the only proof that i need is you;

Really, she should have left for his house at midnight.

Liz had been up since then, anyway, thrumming with excitement as she tossed and turned in her bed, just counting down the hours until the grand plans she’d made weeks ago for Nick’s birthday could finally come to fruition. The whole day was planned down to the second and Liz hoped to God in heaven above that she wasn’t being too hasty. Would he even want any of this? He was always so quiet about his personal life. Hadn’t even told her his birthday was coming up in the first place—Liz had to find it out second-hand.

Sally was to blame for that, of course. Liz had been lounging about with her and Nick one day as she’d started to do after realizing that she and her handsome once-mystery-man had the impeccable knack of running into each other everywhere they went. Might as well just spend time with him on her own terms. Not to mention that Liz still had yet to unravel the mystery of how he’d known her name without Liz ever giving it to him. Or, you know, that weird nagging feeling she still sometimes got if she caught him watching her out of the corner of her eye.

But in any case, she’d glanced over Sally’s shoulder at her planner one day and had gestured to the starred July 2nd date. “What you got going on the second? I thought you’ve been prepping for the big masquerade bash Nick’s throwing for months now.” Liz had laughed as she set aside her book, but hadn’t quite been prepared for the nervous glance the brunette had sent the way of her boss’s study door. Nick had locked himself in as he wrestled with an extremely vexing bit of code, surrounding himself in the invisible bubble afforded to him by his intricate security system.

“Uh, well… It’s actually his birthday.” Sally replied with a weak smile. “He doesn’t like to celebrate it at all, but I still like to try and do something for him every year. It’s just sad; his mom doesn’t even call anymore.”

“Really? Not even his mom?” Liz had paused then, tapping her fingers against the countertop of the island where she and Nick had shared so many breakfasts since that first fateful morning a month or so ago. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again, hesitation caused by contained excitement evident in her voice. “Would… Would you mind if I took over for you this year?”

Had she not been staring intently at Nick’s door, Liz might have caught the small smile twisting itself into life upon Sally’s lips, and might have even begun to wonder if this had all been a set-up as Sally told her to knock herself out.

This all lead to Liz bolting out of bed at five-thirty A.M. feeling more awake than she had in years. She rushed through her morning routine, barely even waiting for her hair to dry in its usual beachy waves before shoving on a pair of shorts and slipping the boho top she’d picked out earlier over her head and rushing for the door. Lithe fingers grasped the box holding a single homemade cupcake that had been lying upon her counter since Liz had baked it the day before. She smiled down at the little confection, rolling her eyes as she remembered how shocked her friends had been that Liz had even made something like this at all.

“I don’t even know who this girl is.” Elaine had teased, gesturing to the surprisingly sober Liz as she pulled a cupcake pan out of the oven and turned around to stick her tongue out at her friend that had come over to help with all the baking fun. “I’m serious. I’ve never seen you like this. Gatsby’s got you wrapped around his finger, Liz.”

“Well, you remember how I was when I was…” Liz began, before the words got stuck in her throat. She coughed once, taking a breath as she smiled and continued on. “–when I was dating Ian. And, besides, Nick’s just a friend. Not to mention he’s a friend who apparently hasn’t celebrated his own birthday in years because no one ever really talks about it.” The blonde set down the piping bag she was filling with icing to look back up at Elaine with furrowed eyebrows and a hurt expression. “Did you know his own mother doesn’t even call him on his birthday? His personal assistant is the only one who’s ever done anything for him. And Sally told me that even that is never too much or else he gets moody.” Liz let out a little sigh and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “I don’t know, Lainey… It’s just… He’s been really kind to me when he didn’t have any reason to be. And I can’t stand to think of him alone, all locked up in that ivory tower of his, working all day on his birthday.”

Elaine raised an eyebrow as she too had that small knowing smile twist at her lips, Liz once again missing the knowing expression as she turned back to decorating the cupcakes before her. “Well, I’m sure the two of you will have an amazing date, Liz. You do always seem to plan the best ones.” The kitchen had become quite the disaster moments later as Liz looked up in shock and threw a handful of sprinkles at her best friend, screeching that she and Nick were not going on a date, before the two of them devolved into having a rather massive food fight.

Only this single cupcake that Liz held on her lap had remained intact from the carnage. Liz had frosted it with the utmost care, gently piping tiny rosettes all along the top and edges before pressing a single candle in the very center. “God, I hope he likes buttercream.” She sighed to herself as Liz leaned forward to tell her town car driver the code to open up the gates to Nick’s mansion. And that he’s too absorbed in a project to notice I’m here. The rational part of her mind amended.

After all, what good is a surprise if the one you’re surprising sees you coming a mile away?

“I’d wait in the garage area. We’ll need you in an hour or two once the boardwalk opens up.” Liz said as she exited the vehicle, smiling up at the large house in front of her and let out a small squeal of excitement. He has to have a good day today. He just has to. She thought to herself, dodging a few of the cameras Nick had mistakenly pointed out to her earlier. Liz had planned her route of attack about a week ago, and had done a dry run a few days ago. Nick hadn’t said anything, nor had her quick appraisal of his security feeds later that day turned up any video of her movements through the house, so Liz had high hopes that she’d be able to make it to the kitchen without incident.

Sidling up to the counter, Liz glanced about quickly, making sure she hadn’t missed any new cameras Nick had installed without her knowing. Nothing seemed out of place at least. So, quietly, Liz slunk to one of the cupboards and pulled out a plate she had hidden away a few days ago. She’d found it during one of her wanderings in Nick’s mansion that he still allowed her when the mood struck. Generally he’d go back to working, sometimes leaving Liz to wonder if he just casually kept on eye on her—making sure she’d stay out of trouble probably. But somehow he’d missed seeing her rifling through a random closet and turning up the beautiful set of fine china plates all inlaid with a scalloped edging of gold. Her fingers had run gently across the edges, smiling sadly to herself before wondering if these were the secret plates she had teased Nick about at their first meeting. It had felt like a sign of some sort, so Liz had secreted one of the dessert plates away to his cupboards.

