Chapter Sixteen
Sixteen
JJ
N o.
Yes.
Hell, yes.
Definitely no...
With a pained whimper, I pressed away from Nico and shook my head. “We can’t.”
“We can’t go out or can’t fuck?”
I cringed at his word choice and realized therein lied the crux of the matter. At least for me. He was absolutely right. We’d blown way past professional. At least I had. Which was epically stupid. The problem with that was, while he had a rock star case of blue balls and was just looking to scratch an itch with me, I’d gone and caught feelings. How? No clue. All I knew was that at some point between saying “I do” and watching him talk while he strategized with my dad about this photoshopped photo, it dawned on me that I cared.
In some weird mash-up of girlfriend-wife-what-the-hell-was-I-anyway, I actually cared that some stupid bitch was trying to sabotage our non-relationship with her fake photo. Also, even more screwed up? I realized that I would be heartbroken if he cheated on me. Yeah, dumb, considering this marriage thing was for show and I’d married a player who’d made me no promises. Not real ones, anyway.
“Either,” I finally spit out, answering his question, when he arched a brow at me in demand.
“You’re kidding me, right?” He spoke to my back when I walked away to get water from the mini fridge. “The whole point of this was to be seen together... as a married couple. We have to go out.”
I sighed and took a sip before turning back. “Yes. I know. Just... not tonight. I’m tired.”
He clearly didn’t believe me. “And the other?”
“What about it? It should be obvious. We’re not a real married couple, Nico.”
“I beg to differ.” He tilted his head toward my ring. “That rock and the state of Tennessee both say otherwise, Mrs. Santorini.”
I dropped my arm to my side. “You know what I mean.”
“And you know what I mean.” He took a step in my direction. “It may not be traditional, sure, but we’re here. We’re attracted to each other.” Three more steps and he was in my space, staring down into my face like he actually felt something more than lust for me as my stupid heart began to pound painfully against my chest. He forked his hand through my hair and cupped my head. “My contract was clear. No groupies and no prostitutes. It didn’t say a word about a wife, so I think I’m good there.” His eyes dipped to my mouth. “But you wrote it, so you tell me.”
I nodded, swaying toward him because I couldn’t help it. “You are good—” His smile was automatic and delicious. “But I’m not.” I ran my hands over his pecs, soothing both of us. “I’m looking for more, Nico.”
He frowned in confusion. “More?”
“Sex is great, but I’m looking for someone who cares about me. Loves me even. I want a real relationship. A real marriage one day.” I traced the stubble of his jaw, loving the angles of his face even more in the afternoon light. “And what if you meet someone you want to be with in the next few months? I don’t want to confuse matters or...” My words failed me as emotion clogged my throat at the thought.
“Is that what you’re worried about? That I’ll find another wife while I’m married to you?” He tipped my chin up when I looked away. “Hey. Is that what’s on your mind?”
I shrugged. It sounded dumb when he put it that way.
“You’re weird,” he said. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
I huffed out a laugh, but he cut it off when he sealed my mouth with a kiss.
I melted into him as he tugged me into his chest. He didn’t move to take the kiss deeper or more demanding, but it was soul-touching all the same in its simplicity. My knees buckled as he caressed my hair and his tongue caressed my lips, and I was forced to yield to this sweeter, gentler side of him.
Too soon, he drew back and pressed his forehead to mine. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I whispered back, still undone by his kiss.
“Okay, no sex until you’re ready.” His warm breath fanned across my cheek. “But JJ?” His dark eyes bored into mine. “When you are? All bets are off because this ...” He took my hand and slid it down to cup his rock-hard erection. “Belongs only to my wife for as long as she wants it.”
The breath stalled in my lungs.
For as long as she wants it.
He didn’t promise me his heart, but he also didn’t say for the next six months, which was what we’d agreed to at the start of this. That had to be something. Right?
