Chapter Thirteen
Thirteen
Nico
J J was right. Her room definitely had the better view. That much became obvious as I lounged on the sofa after moving my stuff in a couple of hours later, channel surfing with a piece of cake from our fancy dessert on the table in front of me, and she padded out fresh from a shower. Wet hair knotted on top of her head, face washed clean, innocent pink cotton pajamas that didn’t seem so innocent at that moment... and the way she smelled? It was like a hit of the purest drug I’d ever known straight to the bloodstream.
“The bathroom’s yours if you want it.”
Her ring glinted in the low light of the room. She was still wearing it, and that knowledge made something twist, thick and heavy, in my chest.
“In a minute.” I nodded toward the dessert in front of me. “Wanna share this with me first?”
Her blue eyes danced over the cake, then back to me. “I’ve never been one to turn down chocolate.”
I smiled and lifted a fork her way.
She sat across from me and we dug in.
“So, are you gonna call the guys in the band?” she asked. “They’re probably gonna have some questions when they see the news.”
“I texted Sebastian while you were in the shower,” I said. “He’ll let the rest of the guys know.”
“You did?” She stole my water and took a sip. “What did you say?”
“That it was a shotgun wedding because you were pregnant with my lovechild and I...” I stabbed up another bite of cake with a nonchalant shrug. “Take care of my responsibilities.”
“You did not!”
I relented at the truly horrified look on her face, my mind automatically going back to just a few weeks ago when the press had torn into Cohen and his sweet lady, Georgia, speculating something similar. It was definitely not cool. “Okay, you’re right. I didn’t.” I chewed and swallowed, then set my fork down. “I kept it brief and to the point. Told them it was legit but business. They knew what was what before we came here. I’m sure they can read between the lines.”
“That’s it?”
“What do you mean?”
“He just accepted your story like that?”
“Basically.” No point in telling her about his cryptic We’ll talk about this when you get home, just get better response. “What can he say? We’re consenting adults and it was our choice, not his. Right?”
She nodded as she dragged her fork tines through the frosting.
“Hey...” I gently nudged her chin until she looked back up at me.
Time suspended in that moment as her eyes bored into mine, and I wanted nothing more than to run my fingers through her silky hair and taste her lips again while I swallowed sweet moans that were all mine.
She wanted that too, if the way her pupils dilated and her body leaned into my touch was any indication.
This was dangerous—she and I—but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why. My brain couldn’t focus beyond the smell of her freshly showered flesh and the knowledge that she was wearing my ring.
“Nico...”
A door slammed down the hall, breaking the spell, and I watched as the wall came up in her eyes, killing the moment.
I wanted to be relieved. I was.
But I also wouldn’t be Nico Fucking Santorini if I didn’t love a little danger.
I slept on the couch—because I’m a fucking gentleman—and woke up with a mouthful of cushion and a crook in my neck.
I sat up with a groan and eyed the closed bedroom door, imagining JJ sleeping soundly in those cute pink pajamas, her blond hair draped across the pillowcase like Sleeping Beauty. Yes, I loved danger but wasn’t stupid enough to push my way into the bed last night, even though I knew I could’ve sweet-talked my way past those mile-high steel walls she’d slammed up. Hell, I knew this was all business and she had something to prove to her daddy. That much was obvious. I was also sure a tatted-up rocker like me wasn’t anywhere on her perfect husband material list, so this trip had to be throwing her for a mental loop. Me? Sure, it was a wild ride, but I’d had worse. And we both knew my image wasn’t going to take any hits. Hell, rockers married and divorced all the time, and nobody batted an eye. All the fans cared about was the music, and the groupies didn’t give a shit if you were married or not, so...
The bedroom door cracked open and sleepy cornflower eyes met mine.
Well, hell. If I thought JJ was something all prim and proper in her business suits and librarian hair, or even dressed down and freshly showered, none of that held a candle to JJ with bedhead and sheet creases in her cheeks.
“Hey,” she said, her voice low and not quite awake.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Not a morning person, princess?”
She scowled at me and moved toward the in-room coffee and tea setup to start her morning fix.
“I slept fine,” I said to her back. “Thanks for asking.”
She ignored that but after a moment, I smelled the distinct scent of my coffee and knew she was preparing a peace offering, so my smile grew. While I waited, I checked my phone, about choked on the sheer number of social media notifications, texts, and emails related to our nuptials, then set it aside.
