Chapter Twenty-Three
Nico
“So, you’re what, about halfway done?” Sharon stands in the doorway, her eyes narrowed at the boxes of books remaining along the far wall. The books I’ve sorted and catalogued are stacked neatly along the other wall.
“Um, yeah. I think that’s about right.” I try to sit up straight, and I close the book I just finished flipping through to check for damage—an old biochemistry textbook that was grouped with several other older textbooks.
“I expect you to finish by Thursday, at the latest,” Sharon says, and I nod quickly as her gaze meets mine. Her eyes are intense and filled with skepticism, but I manage another nod that I hope is more convincing.
I feel oddly confident that I can indeed finish by Thursday, or even Wednesday, and so I tell her that. “It won’t be a problem.”
She stares at me for several seconds, her expression unreadable, until I feel uncomfortable enough that I pull my gaze away and shrink down in my chair.
I thought I’d been doing a decent job, but Sharon tends to always look like she’s angry.
At least, that’s how she is when she’s interacting with me.
I sit there awkwardly for another few seconds, and then Sharon hums.
“Well, keep it up. When you’re done with this, I’ll give you the criteria for what we keep versus what gets recycled and what gets sold to the bookstore in Omaha.
You can go through your spreadsheet and sort everything so we can send an invoice and then box up the books.
You’re moving right along here. Good job. ”
A spark of pride flares in my chest at her praise, and I lift my eyes in surprise. “Th-thank you.”
She gives a stiff nod but then points a finger at me with a frown. “Make sure you go on break today. Twelve to one. Take the full hour. Got it?”
I nod quickly. I fully intended to take my entire lunch hour today, and the reason why almost makes me smile.
Sharon gives me a look but doesn’t say anything else, and she spins on her heel and leaves the room.
When I’m finally alone again, I close my eyes and exhale a slow, shuddering breath, trying to let the tension out of my shoulders.
I handled that well. Maybe. I don’t think things are really getting easier—all of my anxiety is still here with me, all the time.
But I do think I’m getting better at holding myself together when I really need to, including when I’m interacting with my boss.
With another long breath, I get back to work, keeping an eye on the clock in the lower right corner of the laptop. 11:42 a.m.
Soon.
He’ll be here soon.
I hope.
Butterflies flutter around in my stomach, and I find myself glancing toward the door every minute or so, overcome by a sort of eager anticipation.
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt like this before.
In fact, I’m certain I haven’t, and when I glance up again at 11:58 a.m. and see him standing there in the doorway, his hand raised to knock, a wave of the most amazing warmth crashes into me.
He’s here. He came.
“Hey,” he says, lowering his hand as he steps in the room.
“Hey.” I’m grinning, and I can’t stop it. I don’t think I want to, though. It feels good. And that’s also something I’m not used to.
Alex shoves both of his hands in his pockets as he stares at me. His eyes look almost stormy, but he’s also smiling, maybe a little more tentatively than I am. That might be a first.
“The librarian lady said you were back here and to make sure you took your whole break today,” he says, arching his eyebrows.
Damn, he looks adorable like that.
“So, I thought we could grab tacos at Del Sol and then head to Harley’s for that ice cream we didn’t get last week, if we have time?” He’s still staring at me, and when I don’t respond, his smile deepens, and he laughs quietly. “Yo, Nico, you there?”
I bite my lower lip and nod slowly, and his eyes dart down to my lips as his cheeks turn the most perfect shade of pink. Fuck me.
“Yeah. That sounds good,” I manage, and I tear my gaze away long enough to save the file I was working on, close the laptop, and stand up. When I look back at him, his eyes meet mine with this soft, caring expression, and he smiles and tips his head.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll drive.”
“’Kay.”
A few minutes later, he pulls his mom’s truck into a parking spot in front of Del Sol, a taco place just a few blocks from the library.
The rain is coming down pretty hard, so we hurry in, managing to not get too wet.
I claim a table for us in the corner—thankful that it’s not busy—and Alex steps up to the counter to order us some tacos.
I have the briefest flicker of shame when I see him pull out his wallet to pay, but he glances over his shoulder at me and grins reassuringly like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
His grin brightens up the whole room, I fucking swear, and all that shame turns into something warm and wonderful.
Heat races up into my cheeks, and I lower my eyes.
A moment later, he sets two bottles of water on the table and slips into the seat across from mine. “It’ll be just a few minutes, they said.”
“Cool. Um, thanks for—” I wave a hand toward the counter, and he nods.
“Yeah, no problem.” He pushes one of the bottles of water across to me. “So, um, how was your morning?”
“Fine. You?”
He purses his lips and stares at me for a long second before nodding. “Fine, yeah. I, uh, helped my mom move the chairs and tables from the backyard, and that’s it, really.”
