Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
He shakes his head, but I keep going, fueled by the fact that he’s still here and listening.
“You’re honest, reliable. Punctual.”
“Punctual?” He’s rolling his eyes now, and I smirk at him, shift my hands to his shoulders to push him back against the couch cushions, and swing a leg up and over to straddle his thighs.
“Mmm. You’re also gorgeous. Sexy as hell.”
He narrows his eyes at me as his hands find my hips. “I fail to see how being ‘gorgeous’ and ‘sexy as hell’ would make me a good employee.”
“Ah, but you’re not denying that you are in fact gorgeous,” I counter.
“And sexy.”
“Definitely sexy.”
He huffs a small laugh, but then closes his eyes again and dips his chin, even as his fingers flex into my hips. “Alex, what if . . .” He trails off as I slip my hands around to the nape of his neck, my fingers teasing in his hair.
“What if we are able to find something for you? A good job, with benefits. One that pays well and works around or even with your limitations? What if . . .” I graze my fingertips along the smooth skin of his jawline and then tilt his chin up so I can see his beautiful green eyes.
“What if we are able to find you a small studio apartment to rent that’s reasonably priced?
Maybe even close to wherever you’re working so you don’t have to spend so much on gas?
” I pause again and then brush my thumb along his cheek and murmur, “What if . . . everything works out?”
His expression is pinched. Tense. Unsure. And he studies me for a few seconds, his uncertainty morphing into something rougher. I can almost hear the negative thoughts that must be running through his head.
What if I can’t? What if it doesn’t? What then?
I shake my head just once, then bend down and kiss his lips softly but with purpose.
“What if everything works out?” I repeat. This time, he shudders, and his arms wrap around my waist as he pulls me into him. I find his mouth again, and I hope this kiss conveys everything I need it to—my conviction, my support. My love.
He clings to me as he kisses me back, his lips needy and insistent, and when I pull back after a few deeper kisses, he makes a small sound that rips through me.
It’s full of uncertainty and need. He leans his head forward into my chest, shaking, and I bury my face in his hair and kiss the top of his head.
“We can make it work. We can figure out a way,” I tell him, and I kiss his hair again. “We can have this. Us.”
“I want it.”
“Me too.” I shift back a few inches, and he takes a deep breath and then lifts his chin. His eyes are intense now, stormy, and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “We can make it work, Nico,” I promise.
He stares at me, still fighting that battle in his mind. I give him what I can—a gentle smile, a touch of my fingers to his jaw—and then I press my lips to his forehead and whisper, “Please, just say you’ll give it a chance.”
After what feels like a long hesitation, he swallows and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Warmth bursts to life in my chest, and I’m pretty sure I’m smiling like an idiot as my hands frame his face. “You’re sure? Really?”
He rolls his eyes at me, though there’s a barely contained smile tugging at his lips. “I said yes, didn’t I? Don’t push your luck—”
I cut him off with another kiss, and he laughs against my lips before kissing me back. It’s long and deep and slow, and his arms wrap around me tightly, holding me to him.
It’s perfect, just like this, and as we kiss over and over, all I can think is how I never want this to end.
Mom (10:13 p.m.): Tammy and I are heading north for a couple of days to hike some trails in Preparation Canyon State Park. I’ll send you the location. Might not have cell reception some of the time. We leave tomorrow morning. You two doing okay there? Did you talk? ;)
Alex (10:15 p.m.): yeah, some
Alex (10.15 p.m.): we’re ok not sure the leftovers will be gone before you get back tho
Mom (10:20 p.m.): Glad to hear you talked. Keep talking, keep working on things, keep communicating. That’s really important.
Alex (10:21 p.m.): i know mom
Mom (10:22 p.m.): =P I love you!
Alex (10:23 p.m.): luv u too
Alex (10:23 p.m.): when will u be home
Mom (10:25 p.m.): Friday or maybe Saturday. That okay?
Alex (10:25 p.m.): yep! have fun and tell tammy i said hi
Alex (10:26 p.m.): goodnight <3
My mom texted me earlier, too, and I know she was fishing for information, wanting to know how Nico reacted to our talk. I didn’t really give her any details, and I can tell she’s curious but giving me space.
I set my phone face down on the nightstand just as the door creaks open and Nico steps into the bedroom. My eyes dart over, and my breath catches in my throat.
He’s wearing a towel around his waist. Nothing else.
And his cheeks are some adorable shade of pink, tinged with embarrassment.
He gives me a quick, tight smile and then turns away and heads over to the laundry basket in the corner, where he’s been keeping his clean clothes.
I shouldn’t be watching him since he’s obviously feeling self-conscious, but when he bends over slightly to sort through the clothes, the towel stretches over his ass and I have to tear my eyes away, forcing myself to look down at my hands instead.
That doesn’t help much. I’ve got too active an imagination, and I can still see it. His perfect, pale skin and lean muscles. The thin trail of hair leading down from his belly button and disappearing under the towel. The water droplets sliding down his back.
I swallow back a groan and reach down to adjust myself in my pants.
Across the room, Nico straightens back up, and I lift my eyes to see him glance over at me, his cheeks still pink but his lips twisted up in a teasing half smile. He holds up a change of clothes. “Forgot these. Be right back. That is, unless you want me to just sleep naked tonight.”
My face heats up, and I suck in a sharp breath as I stare at him openly now. God, his abs and that happy trail, just the faint hint of dark hair. I want to—
He takes a step toward me, his free hand moving to where the towel is tucked in to secure it at his waist. He tugs at the edge lightly, loosening it, and my heart stops.