The next couple of weeks were a torturous dance of trying to keep my professional distance while Nico focused on his therapy, while still playing the happy couple in public where he took every opportunity to touch me and kiss me and generally be as close to me as humanly possible. I checked in with my dad and Stassia regularly to keep myself grounded and focused, because even though we were keeping things platonic and I knew Nico still had demons to conquer, I could feel my resistance to him crumbling. Not because he was sexy—though he was—but because he was himself. Sweet, funny, artistic, and, as it turned out, a great conversationalist. At least when he let his walls down and got past the need to push people away with his crass jokes and devil-may-care attitude. Oh, and let’s not forget how much he loved his mom. I hadn’t missed how he called regularly to check in with her and how his face lit with love for her the minute he heard her voice. Who knew I was such a sucker for a mama’s boy?
“Wanna go for a walk with me?”
I glanced up at the sweet man himself as he strolled into the living room of our suite in ripped jeans and tennis shoes, his long hair hidden beneath a ball cap, face pensive. “A walk?” But I was already shutting down my laptop at the idea after being behind a screen too long that day.
“Yeah. Maybe we can head into town, look around at some shops, grab a bite?” He shrugged. “Just get outta here for a while?”
“Okay,” I said. “Just let me get changed.”
He nodded and I skirted him to change out of my lounge pants into some jeans and walking shoes. I also took a minute to brush my hair and dab on a little bit of makeup and body spray before meeting him back in the suite.
“Ready?” he said, his voice low and quieter than normal.
“Yes.” I followed him out and down the hall to the elevators. I glanced over at him as we boarded, and the doors slid shut. “How’s your mom?”
He hit the button for the lobby. “She’s good.” Dark eyes flickered my way. “She says hi.”
I’m sure she said more than that, if what I’d overheard was any indication. I knew the circumstances of our marriage were a lot to wrap your mind around. I turned to face him, not sure what the proper protocol was. “Does she want to meet me?” I bit my lip. “I mean, I’d understand either way. I just thought...”
The elevator doors slid open once we hit the lobby. He stared at me for a long moment before taking my hand and leading me outside.
“Nico?” I yanked us to a stop a few feet from the front doors, next to a flower bed. “What is it?”
“You just thought what?”
I reared back, confused.
“You know what? Never mind.” He started up the path toward the road without me.
“Hey!” I rushed to grab him, pulling him to a stop. “What is going on with you? Did something happen?”
He rounded on me, his eyes wide and a bit wild, his breathing ragged. “Did something...? Jesus.” He raked a hand over his face and barked out a bitter laugh. “You really have no clue, do you?”
“What? Have no clue about what?”
He shook his head like I was a child and looked away.
Suddenly, two weeks of tension and frustration began to simmer and rise to the surface of my skin, making my face hot. “How am I supposed to have a clue if you don’t fucking tell me?”
Surprise lit his face at my outburst, and I used it to my advantage, getting in his space, my finger in his chest. I honestly didn’t care if anyone saw us. Let them photograph our fight and splash it all over social media for all I cared. “Well, Santorini?” I pressed. “Please enlighten me. What don’t I have a clue about?”
His dark gaze burned hot as he stared me down, equal parts fire and ice. “How hard this is.” He bit the words out in a low, pained whisper that raked over my skin like tiny razors. “How I want to quit every single goddamned day and soak in a tub of booze because it hurts so bad.” He stepped closer, forcing my gaze up to his. “How as much as I’m sure your daddy is paying Doc, she ain’t the one keeping me from going off the deep end.” He reached out and cupped my chin. “My music is saving me, but that means nothing if I lose myself to my wife.”
Words clogged my throat as we stared at each other. I didn’t know what to say to that, and he didn’t seem to expect me to say anything, which made me feel even worse. I wanted to give him... something... but part of me held back. I was so damned confused. This was supposed to be a professional arrangement. Business. What the hell was happening and why was it so complicated?
