Chapter 10 Nico
NICO
We slept for ten hours. Ten whole, uninterrupted hours.
It feels weird. I don’t remember the last time I was so rested. As I peer over Este’s head, flicking my gaze over the living room, even the air seems so much more awake. It’s dark, but everything is a little brighter, a little less hazy.
I didn’t mean to fall asleep last night.
But after we caught our breath and ate dinner, Este wanted to cuddle.
And I’m quickly realizing that whatever Este wants from me, she gets.
It’s not like we didn’t need it. I haven’t slept for so long since I was sedated in the hospital—honestly, I never thought I’d sleep through the night again.
But then, I never thought I’d end up cuddling my best friend’s daughter to sleep. And that’s the least unexpected thing that happened last night. It’s hard to regret it when we both made it through nightmare-free. It’s hard to regret it at all, even though I really should.
Este looks peaceful, her sleepy frown nowhere to be seen. Her cheek is pink from where it was pressed against my chest all night. I have to push down the urge to kiss it. I have no idea what’s happening to me. Last night was completely out of character.
My sex life is boring, which is just how I like it.
Zero strings, a couple of hours in a hotel room in Jackson, a couple of times a month with a stranger I meet on an app who’s looking for the same thing: temporary stress relief.
Usually, it’s tourists or people passing through for work.
There are a lot of people looking for casual sex out there.
It’s not mind-blowing, fireworks, earth-shattering sex, but for a little while, it’s fun.
Last night was not that. Last night was… interesting. World shifting. Everything.
Este brought out a side of me I didn’t know existed. And, in the moment, it felt completely natural.
I could argue that it wasn’t technically sex, but I’d be lying, and I’m not that good a liar.
If I were, I’d tell myself it meant nothing.
I’d tell myself I didn’t like it when she called me “Daddy,” or handed me the reins.
I’d tell myself it was just because we’re stuck here together.
I’d tell myself we have nothing in common, that she’s just Bryan’s daughter to me, and I’m just her dad’s best friend to her.
I’d tell myself that, under no circumstances, is it going to happen again.
I shift away from her, untangling myself as gently as I can so I don’t wake her. She lets out a little whimper, and, for a moment, I think I’ve fucked up, but she grips the blanket and snuggles in, still sound asleep.
The dogs, on the other hand… Grey jumps gracefully from the bed. Earl half-stumbles off, but at least he’s quiet. I pull on my jeans and my flannel from yesterday, grab my phone from the table, and shove my feet into my boots by the door.
It must have snowed again overnight, and I wrap my arms around me as I follow the boys outside.
The sky is still dark, with millions of stars twinkling above us.
Yet I’m staring at my phone. For so long, I’ve been entirely on my own—by choice.
It’s easier not to get hurt or to hurt people when you don’t have anyone in your life.
That doesn’t apply to Shay. Not letting her in hurt both of us, and I’m trying to be better.
That doesn’t mean it’s easy for me to open up to her, or even have a relationship with her, but we’re getting there.
And right now, my head is a fucking mess, and she’s the only person I want to talk to. The only person I can talk to, considering my only friend is Este’s dad. It’s not long after six, but Shay and Noelle’s bakery opens early, so I know she’ll be awake.
“I was just talking about you,” she answers on the third ring.
“That’s ominous.”
“Nothing bad. Noelle accidentally scratched the floor when she was moving a chair, and I was showing her your walnut trick to fix scratches in wood. Still works a treat,” Shay says with a yawn.
“Thank you, Nico!” Noelle shouts. It’s unnecessary, because I can still hear her clearly when she says, in a normal volume, “I’ll head down and get started. Talk as long as you need, sweetheart.”
Shay says something in French, and Noelle replies in what I think is supposed to be French.
“You’re teaching her French?” I ask my sister, and Shay snorts.
“An app is teaching her French. I tried, but we both got too frustrated. She’s determined to be able to speak to the locals when we go on our honeymoon next year.”
“Aren’t you supposed to get engaged before you start planning the honeymoon?”
“Usually, but we’re both trying to outdo the other with our proposals, and it’s taking a while.
Noelle wants a Christmas Eve wedding, so we’ve started planning.
You’re coming,” Shay states. It’s not a question, and I don’t blame her.
Before we started talking more regularly last year, I’m not sure if I would’ve said yes if asked.
“Of course I’m coming. Happy for you, Shay.
” Noelle is everything I could have ever dreamed of for my sister—they balance each other perfectly, and I’ve never seen Shay so happy.
I’m not sure either of us ever imagined she’d fall in love with someone so much younger than her, but when it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.
I can hear the smile in her voice when she replies. “Thanks. How are things going with Este?”
It’s not funny how much just hearing her name makes my heart race. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Everything’s great, yeah. She likes it up here, and the dogs love her,” I tell Shay.
“Are you kidding? They hate everyone!”
“Not Este.”
“Damn. That makes how much they hate me feel a little personal,” Shay grumbles. “Anyway, what’s up? I assume you didn’t just call for a catch-up this early.”
Right. “Uh, no. There is something I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”
“Shoot.”