And now it had the distinct honor of carrying what Liz was fairly sure would be Nick McLain’s first bite of real birthday cake in a very long time.

The girl held to plate very carefully in one hand, shielding the light from the burning birthday candle with the other as she made her way up the stairs to Nick’s study. Once outside the door, it was almost hard to contain herself. Liz could feel herself shaking with excitement, just hoping and pleading to all the gods in heaven above that he wouldn’t be angry with her for this. After all, no one should be alone on the one day of the year that has been set aside just for them.

Now or never… Liz thought to herself before taking a deep breath and beginning to sing as she nudged open the study door with her shoulder. “Happy birthday to you…” Her voice was quiet, a bit choked as Nick turned and looked at Liz standing there with complete shock in his eyes. “Happy birthday to you…” She continued, swallowing around the nervous lump in her throat as she walked a bit forward, lowering her hand so that the faint light of the candle spread throughout the darkened room. “Happy birthday, dear Nick…” Liz finally stopped next to Nick’s chair, gently setting the plate with the cupcake down in front of him. “Happy birthday to you.”

Rationally, he knew at some point he had once celebrated it. He had hazy memories of ponies and cake and, perhaps, several other screaming children. But that’s all they were. Memories. Nick’s parents had given up the celebration early on and Nick had never been eager to assume the mantle in their stead.

In fact, if Sally didn’t remind him every year, Nick probably wouldn’t even know July second was his birthday. He rarely remembered before she inevitably sprang some surprise on him. He always appreciated the effort but he would almost rather she leave well enough alone. Nick had long since given up hope that his birthday would even be remembered, let alone celebrated.

Birthdays were for people who had friends and family. People who loved them. While Nick had a few such acquaintances to his name, he was by very definition a loner. And loners didn’t have birthdays. At least, not ones they acknowledged.

Though, apparently not this year.

She had to be a mirage. A trick of the eyes. Maybe he’d fallen asleep. Or maybe he’d fixed the bugs in that hologram system after all and just forgotten. Any of those explanations seemed far more rational that what he was seeing right before his very eyes.

Liz Kane. With a cupcake. Singing him happy birthday.

It sounded more like the solution to a game of Clue than an actual event that was being played out before his very eyes. Maybe that’s what it was after all. Some very strange game of Clue he was now dreaming.

But she touched him. She touched his shoulder and commanded him to blow out the candle. That he would obviously do. Candles were fire hazards. But while he resigned himself to making this small allowance, the world between making the decision and actually carrying it out seemed too great.

Nick was frozen in place, one question still plaguing him. Before he could stop it, it popped out his mouth.

“How did you get past my security system?”

Not ‘how did you know it was my brithday’ or ‘what do you mean I won’t be working today’ or, even better, ‘why have you brought me a flaming tiny cake?’ Obviously the real concern was how she’d made it past his ultra-high-tech security system. If this got out, he’d be out of business.

He knew he shouldn’t have shown her what the cameras looked like. Or where he’d hidden them. Or told her how they alerted him to movement in his house. This was his fault, if anyone’s. But when she talked and laughed and smiled at him, he forgot his secrets.

Or, rather, he forgot the key ingredient: keeping them secret.

Not that it mattered. Deep down, Nick didn’t want to keep secrets from her. He’d lay them all bare right now if he had the time. Although it had been only a month since that breakfast that had already changed his life, Nick could already feel himself changing. He’d begun to do something he hadn’t allowed himself in a very long time: hope.

And, unconsciously, he’d already begun to mold his life to fit hers. He knew it was dangerous. He knew he was moving too fast, too soon. Even if had hadn’t yet shared these plans with her, hadn’t yet scared her off, he knew he was already sailing in dangerous waters.

Because people leave. And it was best to always prepare yourself for that.

Nick knew this. It was the number one rule he’d always taught himself. Treat your friends well, for they are your family. But always treat yourself best, for you will never leave you. He’d tried to live by this mantra. But for each time he tried, he failed.

Perhaps this is why Nick chose only to surround himself with the most loyal people. Those he considered his closest relations were those who had already proved their loyalty. Colin, Sally, Ward, Ian. If his world ended, these would be the people standing beside him.

And maybe Liz. Maybe.

The waters between them were still shaking at best. They were both still mapping uncharted territory. Nick knew their history but he still wasn’t sure if Liz did. When he’d called her by name on that morning a month ago, she’d frozen for a moment. He’d watched and considered. But she hadn’t said anything.

She’d never given her name but he knew it all the same.

And she’d never asked how he’d known. But that conversation was coming. Of this, he was sure. And that’s when Nick would have to tell her what he already dreaded. He’d have to tell her who he is. Who he was. Who they were together. And then he’d watch her running, screaming. Never to return.

He put up walls because he knew no one would cross them. People usually wanted from him whatever he would give them. And when he gave it, they were gone. He hoped Liz would be different. But he’d also learned not to hope.

She’d already become a presence in his life. And he could already feel himself getting used to it. Every day, he hoped to see her. When she showed up, he wanted nothing more than to spend his day talking to her, looking at her, watching her.

Instead, he locked himself in his study and worked.

Nick McLain didn’t have friends. He had a few select family members. And a fan club that cheered his name each Saturday night, lifting their glasses in celebration as he supplied them with all the booze they could drink.

But friends? Of all the things money could ever buy. Real, true lasting friendship was not one of them.