Fuck. Fuck, is he serious?
“Wha—what are you—?” I stammer, but Nico doesn’t answer. He just chuckles and then winks at me before disappearing back into the hallway and heading toward the bathroom.
And I let out a long breath and fall back onto the bed, groaning loudly this time as I bring a hand up to cover my eyes.
My body continues to betray me, my dick reacting as though Nico were still in the room with me.
Stepping closer. Tugging off the towel and letting it drop to the floor.
Pushing me back onto the bed as he straddles me, then—
“So, Friday, you know if you want to go to that thing in Omaha—”
Nico’s voice stops abruptly, and my eyes fly open to see him standing in the doorway.
He’s dressed now—just in a pair of navy sleep shorts and an old gray T-shirt that might actually be mine.
And that should probably help me, but it doesn’t.
Not at all. I watch as his tongue wets his lips and his eyes drink me in, stopping at where my hand rests impatiently against my thigh, only inches from my cock.
My sweatpants definitely don’t hide how aroused I am, and I hear him hiss out a quiet “ah, fuck” as he steps all the way into the room and closes the door behind him, not taking his eyes off me the whole time.
I should probably feel embarrassed, like I was when he interrupted me jerking off last week.
But his eyes just look hungry, and that sends a new pulse of heat through me.
I prop myself up on my elbows, and he takes another step closer as he drags his eyes up my body to my face, his teeth now biting at his bottom lip.
Ah, fuck is right.
“I-I wasn’t going to go,” I stammer.
“Go?” He’s closer now, his smile teasing and sexy at the same time.
I swallow hard as he stops in front of me. “T-to Omaha.”
My heart hammers in my chest and heat floods my cheeks as he leans over, climbing on top of me onto the bed.
His knees cage my thighs, and I drop down onto my back as he lowers himself to his elbows over me.
His mouth pauses, his lips nearly brushing mine, and holy god, he smells good. All fresh soap and vanilla.
In a raspy whisper, he says, “Mmm. But you can. If you want.”
“If I . . . Oh, fuuuuck.” I screw my eyes shut and push my head back into the bed as he relaxes his hips down into me. He’s as hard as I am, and his thick cock throbs against mine as his mouth skims down my skin, stopping at the base of my neck.
He stays there for several seconds, breathing hard, and I start to feel it.
He’s trembling, the muscles in his arms and legs shaking, and even his breath shudders on each exhale.
I’m not sure what to do about it or whether it’s just muscle fatigue and exhaustion or something else. So I give him a few more seconds.
Gently, I lift one hand to his waist, and at the contact, a small sound escapes him. It’s not quite a groan or a whimper, but it tears through my heart with its pain and sadness.
“Nico?”
He immediately shakes his head and starts to push himself back up to his elbows.
“Sorry. I—fuck, I’m sorry. I’ll just . .
.” He shifts slightly, and his lips capture mine, and he starts rocking his hips against me with a rhythm that doesn’t quite work.
His kiss, too, it’s forced, detached. Or something.
Something’s wrong.
I bring my hand up to his chest and push lightly. “Mmm, Nico, wait. What’s . . . what’s . . .”
His head drops to my chest, and his whole body shudders and jerks as he holds in a sob. At least, that’s what I think he’s doing. He rolls off of me onto the bed and immediately covers his eyes with his elbow.
“Sorry,” he repeats, his tone full of what I can only interpret as anguish.
I don’t know what’s wrong, and it might not even be anything specific, I realize as I slowly turn onto my side to face him. He’s pale, even his lips, and he looks exhausted and cold, even though it’s quite warm in my room.
My heart aches. Whatever’s going on in his head can’t be good.
Slowly, I reach out and set my hand on his stomach, and I scoot myself closer to him. He doesn’t pull away, but he also doesn’t move at all, not even to lower his arm. I prop myself up onto my elbow, and then I lean in and brush a kiss against his temple.
“I’m here for you,” I say, even though I have no idea if that’s what he needs. I kiss him again, lingering close with my lips this time. Quietly, I suggest, “How about I just hold you? And we go to sleep?”
There’s a moment of hesitation that I feel, a tension in the air. But then he nods once.
“Good, okay.” I push myself up, and he follows, lowering his arm from his eyes and then sitting up. He’s still shaking, but he’s doing a better job of hiding it now.
I wish he knew he didn’t have to hide anything from me. He doesn’t have to pretend if he’s not feeling well. But that’s another conversation for another day.
I stand up and cross the room to turn the light off, and when I turn back around, enough weak moonlight peeks through the shutters for me to just make out his still figure now buried under the covers, the blanket pulled all the way up to his chin, his back to me.
I pad quietly back to the bed and climb in behind him, and before I even get settled, he pushes back against me, nearly begging me to hold him.
So I do. I lower my head onto the pillow, slip my arm around his waist, and let my hand slide up his chest. His hand joins mine, and he sighs, deeply and fully. I kiss the side of his neck and tighten my arm around him. And he sighs again.
“Thank you. I-I’m okay,” he mumbles. “I’m okay.”
“Okay. Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He shivers, but it seems to just be a quick chill or something. “It’s just been a long day. A lot of stuff to think about. And m-my mom. And . . . yeah.”
I nod against him, hoping he feels it, and then I breathe him in and brush my lips against his skin. “Let’s get some rest?”
“Yeah.” He’s silent for a moment, then he says, “Good night, Alex.”
I hug him to me. “Good night, Nico.”