I draw the freezing air into my lungs. “Do you remember last year on our birthday when you came up here to see me and tell me about Noelle, and I didn’t judge you for being into someone sixteen years younger than you?”
The line is silent for almost a full minute, and I swear I can feel the words sinking into her.
“Absolutely not, Nico. You cannot, under any circumstances, have sex with your best friend’s twenty-six-year-old daughter.” Her tone is somewhere between firm and disbelief.
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Trust me, you have no idea how hard I’m trying not to.”
“Try harder. Ugh,” she echoes my groan. “What the hell, Nico?”
“Hey, I didn’t judge you when you told me about Noelle.” It’s a weak argument; we both know it’s not the same.
“First, you were a little judgy. And even if you weren’t, you and I both know it’s not the same,” Shay says, which has more to do with common sense than our triplet connection.
“You’re twenty-one years older than her, and she is literally stuck in your house with nowhere to go.
That is not a healthy power balance. Not to mention the fact that she’s been through a hell of a lot recently—I talked to Bryan.
No good can come of anything between you two. ”
It’s a reality check I don’t want but desperately need. Even if Este was the one who initiated things, I should’ve known better than to let it go so far.
Things got so out of hand, so quickly last night.
We lost ourselves to each other, and I can’t risk doing that when I’m supposed to be taking care of her.
What happens if she suddenly feels unsafe with me, and her options are dealing with it or trying to make her way down the blocked mountain road? Neither one is good.
“You’re right,” I admit with a sigh. “Shit. It won’t happen again.”
“Again? Fuck, Nico. You’ve got to be kidding me.” I can picture her disappointed expression perfectly. It’s one I’ve been on the receiving end of many times before—she looks exactly like our mom when she’s disappointed. “Did you… Please tell me it was her idea.”
“It was. But I should’ve stopped it. I know.”
“No shit,” Shay replies. “It was just sex, right? You don’t have feelings for her?”
“Of course not,” I say quickly. And I mean it, even if it doesn’t taste quite right in my mouth. “I mean, I like her a lot. She’s great, and funny, and impressive as hell. And we have a lot in common. So, yeah, I do feel things, obviously, but just normal things.”
“Normal things like what?” Shay asks, her voice strained.
“You know… normal things. I like being around her. And I’m protective of her and shit. Like, on Sunday, she stubbed her toe on the stairs, and I briefly considered dismantling the whole staircase and burning it. But that’s not weird.”
“Oh god,” she groans.
I’m a smart guy, recent actions notwithstanding.
I feel how it feels; I hear how it sounds.
And even if I couldn’t, I can read Shay well enough to know how it sounds to her.
The thing about being so connected to another person is that sometimes you need to see a situation through their eyes. Which is exactly why I called her.
“Shay.”
“Nico.”
“Tell me what to do here,” I beg. “I’m so fucked.”
She sighs, and I hear her tapping something. “Well, you’re stuck together, so you’re going to have to be careful. Obviously. How much time have you been spending together? Aside from… You know.”
I do know. “A lot. We’ve been reading together, cooking together, hanging out with the dogs. And…” I trail off, but Shay prompts me:
“And?”
“You said you talked to Bryan. He told you what happened?”
“He just said she went through something last fall and is still struggling with it,” Shay tells me.
“It was a plane crash,” I explain. Clearly, Este wasn’t kidding when she said her dads won’t talk about it.
Shay gasps. “Engine failure, and it wasn’t until it happened that she realized the captain had had a heart attack.
She was on her own. Thankfully, everyone was okay—just minor injuries.
Except for the captain. He was already gone. ”
“Oh my god,” Shay murmurs. “Poor Este. No wonder she’s struggling. She told you all this?”
“Yeah. I think she needed to talk about it. She has a lot of trouble sleeping. Nightmares.”
“And since you don’t sleep either, you’ve been spending a lot of time together when the rest of the world is sleeping?” Shay guesses.
“Kind of. We’ve… We’ve discovered we both sleep better together. On the couch. Just a few hours, but it’s something.” I don’t think bringing up the fact that we both slept for a full night last night would help my case here.
Shay is quiet for a moment before a heavy sigh sounds down the line. “Look, I really am happy you’re finally connecting with someone. And that you’re both sleeping, but you’ve got to nip this in the bud. You can’t go there, Nico. There’s no way this ends well if you don’t quit while you’re ahead.”
“I know. I hear you. Loud and clear.” She might be telling me what I need to hear, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear it.
Of course, if her response to all of this had been, “Great idea, Nico! There’s nothing untoward about you sleeping with your best friend—your only friend’s—traumatized daughter!
” I would probably have been just as put out by her response.
I was never going to be happy with her response.
“I’m sorry,” Shay says, sounding a little gentler. “But hey, this is progress, right? You like spending time with someone. Maybe once the snow clears, you’ll let this motivate you to meet people.” Unlikely, but she won’t thank me for saying it. “In the meantime…”
I glance back over my shoulder, as if I can see Este’s sleeping form through the curtains, and try to ignore the disappointment coursing through me. “In the meantime, I’ll avoid her. As much as I can.”