So as Liz Kane set a cupcake before him, on the china he’d bought for his mother, and demanded he blow out the candle, Nick suddenly wondered if, for the first time in his life, he actually had a friend.

“No, no, no, no, no!”  Of all the things one’s cook could yell, this was possibly one of most alarming, which was why it wasn’t surprising when the fire alarm went off and a defeated Sally emerged from the kitchen amidst a cloud of smoke.

“I really fried the stir-fry this time,” said Sally after a pregnant pause, waving her spatula about in an effort to clear the smoke from the room.  “I, uhhhh,” her grin became rueful as she leaned in the doorway.  “I think maybe it’s time to take advantage of those standing reservations you have.”

It had been a long day for both Sally and Nick, Sally would wager, but she thought maybe he hid it better than she did.  As always, he looked vibrant and put-together in an array of color.  Sally was a bit more conservatively dressed (though also rather colorful) in one of her mother’s cardigans from the 80s and an a-line skirt.  Still, somehow the old sweater - while fine when all one was doing was answering phones and emails - didn’t seem the thing to wear out.

Unfortunately, their systems, and the problems they encountered, typically required the most work. Thus, Nick’s had all but devoted his entire life to designing unique systems for them and personally working out each and every one of their problems. Which didn’t leave a lot of time to remembering to do basic things like eat and sleep. In all honestly, Nick might never do either if Sally didn’t remind him each and every day.

Which is why Nick hadn’t noticed the smoke or the rumble of his stomach until Sally appeared, a spatula in hand. And why Nick met her with a raised eyebrow, his eyes darting to the time and noting his hunger had probably started hours ago, he just hadn’t noticed.

“You mean stir-fry isn’t meant to be crisp? I thought that’s the way you always served it.” His eyes twinkled as he sat back, pulling himself from the system he’d been immersed in for-- his eyes darted back to the clock in the lower corner of his computer screen --eighteen hours. Well, perhaps it was time for a break after all.

Pulling himself out of his chair, NIck crossed the room in a few strides, grabbing Sally by the shoulders and spinning her around. “Perhaps you’re right. We deserve a night out. You pick the restaurant, I’ll pick up the bill.”

Saying this was merely a formality. Nick had never not picked up the bill where Sally was concerned. Dining with her was one of his favorite parts of each day. He really and truly enjoyed her company. She took care of him, of that he would always be grateful, but at this point, she was more like family.

Which is why he glanced down as she mentioned changing, his brow knit as he shifted his direction to his own crumpled shirt and faded turquoise jeans. Not his usual clothing concoction but good enough to wear to 'work’. “Of course,” he said absently, “help yourself. Maybe I should change too.”

He released her shoulders then, turning to give her a smile as he headed off toward his bedroom. “We’ll both dress up. Make it a real night out. I’ll meet you in the foyer in fifteen minutes.”

With that, he turned and started down the hall. But, after a few moments, when he’d registered the rest of her comment, he whirled on the spot, walking backwards down the hall as he added, “And Sally. You never embarrass me. Really.”

Short-staffed. Again.

Kara’s promotion to manager had had its perks (well, really just the one: better pay), but sometimes she wondered if it was worth it. Her boss was always hiring incompetent and unreliable employees (proof of this was that when the manager position opened up, Kara was the best candidate if they were to promote from within). She was lucky if half the scheduled staff showed up. Unless of course, she scheduled double what she needed and then they all would.

It’s like they were conspiring against her.

Maybe they were.

Anyway, today she’d been playing manager, waitress, busboy, and cashier. They’d somehow managed to weather the rush and Kara felt she could breath again. There were only one or two customers who were there now and Kara was happy to go slower for a change.

Kara let the other waitress take her lunch, and went to wait on their latest customer herself. She opened her mouth to introduce herself, but he beat her to the punch.

“Really?!” She asked, surprised, “Wow, sorry, it probably doesn’t invoke a lot of confidence when I seem amazed that anyone would recommend me, it’s just … “ Well, the truth was that she was surprised that anyone would recommend her. Kara would be the first to tell you that while she had been doing this a long, long time, she was hardly an exceptional waitress. "Sorry, starting over,” She said, waving her hand, “Yes, I am! Welcome to Cabana’s Seaside Bar and Grill. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

She tried to keep a straight face, but all she could think about is how awkward she’d managed to be, and she had to laugh at herself, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. You are probably going to think twice about taking recommendations in the future, aren’t you?”

This already felt like a disaster. And it would only get worse.

Nick laughed lightly, already seeing what Sally undoubtedly saw in this girl. In fact, she reminded him a lot of Sally. And if she was half as good as Sally, Nick knew he was now in wonderful hands.

He leaned forward, his chin resting on his clasped hands as he surveyed her. “Don’t worry. I unwaveringly trust the person who recommended you. I hold her opinion higher than all others. You must be doing something right, if she’d request you.”

Leaning back, he smiled, glancing toward the menu before picking it up and holding it out to her. “Actually, I’ll just order now if that’s easier? I’ll have iced tea to drink, unsweetened.”

He considered a moment before adding, “Whatever you recommend to eat. If you eat here often, whatever you would normally order. If not, whatever you believe is best. I’m not all that picky. I’m sure I’ll enjoy whatever you bring.”

And with a smile he leaned back and truly began to enjoy himself. He already felt far more relaxed than if he’d stayed home. At home, he’d be tempted to work. He’d have brought his laptop to the table and sat, working out details for his latest client while Sally reminded him that his food wouldn’t finish itself.

It was nice not to think about work for a change. Though the feeling, he was sure, wouldn’t last long. In fact, he’d attempted to smuggle his laptop out inside his blazer. Sally had, sadly, caught him.