Overwhelmed, I let out a cry and fell into his arms because I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t know what to do with all that and I was scared that I was getting too wrapped up in him for my own good. But, God, he was intoxicating.
“What are you doing to me?” I whimpered into his throat as I clutched him tighter.
He sucked in a breath, his voice losing some of its edge. “Isn’t that my line?”
“I’m sorry it’s so hard for you. I wish I could make it better.”
“I know.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Sorry I got a little heavy on you just now. It’s been getting a little deep with Doc and my brain is going in some dark places. Let’s just go to town and have some fun, okay?”
I tipped my head up to find his soulful eyes, touched that he cared about my feelings so much when he was the one suffering. “Okay.”
With a nod, he threaded our fingers together and led the way. We meandered around town and window-shopped, snacked, and laughed, and had fun like it was a normal date. For a few hours, it was easy to forget who we were and our unusual circumstances. At least until someone recognized him and asked for an autograph or a photo, but he handled the fans in stride and always introduced me as his wife like he was proud of me, totally unfazed by one shitty blackmailer. Like he really cared about me. It was easy to believe the lie.
When the sun was beginning to descend, he turned to me as we passed a pub style restaurant with music spilling out of its doors. “Getting hungry?”
“I could eat.”
He tipped his head toward the pub. “How’s this place?”
“Looks good.”
We headed inside and were seated at a table near the stage where a live band was covering an ’80s pop classic.
After ordering our food, Nico asked me if I wanted to dance.
I grinned at him. “Really?”
“What?” He stood and offered his hand. “You don’t think your old man can dance?”
Memories of the way he swayed with me to Jelly Roll after we were married floated through my mind. “I didn’t say that.”
“Your eyes did.” He wiggled his fingers, encouraging me. “I’m a musician, JJ. Of course I dance.”
My smile grew as I let him lead me to the small dance floor where I wrapped my arms around his neck and he tugged me close and began to sway to the rhythm.
“So, do you think they’ll fall in love at the end?” he asked.
“What?” I nearly tripped over my own feet, but he kept me upright, his dark eyes twinkling like he knew he’d made me stumble.
“The girl and the vampire marked for death,” he clarified. “In the story.”
“Oh. Right. Probably.” Definitely. We’d finished the murder mystery—he’d been right, it was the husband—and had moved on to a fantasy novel.
“That, or he’ll suck the life out of her.” He said it so seriously I almost stumbled again, but I righted myself and focused on the song as it changed to a more up-tempo one, somehow knowing he was talking about more than just characters in a book.
Still, those moments when we shared snacks and listened to stories had quickly become my favorite times of the day. As soon as he left me to go to his sessions with Dr. Evans, I hurried to do whatever work I needed to do for the day, then I hit up the vending machine or gift shop for food and made sure my phone was queued up and ready when he came strolling back into our room. Sometimes he was all smiles, sometimes angsty and emotional from whatever he’d talked about in therapy, but I never pried. Instead, we got into a routine. He’d kick off his shoes and settle in with me on the couch and we’d let the story take us both away. Sometimes we’d talk about it when we came to a stopping point, sometimes not. I’d even shared with him about my mom and the few precious memories I had of her, something I hadn’t done with anyone other than Stassia. Not even Brody, which was strange when I looked at it in retrospect, considering I was getting ready to marry him. Either way, I felt an invisible string pulling us closer together every day and I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too.
His hands dipped to the curve of my hips, his dark eyes glinting in the glow of the lights above the bar. “What’s got you looking so serious? Don’t like the song?”
I let him spin me around. “No, it’s fine. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Work stuff,” I lied. “No big deal.”
He nodded, clearly not believing me, but he didn’t push. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to get home,” he said. “One more week, then you can get back to your life.”
I frowned up at him. “What?” He said nothing, his eyes locked on something above my head. “Hey!” I waited until he looked back at me. “Where did that come from?”
