings his hand to his forehead, embarrassed. "Wow that was lame."

"No. No it wasn't." My urge is to take his hand away so I can see his face, but I don't dare touch him. He moves it himself. "I'm...just surprised to see you."

He scoffs. "Yeah."

We stand there, facing each other. I want to look in his eyes, but I can't find the courage. So instead, I scan along his jaw—it looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days. And study his hands at his sides—fingers fidgeting and unable to keep still. And his ears, and his chin, and his neck, and his shoulders—just trying to prove to myself that he is really here.

We don't speak until a drunk girl stumbles into the wall next to us on her way to the bathroom. It knocks us both out of our trance.

"Do you want to get a drink?" Nick asks. He looks so timid, not meeting my eyes and biting his lip, that there is no way I could possibly say no.

"Yes."

My answer doesn't seem to relieve his tension, but he attempts a small smile and nods. I follow him to the bar.

"What would you like?" He asks as we sit down on a couple of bar stools.

I think about my stomach, which is still twisting and turning in all sorts of directions. "Just a ginger ale, please."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Really? You're not drinking on your birthday?"

"I was earlier. I'm getting too old, I guess." I smile at him. "I'm impressed you remembered so quickly." It has only been a minute or two since I ran into him.

"Actually, I thought about it earlier today." He raises his hand and waves the bartender over. He orders two ginger ales.

He'd thought about me today? Was it just because he remembered it was Ian's birthday? Or does he sometimes think of me randomly like I do with him? Or is that too much to ask for?

I find myself watching his movements—noticing the way he reaches into his back pocket to grab his wallet, or the way he holds the cash still folded up between his pointer and middle fingers while handing it to the bartender, or the way he makes sure to slide my glass over to me before sliding his toward himself.

When his eyes raise to mine, I quickly avert my gaze. After taking a sip and looking back at him, he snaps his head down very non-smoothly.

"Why are we so nervous?" I blurt out. "It's just...us."

He chuckles lightly. "I'm not sure actually. Maybe because it's been so long, or because I just don't know what to say."

Our eyes meet for the first time, and I can feel butterflies immediately. I can't tell what he's feeling though, so I look down at my drink.