Colin laughed, “Hey, you know that white crayon stays new and perfect forever, while the other crayons turn into gross nubs and get stuck between the couch cushions, so things could be worse. You could be an egg and get cracked and scrambled.”

Colin had to crack a grin when Nick just casually offered to put a pool in at his house. Nick was always trying to buy Colin things and while he appreciated the gestures, they were often way over the top and things he couldn’t accept. He’d learned that Nick rarely took no for an answer, though, and that he’d have to somehow convince him that he didn’t want a pool, or else there would probably be a construction crew at his house on Monday.

“Nah, that’s not really the problem. I don’t tan. At all. I’m either an egg or a piece of overcooked bacon. There is no in between.”

He clinked glasses with Nick and swallowed down the rest of his drink, “It’s really good. Pineapple and cranberry? I’m gonna have to make these sometime for Chase.” He’d make one for Bobby, too, but he doubted Bobby would try anything with “Breeze” or “Bay” or frankly “Malibu” in the title. Certainly not anything with a garnish. Hey, his loss.

“So, what’s up with you, Nick? Sorry, I missed your party last night.” He tried to make as many of them as he could, but for the most part, they were overwhelming and 9/10 he ended up in the pool or getting someone’s drink spilled on him or both. He liked to go for Nick, but those things just weren’t his speed.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to comfort me? My friends will all die while I’m left to live in the box forever? I don’t even get out once in a while? Not even for good behavior? That’s worse than prison.” He sighed, as he tipped his sunglasses to see Colin over the top of them. “At least eggs die for a worthy cause. They provide nutrients and keep the species alive. What does a white crayon do? It doesn’t even provide entertainment for a child.”

With a small laugh, Nick replaced his sunglasses and leaned back to soak up the sun. Although he jested otherwise, Nick didn’t mind resembling a white pastry. Though he didn’t mind tanning either. As long as Colin was around, Nick was content to do whatever he wanted. He owed him that much at least.

The pool was a nice start but there would always be more to give Colin. Nick would never stop being grateful to Colin for sticking with him all these years. And as long as his success continued, he would never stop showing said gratitude. If only Colin were more willing to accept it.

“Maybe your skin hasn’t had enough practice. I’ve heard the more you try to tan, the better your chances at being successful? In any case, you could use a pool. The beach is probably always crowded and sometimes you need to tan alone. And then you can have pool parties. Or pool side barbecues. As long as you invite me once in a while, we’ll call it even.”

Nick mentally made note to call his pool guy when he went inside. Or remind Sally. In fact, he could text her right now. He grabbed his iPhone from the table between them and shot Sally a quick text. When he’d finished, the dropped his back onto the table.

“They’re fun, aren’t they? Sally bought a new bartending book and she’s enjoying testing the new concoctions. Unfortunately, Stephen, Ren and I are the only candidates here to test them. Some days I think we all slosh from putting away so much alcohol.” He laughed a little before adding, “But they’ll be great for parties. I’ll have her give you the recipe. I think she said they’re pretty easy?”

He shrugged as he passed on this information. That wasn’t really his area of expertise. It wasn’t even really Sally’s. Nick hired a bartender for his parties but Sally liked to help out where she could. He often reminded her that she wasn’t required to work at his parties but some nights he still had to drag her away from the bar and order her to enjoy herself. After a few years, these occurrances were becoming less frequent but sometimes she did still relapse.

Not that Nick minded. If anyone had ever had complete job security, it was Sally Bowers.

At Colin’s mention of his party, Nick waved him off. “Not to worry. I don’t expect you every time. Come whenever you need to. Whenever you need to let loose and enjoy yourself, my party will always be here. But if you can’t make it, don’t worry. After all, I never make it either.”

He grinned then at his own vague joke. Nick did, in fact, attend all his parties. He just never stayed with the action. That was more for people like Lex Porter or Ward Eastwood. He appreciated Colin’s efforts to come but also understood that they weren’t really Colin’s scene. After all, Nick didn’t exactly throw his parties for his friends. They were show pieces.

It was unnerving, and in a very odd yet painful way also a bit of a relief.

She’d played so long at living, at being a real person instead of a ghost that had possessed the body of some unfortunate socialite girl. Mimicking the things she knew they expected from her—feeding herself vodka and wine and gin to keep the haze around her mind so that no one would be able to clearly look at her and realize the fraud they’d all put on a pedestal. Maybe for a few years she had been blessed with being one of them, being real, being human… (Starburst images of Ian’s face flashed before her eyes, haunting her with his smile.) But as Nick had so easily seen, her humanity had been nothing more than a  dream, too easily replaced by another more human, more kind than she could ever begin to be.

“It’s fine.” Liz said quietly (almost timidly) after a moment, still clutching her curled hands to her chest, head bowed ever so slightly so that her long blonde hair fell in curtains around her face, hiding those eyes he’d so easily read. “It’s just… It still hurts to think about.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, once more trying to fade back into the façade of a girl she had been playing all of her life.

Liz was thankful then for how Nick so easily backed away. How quickly he moved on to something else, leaving her to lick at the wounds he had unintentionally torn wide open in quiet dignity and peace. She lifted her head slightly as he teased her, a small smile playing across her own lips. “The great Nick McLain was once of the plebeians? Be still my heart. Half this city would disown you in a second if they knew.” She teased back, voice still somewhat heavy with contained emotion. “Of course, they’d come crawling back in a heartbeat once they realized those with the real money and power don’t care as long as you still can run with the big guys. Then again, I suppose I’d be happy to see your house parties a little less packed. Easier to spot someone you’re looking for in a smaller crowd.” Liz glanced over at Nick then, almost curiously before turning her gaze back to the food he was cooking and her hands that she had let fall to lay gently cupping each other in her lap.