“Sounds boring.”
He shrugs, and I open my bottle of water just as one of the staff brings over two huge plates filled with various types of street tacos—chicken, steak, tofu, veggie, and even . . . Narrowing my eyes, I lean forward to get a better look.
“Is that . . . shrimp?”
My eyes dart up to see Alex grinning at me. “Yup. Just for you.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Bro, why?”
“Are you telling me you don’t actually like shrimp?” His eyes are fucking gleaming now, and he reaches to the plate in front of him and grabs one of the chicken tacos.
“You know I don’t,” I counter.
He fake-scoffs, his eyes still bright, and he just grins through his chewing as he stares at me, his gaze warm and familiar. My breath catches in my throat, and I feel my cheeks heating up again. Or more. Maybe they never cooled off.
Alex tips his head toward the plate in front of me. “Someone’s got to eat it, and it’s not going to be me.”
The challenge isn’t really one I care to beat, and so, despite Alex’s huff, I pick up one of the veggie tacos instead.
The two corn tortillas are stuffed with black beans, roasted zucchini, peppers, onions, and cilantro, and even though I thought I wasn’t hungry, I find myself shoving the small taco in my mouth and taking a huge bite.
It’s really, really good, and I finish in only a few more bites as Alex downs his chicken taco and one of the steak tacos.
We talk a little more between bites, not about anything consequential, but the longer we’re together, the more I just want to drop the tacos, grab his hand, drag him back out to his mom’s truck, and disappear with him into the back seat so we can continue where we left off this morning.
His lips look so fucking kissable, and I find myself staring at them after I’ve eaten my third taco.
Without meaning to, my tongue peeks out of my mouth and wets my own lips, and I hear him suck in a breath.
My eyes shift back up to his, my heart pounding, and he takes a long, slow breath, leans in, and says, “Done eating?”
I nod eagerly, and he holds my gaze for another couple of seconds, then he nods, too, and hops up to head to the counter.
A minute later, he returns with a take-out box.
We both move the remaining tacos to the box, and then together, we jog out through the rain to the truck.
The doors unlock as we approach, and I almost laugh as he glances around before grabbing the handle for the rear passenger side door. He yanks it open and nods at me.
“Tinted windows in the back,” he says with a silly grin, and I laugh and jump in the truck ahead of him.
His hand finds my back as he follows me in, and as soon as the door closes behind us, he quickly sets the take-out box in the front seat and grabs me around the waist, pulling me over into his lap.
His lips find mine, and he kisses me once and then again and again, like he’s been waiting all day to devour me.
Without losing contact, I shift to straddle him, settling on top of his thighs, and he groans into the kiss as his hands start to roam across my back.
He untucks my shirt and slips a hand up underneath, and I break the kiss, dropping my forehead to his shoulder as his soft skin caresses mine.
“Ah, god. Fuck, that’s good.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums in response, and his lips graze my temple as he holds me against him, his hand now sliding all the way up my back to my shoulders. His other arm is around my waist, and he pulls my hips closer with a groan. “Oh, fuck,” he hisses, his breath hot on my cheek.
I laugh at his curse, though I’m fighting not to be too overwhelmed by everything myself. I can feel his cock through his jeans, hard and hot and pressing into my upper thigh. It’s a lot, and every bit of this is new to me.
It feels incredible. Comfortable. Right.
And fucking good.
Wanting more of that pressure, wanting to feel his arousal and know it’s because of me, I grind my hips down into him. I gasp at the sensation, and at the same time, he throws his head back and groans. God, I love that sound.
I turn my head, breathing hard as I grind into him again. “You keep making that noise,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot right at the base of his neck. “I like it. A lot.”
“Nico . . .” His breathing is ragged as both of his hands shift to my hips, his fingers flexing into me like he wants to pull me down onto him more. “You . . . keep doing things that make me make that noise,” he murmurs, breathless and rough. “Mmm, and god, I like it, too.”
I straighten up a little, frame his face with my hands, and lower my mouth back to his.
It’s all heat and softness this time, and when both of his arms slip back around my waist, I can’t stop the shiver that runs all the way down into my toes.
I pull away, breathing hard, and rest my forehead against his.
Some urgent need to apologize bubbles up in my chest, but I manage to push it away as his lips graze my cheek.
“Ice cream?” he asks, though he doesn’t sound super interested in it.
Neither am I. I shake my head and settle into him more, my arms wrapped loosely around his neck. I don’t wanna move from this spot.
A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest, and then he breathes in deeply, burying his face into the crook of my neck. His lips find my skin, and he starts covering me in light, airy, teasing kisses.
We don’t say anything else. I think we don’t really need to right now.
And I’m happy to just bask in this feeling for as long as I can.