“What do you mean? I just figured—”
I shook my head, knowing exactly what he was thinking. That I’d want to go our separate ways and leave Tennessee behind us. “You figured wrong.”
He stopped moving, causing other couples to have to divert around us as we stood still on the small dance floor. “I’m gonna need you to clarify that, JJ, because these past few weeks have me all twisted up and I don’t want to misread anything.”
I took a shaky breath and let my fingers tangle into the long hair at his nape. “I’m twisted up too. I have been since I met you and that drives me crazy because I don’t do this.”
“Do what?” he murmured.
I shrugged, struggling with how to articulate the jumble of feelings currently swirling in my gut. “Get crushes?”
The smirk that slowly crept over his face was nothing short of sex on a stick. “You have a crush on me?”
I arched a prim brow. “Are you making fun of me?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Is it true?”
Heat flamed my face, but I couldn’t lie. “Yes,” I whispered as people continued to spin and swirl around us to the ballad.
His smirk changed to a sweet, almost shy smile as he gazed down at me. “Then no, I’m not making fun of you, JJ.” He leaned in to brush a kiss to my cheek near my ear, where he whispered, “Because I have a crush on you too.” He gently bit my lobe. “Truth? It might be a little bit more than a crush at this point.”
I sucked in a breath as I wobbled in his arms. This was surreal. My professional and personal lines were getting more blurred by the moment and I wasn’t sure what to do with that.
“Is that...?” The murmurs and pointing began, as well as the mumbles of Nico’s name sounding through the crowd as one person recognized him. Then another. And another. Pretty soon, a couple people in the band had placed him and were grinning like loons.
I sighed, glad they had interrupted our conversation, but also disappointed to have our evening cut short.
The lead singer called for a short break, then hopped off the stage to approach us.
“Hey, man,” he said. “We’re huge fans!”
“Thanks.” Nico smiled and shook hands with him. “Meet my wife, JJ.”
The guy smiled at me like he was honored to meet me as well, which was a new one on me. Usually, I was chopped liver to Nico’s diehard fans.
The drummer joined us and looked like he was about to have a coronary. “Is the rest of the band here?”
Nico shook his head. “Nah, man. Just me.” He slung an arm over my shoulders, his fingers toying with my skin. “We’re actually here on our honeymoon.”
“Really?” They both smiled at us. “Congrats!”
“Thanks.”
They chatted for a few minutes about music and the guy’s drum kit, Nico offering up some helpful tips that they ate up gratefully.
“Any chance you might want to sit in and play a set with us?” the singer asked, his eyes practically begging.
“Ah, that’s nice of you...” Nico held up his hands to wave off the offer but even I could see he was tempted to sit behind a drum kit again.
“Yeah, man!” the drummer added, his eyes glowing. “It would be a real honor.”
I nudged Nico with my shoulder. “You should do it, baby.”
He tried to hide his surprise at the endearment, and I tried to pretend it was just for show in public, but it had surprised even me at how easily it had rolled off my tongue. He grinned down at me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Go have some fun. Dinner can wait.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. He smacked a hard kiss on my lips and jogged over to the stage to settle in behind the drums like he’d been born there while I took a seat at our table and sipped my drink.
The singer announced they had a guest drummer, and the small crowd shouted in excitement, but nobody looked as thrilled as Nico. He took to the music like a fish to water, moving right into their set list without much effort because he was a true professional.
And watching him in his element? Wow. I’m ashamed to admit it now, but even when we were hired as Zero Energy’s PR firm, I’d only watched a few videos with a cursory eye. Never went to a show, didn’t give it much mind, if I’m being honest. But seeing him play live was an experience. The way his entire body moved at one with the beat, the sinewy strength of his strong forearms as they worked, his long raven hair as it flew around his face, the fierce expression of concentration. All of it. He was a work of art and I’d never seen anything quite like it.
He finished the set and came off the stage sweaty and grinning and... high as a kite.