It had been a blessing that Liz had never seen Ian here. Perhaps that was part of why this house had felt like an oasis for her life. Nothing here was tainted with a memory of Ian Porter and everything he’d meant to her. Him who she first gave her heart without reservation. Him who she would have died for if he asked it.

Part of her wondered why she had stayed here in this town where every damn street corner held a memory of the few years of her life when Liz had actually felt happy. She could have gone anywhere. Mother hated that she even stayed at the beach house—said that if her Father had ever really cared he would have kept them all together instead of running off with his floozy of a mistress—so she would have gladly sent Liz off anywhere else in the world. (Not to mention that Liz was certain her mother would have been relieved to not have to burden herself with actually acknowledging her party-mad daughter even breathed the same air she did.)

But here in this modern-day citadel, there was peace. She could sit in the dark and silence, head pleasantly fuzzy and revel in the utter quiet. Of course, there had also been nights where she had curled herself into a corner, wracked with memories she couldn’t push away as they washed over her in waves, cursing her with the pain of remembering every brilliant happy moment she’d had with Ian. Liz had sobbed for hours one night—the anniversary of the first time she’d told Ian she loved him and he’d said nothing in return. She still distinctly remembered wrapping her arms around a throw pillow and burying her face into its softness, hoping to muffle her cries from anyone else who may have taken to wandering the premises. Later Liz had blamed the emotional turmoil on a bit more tequila than even she was used to having, but she knew the truth. She’d thought she’d seen him with an arm wrapped around some other girl. Thought she had heard the lilt of his voice, smelled the scent of his cologne drifting on the breeze.

It had all been too much.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past you to be housing a little fairy child somewhere around here.” Liz replied with her own slight chuckle, forcibly pulling herself back to the present. “From one person with secrets to another, I know how they start to pile up.” Another quiet truth… He was dangerous, this one. The corners of Liz’s mouth twitched down a little again, almost angry at herself for being so cavalier. “I mean, from what I understand, once you collect one secret, they seem to follow you wherever you go, latching on with their claws and never letting go.” She raised an eyebrow once and let out another laugh. “Then again, I’m glad I’ve at least been given the full clearance to tear this place apart in order to discover your darkest secrets. I can’t imagine what the world would give to finally learn the truth about the great and mysterious Oz—Oh, I mean, McLain, pardon me.” Liz winked and leaned gently forward, watching Nick as he retreated into himself for a moment as he cooked. She knew the look of it. Knew sometimes it was best to leave things to themselves.

Yet when he spoke again, Liz paused in her movement from her chair and around the island. Her hand rested gently against the counter top, blue eyes curiously roving over the tall blonde man in front of her. Perhaps for the first time noticing that he too seemed to be carrying a burden that was just as heavy as her own. “I don’t think either of our skeletons would get along well anyway.” She said quietly as she continued on her journey towards the cupboards and absently pressed that auspicious kiss against his cheek.

Sometimes Liz wondered if there was such a thing as Fate. Like those red strings that some people said tied soulmates together, pulling them towards each other until they finally found one another for good. Had she realized what she had started by brushing her lips against Nick McLain’s cheek, Liz Kane might have told you yes—that fate or destiny or something in the stars had pushed her forward.

Now if only she could figure out why in the world she felt like she’d done all of this before…

Her mind was still reeling from the rush of jumbled fragments of memories when she felt Nick’s hand wrap around her own, stilling her as she stepped away to try and pull herself back together. Her head swiveled to catch his gaze and found herself trapped by his stare. It was like he was begging something of her; she could see it in his eyes. There was something roiling inside of him just like it was in her but for some reason he was looking at her with a far-off longing that Liz knew all too well.

After all, she still looked at Ian like that…

Soon enough, though, he squeezed her fingers gently and released her, both of them turning from each other as the moment faded away, laying the unresolved connection they’d shared between them. It left Liz feeling a little shaken and more than a bit vulnerable if she were to tell the truth. Her mind was reeling, pouring over every second of her life since she’d come to VA Beach, wondering why he felt so familiar so fast and even more so: why the hell had he looked at her like that?

“Oh, well, I happen to be a thief of the highest caliber.” Liz finally replied as her brain registered that Nick was still talking to her. She gave him another wide smile over her shoulder, trying to make sense of the jumble in his fridge. She’d found the syrup, but everything else was a mystery. “A gentlewoman thief, if you will. Only steal from the rich, and generally let them know somewhat in advance of what they can expect to be taken. Example A: by the time I found your wine cellar, I’m sure you’d figured out I wasn’t above palming a bottle or two. Permission’s usually not my forte, but it seemed appropriate this time, since I’d be sitting next to you in a second with my prize in hand.” Another light laugh echoed from Liz’s throat, though it was quickly cut off as she felt the heat of Nick’s body coming to step behind her.

She stilled like a frightened deer, a distinct contrast to the casual way he’d placed his hand on the door handle just below her own so that their fingers barely brushed. Not to mention how his arm had looped about her waist like they’d done this a million times before. Almost instinctually, Liz stepped back slightly, her body nearly leaning into his own as she continued to search the contents of the fridge—or at least appeared to do so. Wouldn’t admit it to his face—gentlewoman thief or not—but at the moment she found herself much more interested in feeling the gentle wafting of his breath against the back of her neck and the temptation to rest her back against his strong chest. Just for the first time in quite a while to let someone else carry the weight of being Elizabeth Kane.

