online.
They had dinner with Winnie the Pooh, watched the Monsters, Inc. comedy show, and battled each other repeatedly on Buzz Lightyear Astro Blasters. Nikki might not be able to beat him at pool, but she kicked his butt at Astro Blasters. After watching the parade and fireworks in each other’s arms, they were heading back to the monorail holding hands when they stumbled across Cinderella.
“Oh, excuse me! I’m looking for Prince Charming. Have you seen him?” Cinderella turned to Michael, then back to Nikki. “I see you’ve already found your Prince Charming, though. You are a very lucky princess.”
Nikki slipped her hand into the crook of Michael’s elbow and smiled. “Yes, I am.”
Michael bent down and kissed her. Another employee in a yellow shirt snapped a few pictures and everyone around them cooed. They posed with Cinderella for one last photograph in front of the castle before saying goodbye.
The Monorail was crowded. Michael stood behind Nikki as they both held onto the pole, his arms forming a human cage around her to keep anyone else from bumping into her. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck and the way his body brushed lightly against hers as the Monorail swayed. Her every nerve ending was on fire, screaming for him to kiss her neck, press himself tighter against her. She stifled a moan and closed her eyes in a vain attempt to ward off those urges. She could have sworn she heard him moan in return, and when she leaned back against him she could feel the evidence of his arousal before he jerked a step away from her.
She held his hand as they drove to the nearest mom-and-pop motel, more for the anonymity than for budgetary reasons. Luckily, they were able to find a nice one not far from the parks. Nikki enjoyed the comfortable silence during the short drive. She used the opportunity to think about what the day meant to her, what all those undeniable feelings meant to her.
She loved him.
She just didn’t know what to do about it.
Michael seemed deep in thought too. He broke the silence first, clearing his throat before speaking.
“Nicole, I’m ready to tell you about how my parents died, if you still want to know.”
Nikki didn’t say anything, just nodded her head and squeezed his hand in encouragement. It wasn’t until after they’d checked into their room and she got settled, sitting Indian-style on the bed, leaning against the headboard patiently, that Michael started to speak, pacing back and forth in front of the bed as he did.
“You remember my father now, don’t you?”
Nikki nodded, cringing a bit. The memories she had recovered of him were not pleasant.
“My father was an abuser,” Michael continued, “and an alcoholic. He was a truck driver, did transcontinental runs, so luckily he wasn’t home a lot, but when he was, he made our lives hell. I lost track of how many times I snuck out of my room when I was little. I would use the back door to the trailer, the one that didn’t have a landing attached to it, and would jump the couple feet to the ground and then run to your trailer. To you. When we were young, we’d share a bed and you would hold me while I cried. When we got older, I would sleep on the couch, or on the floor in your bedroom. You’d sneak to my place too, sometimes, whenever your mom wouldn’t come home at night and you heard a sound that spooked you, but I did it a lot more than you did.
“Anyway, one night when we were 15, he’d come home and had beaten my mom pretty bad for the place being a mess, which was my fault, not hers. I’d had Christian and Jeremy over to play video games and we’d trashed the living room. He started feeling guilty about it and decided to make it up to her by forcing her to go out to dinner with him. She didn’t want to go; he’d been drinking and her face was all bruised. I tried to argue with him to leave her alone, but he just grabbed my
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