“Hey there!” He grabbed me around the waist and planted an open-mouthed kiss to my neck before swinging into the seat next to me and taking a big swig of water. “Was I awesome, or was I awesome?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You were pretty awesome.”
His return laugh was bigger and heartier than any I’d heard before.
Someone shoved a shot of liquor in front of him and slapped him on the back, while a group of people began to gather around the table, a lot of them women, clearly with eyes on him like he was their next meal. Stupid jealousy reared its ugly head, but so did a surge of protectiveness as I saw the road to ruin lying wide open in front of him.
I casually slid the shot away from him and swallowed it back, putting his soda into his hand while he chatted up the bass player from the band, paying the women no attention, which made me stupidly happy.
One of the women shot daggers out of her eyes at me, but I just made sure to wiggle my left hand around a bit, so my diamond caught the light real good before I leaned over and kissed his cheek as I stole a nacho from his plate. I think she got the hint, grabbing her friend and stomping away.
I managed to get him to eat some dinner, but more and more people continued to crowd around us, as did more and more drinks. He ended up with a beer in his hand, which I couldn’t really rip away without being obvious, so I leaned over to whisper in his ear.
“I think we need to get going.”
“What?” He snapped his head around so our faces were inches from each other. “Why?”
I glanced down at the drink. “So we can end this night while we’re ahead.” I winked. “I can’t marry you twice, Santorini.”
His eyes slid down to the beer, and it seemed to click then how close he was to falling off the cliff. Slowly, he set the drink down and nodded. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.” He threw some cash down on the table, then turned to the crowd. “It’s been fun, folks, but it’s time for me and the wife to head back.”
That was met with whistles and catcalls as he took my hand and linked our fingers to lead me back out into the cold night, which didn’t seem to do anything to take the edge off his high.
After a few minutes, he looked at me. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“You know for what.”
I didn’t exactly, but I could guess. “You’re welcome.”
As we walked along, he kept a tight grip on me even though he didn’t have to because we were all alone. I liked the way his warm, calloused hands felt wrapped around mine, and now I knew what they looked like as he did what he loved to do, and any reservations I had about my decision to marry him and save his career vanished. He deserved this second chance.
As if he was reading my thoughts, he bumped my shoulder with his. “I had fun tonight.”
I smiled at him. “I could tell. You were great up there.”
He smiled back. “Thanks.” He was quiet a moment, his voice turning pensive. “Does it bother you when I call you my wife?”
“Why would it?” I tried to read his expression, but he had his head down, his long hair obscuring my view. “I am your wife.”
He pulled me to a stop just outside of the bright lights of our resort, his dark eyes piercing me in the moonlight. “You know what I mean.”
I thought back to our conversation before we left for town, and I was still just as conflicted. “Actually, I don’t, Nico. We got married. I’m your wife. You’re my husband. It’s what we agreed to, so—”
“We didn’t agree to feelings.” I snapped my mouth shut and he cupped my jaw, his fingers forking through my loose curls. “I’m falling for my wife, and it scares the hell outta me, JJ,” he murmured, leaning in so close I could feel his heat up the front of my body. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
“You don’t mean it,” I whispered, even as I cupped my palm over his hand, holding him close.
I watched the hurt and questions dance over his face. “The first girl I say that to, and she tells me I’m full of shit? My fucking wife, no less? Damn, JJ, that’s savage.” Slowly, he backed away, his hand falling from my jaw last. “But I get it.” He shrugged and a mask of cool indifference slid in place to cover the sweet vulnerability that had just shone on his face. “This was business. Not a love match.” He raked a hand over his head and took another step toward the resort, its light now shining over him. “I’m no Brody, right?”
Pain lashed my heart, followed by a surge of white-hot fury. How dare he? “Fuck you, Nico!”
He ignored me, which only pissed me off more, strolling toward the resort like he had all the time in the world. Smiling at the front desk clerk, he sauntered toward the elevator bank and hit the button.