But like all moments, it was gone just as soon as it had begun. Nick moved away with the berries in hand, leaving Liz with a bright red flush over her face as she wondered if it’d be too inconspicuous to shove her face in the freezer at the moment. Instead the girl just took a deep breath and grabbed the whipped cream as well before turning back around to Nick with a sly smirk upon her lips and laughter in her eyes.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be the judge of that, Mister Nicholas McLain. After all, I’m the French Toast expert here.” She laughed a little and winked at the young man in front of her, following him back to sit back down in her chair with a pronounced plop as he set a plate before her. Liz set down the syrup on the counter, but held up the whipped cream can with a raised eyebrow, shaking it casually. “Of course, if anyone is having whipped cream on their French toast, one first must make sure it’s not poisoned.” She said with mock severity before spraying a liberal dose of the airy confection on her finger and popping it in her mouth, nonchalantly watching Nick the entire time. “Hmmm. I think we’ll be safe. Unless you want to make sure as well?” She asked, holding up another whipped cream-covered finger out to him with a raised eyebrow before grinning and licking her fingers clean once more. Okay, she’d gotten herself back. Pushed away the vulnerable girl of a few moments before and placed the ghost who ruled her life back in its rightful place, flirting with the billionaires and living a life free of worries.

This was something she could control much better than any boy who looked at her with the softness she’d seen in Nick’s eyes. “Now, you’ve talked a big game, Nick McLain. Are you a hundred percent sure your French toast will surpass all others that I’ve had in my life?” Liz continued as she sprayed a generous dollop of whipped cream on top of her own French toast and berries. She picked up her knife and fork, cutting herself a rather large chunk and brought it close to her face, mock inspecting the bite. “This is your final chance to back out, you know. No harm nor foul in calling it quits while you’re still ahead. I’ve only got fond imaginings of you and your French Toast at the moment.” The girl looked over at Nick with a small grin. “After I eat this, there’s no going back. You might be stuck with me for a while if it’s as good as you promise. I get rather attached to my French Toast, you know…”

After all, he knew precisely what it was like to keep yourself tied together with a smile. Or even just tied together. Sometimes even a smile wouldn’t do it. So while he watched her pick up the pieces and shove away the pain-- a reaction she thought he hadn’t noticed --he knew that, someday, he hoped to get the whole story.

Because anyone who could hurt Liz Kane like this is a person who didn’t deserve to continue breathing. But, it seemed, that would be a conversation for another time. For now, he’d let it go. As he said he would.

He tore his eyes away from her, focusing on the task at hand as he said, “I know what it’s like to still hurt. To find yourself broken beyond repair and, even as the years pass, know that the pain won’t. Sometimes the pain never leaves you. Sometimes it dulls but it never really heals. I know what that’s like.”

He paused, wiping a stray hair from his forehead with the back of his head before continuing, “I also know that, sometimes talking about it helps.” His eyes snapped to hers as he added, “But only with someone you trust. And if I’m not that person, then don’t tell me.” He sighed as he backtracked, realizing his mistake, “Of course I’m not that person. This isn’t a matter of asking you to trust me with your secrets. It’s a matter of hoping that you will trust someone with them.

“Keeping your pain packed away like a box of forgotten trinkets is one of the worst ways to cope. Because it’s always there. It always has the power to destroy you all over again. But if you unpack that box and give those things away, you cut it off. And there’s no chance of finding it accidentally or someone else finding it, pulling it out and blindsiding you with it, when you’re least expecting it.”

He stopped suddenly, realizing for the first time he’d spoken aloud. Somewhere in the middle, he’d stopped talking about her. Somewhere in the middle there, he’d realized he was just as guilty of locking up his secrets and throwing away the key. This wasn’t about Liz. Though he hoped she’d trust him enough eventually. This was more about his own sad scars and the power he’d given them. It was about the story he’d been writing for himself, the one he would never let end happily.

His lips slowly curled into a small smile as he glanced back at Liz. “What I’m saying is tell me when you’re ready, if you’re ever ready. I will always be here to listen.”

And with that, he put the subject to rest. He cut himself off, packing his feelings away as he’d done throughout his youth. From the moment his parents first said they disapproved. From the moment he’d slept with a pretty blonde, only to have her run out. From the moment he’d realized he probably wasn’t worth their time, so why should he ask them to stay? Why should he ask anyone to stay.

But, yet, she had. This time. This time, he wouldn’t ask too much or deliver too little. He’d let things run their own course. And he’d stop pushing. That was always his problem. He wanted too much and never stopped to consider other people. So, instead, he gave them more than what they asked and hoped it was somehow enough.

Maybe that’s why she was still here. Because he hadn’t asked for anything in return. He’d let her stay, watched over her and never asked for more.

Though he’d wanted so, so much more.

But those were wishes best left for another star. For now, he’d be thankful for what he had. And what he had at this precise moment was a pretty blonde teasing him about his former life as poor blonde boy, who hadn’t yet blipped on the blue blood radar.

He smiled, sadly, almost as though the ghosts of his past still haunted him. “Sometimes people choose to disregard what doesn’t serve them. This town still remembers what I once was. But as long as I throw my lavish parties and shower them with booze, they won’t dredge up the past. They’ll ignore it as long as it serves them.” It was a sad fact but true. In his experience, blue blood memories were long only when they wanted something from you. But so long as you kept them happy, they’d let all the bad blood lie. “Besides, if I had smaller parties, you’d think I lost my touch. Nick McLain has never thrown a small party.”

He grinned, almost laughing at his own joke as he pushed off the counter and turned back to his cabinets. He pulled down two glasses and moved to the fridge, turning back to her as he went. “Drink? Water? Orange juice? I usually have coffee. But I’m not opposed to tea.”

While he allowed her time to consider, he set the glasses on the counter and leaned against the opposite counter so he stood facing her. His left arm crossing over his chest, he rested his right elbow on his arm as his hand stroked his chin. “I know exactly what you mean,” he answered, in reference to her observation about secrets. “You should see some of my closets. The skeletons I’ve got packed in there? I had to build more closests just to keep them all.” He grinned as his right arm dropped to cross over his left.