A couple of minutes later, she sat next to me and offered me my cup, her eyes sliding down my naked torso to my boxer briefs, silently judging.
“What?” I said. “I sleep hot.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did. You said it with your eyes. You talk loud with those big baby blues, you know.”
“Do I?” She smiled as she sipped.
“Very.”
This made her laugh. “Sorry. I’ll try to tone it down.”
“Don’t.” I met her smiling eyes, meaning it. “I like it.”
She looked away like she wasn’t sure what to do with my honesty. “Did you really sleep okay out here?”
“Not as good as you, clearly...” I pointed to her cheek, making her smile. “But it was alright.”
“Should we order you a cot or something?”
“And have the hotel staff blab to the press?” I scoffed. “No, thanks.”
“You’re right.” She sipped her tea. “We can take turns. I’ll sleep out here tonight.”
And be forced to sleep in a bed that smelled of her by myself? Hell. No. “You’re not sleeping on the couch, JJ.”
Indignant, she spun on me. “Nico—”
“You’re not sleeping on this couch,” I repeated. “And the only way I’m sleeping in that bed is with you.”
That shut her up as she stared at me with wide, shocked eyes.
“That’s what I thought. Now let it go.” I rose and stalked to the bathroom.
When I came out after my shower, she was gone, which was a relief. There was a note on the table, next to a plate of pastries and some fruit.
Went to the gym. I’ll see you later after your session with Dr. Evans.
JJ
P.S. I don’t want to argue. Sleep wherever you’re comfortable.
My left thumb automatically traced the ring on my finger as I reread her words, wondering if she really meant them. What if I was most comfortable sleeping with her? Would she mean it then? Probably not, but I’d survive on my own, just like I’d been doing my whole life.
Knowing there was no way out of it, I got dressed and went to meet Prissy for my daily torture session.
I knocked on the door to her room and she let me in with a smile.
“Good morning, Nico. How are you today?”
I walked in and took in her view of the gray, craggy mountains, topped with a sprinkling of snow. “Alright.”
“Good.” She actually sounded like she meant it. “Want to sit here or in my makeshift office?”
I looked around the living area of her two-bedroom suite and made a decision after seeing the gentle snowfall outside. “Here is good.”
She nodded. “Need a drink or anything?”
“No, thanks.”
We sat after she grabbed herself a water bottle and her trusty notepad and pen. “So,” she said, eyeballing me over her glasses. “I saw some interesting news reports this morning.” Her gaze flashed down to my ring finger.
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Care to share any news with me, Nico?”
Did I care to? No, not really. Did I also know she would drag the truth out of me eventually so I might as well spill it? Sadly, yes.
“JJ and I tied the knot.”
She lifted a brow in surprise. “You’ll have to elaborate.”
“What’s to elaborate? We got hitched.”
“Yes, I gathered. But why? The two of you were not romantically involved before this trip, were you?”
I cleared my throat and shook my head, reluctantly admitting the truth.
“Then...?”
The titanium band on my hand suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. “Well... You know the press was already speculating things, which was why we were rolling with her being my girlfriend on this trip.” I made air quotes with my voice around the word girlfriend.
“Yes,” she said, sounding confused. “I’m not sure how that leads to getting married, though.”
“Right. Uh, well, when we got here, I had a little bit of a setback, and I...” I dropped my gaze to study my hands on my knees as I toyed with the fraying strings of my jeans. This was one of the first times I felt the hot sting of shame for my actions and how they had affected somebody else.
“What happened, Nico?” Prissy prodded gently.
“I left the resort. Found a bar.” I continued to pull at the strings of denim. “JJ figured out where I was. Found me passed out on the side of the road.”
Prissy gasped but didn’t say anything, her disappointment ringing through the air.
I looked up. “She could’ve killed my career right then and there, Doc, but instead, she cleaned me up and gave me another chance.”
“So the marriage was her idea?”
I nodded. “She did it to protect me.” My hands stilled on my knees as it settled in then, full force, what JJ had sacrificed. It might be a marriage in name only, but it was still a marriage and would forever be her first. To me.
“And what do you think about that?”
“I think I owe it to her to try.”
“Try what?”
“To be the man she thinks I am. To be a man worth saving.”