Not wanting to make a scene, I vibrated with rage next to him, shooting daggers at his profile as we got on the elevator together and the doors slid shut.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” I seethed the minute we were alone.
“Yeah?” He faced me calmly, his black eyes carefully blank. “At least I don’t throw people’s feelings back in their face.”
This stopped me cold and everything I might’ve said shriveled up and died in my throat. “Nico,” I whispered.
“Don’t,” he hissed, turning to face the doors as they opened and another couple boarded in front of us.
We rode in uncomfortable silence until we hit our floor, then we stepped out into the hall and walked down to our room, where Nico opened our door and let us inside.
I waited until he had the door closed and locked before I turned to him. “Nico, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Of course you did,” he cut me off. “And it was the right thing to do. Just hurt like a bitch, but I’ll be fine.”
I frowned at his back while he shrugged out of his jacket and kicked off his boots. He was really going to do this? Pretend he hadn’t said all that stuff to me about how I kept him sane along with his music? That we hadn’t shared all those earth-shattering kisses? That our marriage wasn’t... I stopped myself there. Was our marriage more than a business arrangement? Had all of our hikes and talks and audiobook listening sessions built what was supposed to be a temporary thing into something, well, more?
“Nico?” I whispered to his back.
He paused in his movements but otherwise didn’t acknowledge me as he tossed his wallet and keys to the table and moved toward the windows to stare outside.
“You’re no Brody,” I said. “You’re right about that.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t give any indication that he heard me at all, so I kicked off my shoes and padded over to stand just behind him.
“You’re twice the man he ever was, and I’m so proud you’re my husband.”
Slowly, Nico turned to look at me over his shoulder, his espresso eyes conflicted.
“I’m scared too,” I admitted, my voice breathy as he stared at me. “This could go so bad in so many ways. For you. For my career. For my heart.” I grabbed his left hand, rubbing my thumb over his ring, letting him know I recognized it was there. “This makes no sense. I know that. Yet here we are. But, Nico, you’re in therapy for a reason.” I squeezed his fingers. “I’m not judging you, I just... I don’t want to get burned.”
My heart pounded wildly while I waited for him to respond. To end this madness and tell me to go to bed because this was treading into dangerous territory that we had no business delving into. Not when we’d basically committed our marriage to a six-month death sentence.
“No wonder people quit therapy and go back to drinking,” he murmured. “This is so fucked up.”
I bit back a smile. “Yeah, well...”
He shook his head and turned back to the snowy night. “My dad wanted to be a professional musician.” He said it so quietly, I almost missed it.
“What?”
“He played drums.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes locked on something outside. “From what I heard, he was good, too. But he gave that life up when my mom got pregnant with me. Got married. Got respectable. Got bitter.”
I placed a reassuring hand on his back but didn’t say anything and gave him space to keep talking, sensing his need to get this out.
He kept his head up straight though his voice burned with emotion. “I remember the first time I saw him hit her. She burned his toast.” Dark eyes met mine in the reflection of the window. “Fucking toast.”
I stifled a gasp, tears filling my eyes. “How old were you?”
“Maybe three. She was pregnant with my brother, Angelo.”
“Did he hit you too?”
He faced me now. “What do you think?”
The tears were free-falling down my face as I stared at him, understanding his agony all the better now. My father was a lot of things, but he’d never laid a hand on me or my mother in anger. “Have you talked to Dr. Evans about this?”
“Some of it. Not everything. She thinks he projects his own shame about his lost dreams onto me or some other horseshit. Not sure how that justifies anything.”
“I don’t think she’s trying to justify his abuse.”
He froze at the word abuse, and I could see the walls silently going up. I had to act or this moment would be lost forever.
“Why tell me? Why now?”
He shrugged like it didn’t matter, though we both knew it did, more than either of us wanted to admit. “Maybe so you’d see.”
“See what?”
“That I’m tainted goods and nothing worth being proud of.”