“Perhaps you’ll discover them in your search. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even run across the man behind the curtain.” He waved his right hand to the right as he added, “Perhaps I’m just the façade and there’s a little man hiding out somewhere, pushing all the right buttons. Who knows.”

His eyes twinkled as he pushed off the counter, moving to lean on the one in front of her as he continued to study the blonde beauty, enchanting his kitchen. Although it had been hours since she’d first found him, he still couldn’t quite believe she was here talking to him. He’d watched her for years without ever suspecting he’d actually speak to her. And now, they sat here chatting like old friends.

Which they were. Technically. If you could even classify their encounter as friendship. Or a relationship. Or anything beyond one night that had happened because of a dare. A night she didn’t even seem to remember. Perhaps Nick shouldn’t consider it either.

Maybe this was their chance to start over and get it right. Maybe this was his time to make the move he should’ve made all those years ago. But, then again, it wouldn’t have worked then. Not like it was working now. He was a different person then. He wasn’t rich. He hadn’t yet learned how to be this person. He hadn’t yet learned how to become the man he’d wanted to be then. He hadn’t yet been totally broken. The pieces had already started chipping away but the shards hadn’t yet begun their fall.

Back then, this wouldn’t have worked. She would’ve laughed in his face, flipped her hair and been off. No, he couldn’t have made this move before.

Perhaps this was time’s way of giving him a second chance. Of saying you wanted this girl, but you weren’t ready for her. Now you are. You’d better not blow it this time. And blow it, he did not intend to do. He wanted this, wherever it chose to go. If it ended up no more than this moment, stolen alone in his kitchen, that would somehow be enough.

After all, how many times did you get a second chance with your first love?

First love. The sentiment shouldn’t apply but it did. He loved no one else since. He probably wouldn’t. And it had stemmed only from a single night that might never be repeated. But it was true, all the same. Liz Kane was his first love. And, deep down, he was sure she’d be his last.

But these were feelings he couldn’t yet express. In all honestly, he might never have the chance. For now, they were two people in a single kitchen, sharing a meal. And, for now, that would have to be enough.

With the same small, sad smile, he added, “Oh, I don’t know. My skeletons are pretty broken. They’ve been locked up a long time. Maybe they could use some company.” He paused a beat, his eyes locking onto hers. “Maybe yours could too.”

And then they’d both moved to the fridge and Nick had stopped behind her to fetch the berries. And as he stopped there, his hand resting against her waist as he held the door open beside her, he glanced down, taking in the bright yellow gleam of her long, blonde hair. His voice dipped as he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “How do you know I don’t stock my wine cellar in preparation of such a visit? Maybe you’re not such a grand thief after all. Or maybe I should buy you a pair of tights for such excursions. I hear they served Robin Hood well.”

And with that, he’d nabbed his own prize and returned to his counter, leaving her to fetch the whipped cream.

He’d already dropped in the seat next to her as the whipped cream landed on her finger and took the short trip to her mouth. As she offered him his own taste, he was set to take it before she whipped it away. With his own smirk, Nick grabbed her wrist, stilling it next to him. “And how am I to know it isn’t really poisoned. Perhaps you are just trying to pacify me? Maybe I would like a taste.”

He nodded toward the whipped cream can, still smirking as he released her wrist and waited. He held her gaze as he leaned his head on his hand, still studying her.

“I’m not worried about the caliber of my French Toast. I think it will speak for itself in a moment. But are you prepared to eat your words? After all, you’ve been talking a good game about my French Toast. Perhaps you’ve even hurt its feelings. When it lives up to the standards I’ve already given it, and it will, are you prepared to say so? After all, this is first class French Toast. Only the best. I wouldn’t make this for just anyone. At least give it the credit it deserves.”

And with a small smile, he watched as she took the first bite. And considered her comment about coming back for more. Oh how he hoped she would. He wanted nothing more than to replicate this morning again and again.

If Nick McLain could choose one more to live in for the rest of his life, it would be this one. He could sit here, quietly watching Liz forever. It was almost as though high school had come to him. But better. In high school, Liz had been an unobtainable fantasy.

Here, she was real. And sitting beside him. Talking to him. Making eye contact. Her attentions were his alone. It was the only hope he ever truly wished would come true. And now here it was, playing out before him like a dream.

But this was no dream.

And even though she wouldn’t stay here forever, he found that he would be okay even after she’d gone. Because he had this moment. And that’s all he’d ever wanted.

But, even so, he said it all the same. He had to. In some small way, he needed to tell her. And maybe, she needed to hear it.

“Don’t worry. This kitchen is always open. Especially to my favorite French Toast connoisseur. Well, that is, if you like it. If you don’t, I never want to see you here again. My French Toast couldn’t take it. It’s highly sensitive, you know. It is French, after all. Long memory. Doesn’t forgive easily.

top ten favorite roleplay husbands 💋 Nick McLain of On the Oceanfront

i feel like ward is the annoying little brother nick never had????? like idk why, but I just really see them as friends??? but ward is ward so like he def like teases nick ALL THE TIME but that’s just what he does to like everyone but especially the people he cares about like that’s just how he shows affection???? I feel like he would have thought that nick was super awesome sticking it to his parents like that (idk if he knows his full story but if he does he would be like “damn dude that’s amazing” he also loves that he rubs his success in the faces of people who mistreated him in the past. 

also, ward is like lex’s bff and I can see ward being part of the nick’s “makeover” team of lex/ian???? ward would def be like “no” at like half the things that nick wears tho omg ;DDD but he’d also be there w/ lex to help get nick’s ~gatsby~ parties off the ground and he def comes to EVERY SINGLE ONE whenever he’s in town and doesn’t understand??? why??? nick throws them and then hides??????? 

but yes!!!! i love all of this!!! and i can definitely see nick having met the eastwoods in new york and would totally be glad to see them all come to va beach and he probably let them stay with him when they were visiting and offered to keep them when they decided to stay. and i feel like nick seriously welcomed them all with open arms and was basically like “stay as long as you like” ~waves at his ginormous house~ “and make yourselves at home”

so, honestly they all have probably had a standing invitation since nick moved to va beach?? and since they were close in new york/helped turn nick into the fabulous unicorn he is today/that’s definitely a lasting bond and he would probably visit them when he goes to new york as well??

and since they are such good friends, i feel like nick would just take ward’s teasing in stride and love it/love that they have that kind of friendship??? because nick doesn’t usually end up in the rich people crowd. so like the porters, the eastwoods are definitely an anomaly and, tbh, he probably met ward/the rest of them either at parties or through the porters??? but when they/ward took an interest in him, that’s definitely when ~friendship happened and nick would’ve loved them if they took an interest in him/stuck by him.

AND WARD SHOWING UP TO ALL OF HIS PARTIES. THAT IS BEAUTIFUL. tbh, i feel like when nick decided to start having them he just called up lex and ward and was like “i need you to come be a party” and with their influence, the parties began. meanwhile nick and ian were watching from the balcony, hahahaha.

also ward shipping liznick is THE GREATEST THING EVER. nick is just like “obviously i’m the one who ends up with the great girl. have you met this group? i’m clearly the best one here.” ~nick learned all his confidence from lex/ian/ward and now they can all be like WE HAVE CREATED A MONSTER.

I feel like the first party goes down something like this… Elaine: are you this nick McLain persons son? Nick: no, I am nick McLain Elaine: what are you, like 12? And I love it.

I like that! I feel like Elaine would never mention Liz by name either, just because she’s so overly protective of her and is like “the last thing she needs is another person talking about her because the tabloids do enough!” So it could be funny when they all make the connection. And then Elaine will feel short forever.

Do you think we should start them off IC?

i was going to just go ahead and start these two off ic but i actually can’t remember where we’d decided to start. soooo, i definitely think we’re ready but where would we like to start them???

do we want to liz to have introduced them/or liz be introducing them? or do we want them to meet at one of nick’s parties or something? or maybe they just happen upon each other somewhere in town or something?? thoughts?

As I said before, Harry has some problems with Nick and to be perfectly honest…none of them have anything to do with Nick himself smdh.  It’s more what Nick ~represents.  Nick is someone who used determination to build himself up from the ground up, thus proving that it can be done, which flies in the face of Harry’s values for a couple reasons, but more on that later.  He also represents an entrepreneur which is what the Wests were and Harry has 4578903456789098765467890 problems with them which is the bigger deal and at the heart of Harry’s weird hang ups about Nick.  Worse, Harry respects what he’s accomplished, and Harry doesn’t handle these dichotomies well so he seeks to belittle it.

Harry is the grandson of the great Cyrus West, father of an empire now decayed.  Cyrus is essentially Ozymandias and Harry is Shelley/the Traveler awed (and in this case haunted) in the shadow of his ruin.  Harry’s father, Roger, was so overwhelmed by living up to Cyrus’ expectations and image that he cheated to try and do well enough and, in so doing, tore down the West name.  Roger killed himself and left his wife and son to find his body and deal with the aftermath of the scandal and the loss of everything they’d once had.  As a result, Harry has a deep-seated horror of trying to get on without a safety net.  He feels trapped and boxed in with no way out.  He also prefers to think that there was no alternative.  Harry doesn’t want to be like Cyrus and he doesn’t want to be like Roger either so he tells himself he has no other options.  Nick flies in the face of all that, bc Nick is just out there doing his thing and, for him, he just happens to be a billionaire.  There’s no bloody, dented crown hovering round his brow.  Nick is free and it galls Harry.

TL;DR - I feel like I’m making no sense…but the point is: Harry is basically trapped by his own mindset and Nick is out there living outside those precious rules that were drilled into Harry from the time he was a kid and it just really messes with him, essentially.  So he just kind of wants to see Nick fail to reaffirm his own worldview?????  

i think the main thing from your other post is what did you and lauren decide about a harry/liz fling? tbh, i don’t really think nick would care all that much. especially if it was before liz and nick got together. i think nick knows that liz had ~past relationships and he isn’t super concerned with those. unless, of course, the person treated her badly??? then nick is ALL KINDS OF ANGRY and probably still does things to them, haha.

anyway, first off, I LOVE ALL YOUR SUPERHERO REFERENCES. NEVER STOP KATE. also wow jesse eisenberg looks like he was a great lex luthor. was he??????

*is easily distracted* ANYWAY, so honestly, i feel like harry isn’t really even on nick’s ~radar. although nick is rich, he still doesn’t really ~live like a rich guy and he doesn’t really associate with rich people all that much? except for the porters and the eastwoods because they took care of him in new york and nick is more one to stick with people who stuck with him? and i’m guessing nick might not have known harry in new york?? so he might not even know harry/give him a thought?

he definitely invites all the rich people of va beach to his house though because that’s his own personal form of retribution at the people who did him wrong. so it has less to do with giving the rich people a fun time and more to do with showing that he can??? and since he doesn’t really attend his own parties, he probably doesn’t even see the people who come to them?

so i guess what i’m saying here is do you think harry would do anything abuot his feelings for nick??? or would he just feel them from afar??? or might these two end up interacting at some point???

HAHAHA okay so wow, um, these two will def not like each other at all??? for lots of reasons tbh