Chapter 18 #2
“You told me he was at your place doing laundry , Desmond. Laundry and playing video games with Parker,” he grits out, sounding as though he’s talking through clenched teeth.
“And that’s true. All that’s changed is that last weekend we discussed the possibility of things becoming?—”
“Did you coerce him into quitting the team?” he asks, voice cutting across mine.
Stung, I try to keep the composure I’ve been able to maintain, even though what I really want to do is beg him to believe me.
Nico isn’t that much older than me, but while he gives off “real adult” vibes, I feel barely proficient.
He’s also my mate. I don’t want him to be angry with me.
“No, of course not,” I reply softly.
He shakes his head, looking at me in mute disbelief. Drou, still sitting on the floor, warm against my leg, lets out a low moan, as though reading the emotion of the room. I rub his ears, partly for his comfort, but mostly for mine.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with this, Desmond,” Nico says angrily, standing up suddenly and startling Drou.
He barks, trotting toward the closed door, apparently thinking a walk is happening.
Instead, Nico slips between the desks and tries to pace the small office, hand smoothing down his chest the way he does when he’s got a tie on.
I try to control the waver in my voice as I talk.
“Jack was struggling, we both know that. I didn’t convince him to quit so that I could date him.
In fact, that wasn’t even something that had ever crossed my mind until a few weeks ago, well after he was off the team.
He was, first and foremost, a player and a friend.
Now, things have changed, and I’m coming to you in an effort to be transparent. ”
“I’m going to talk to Micky,” he warns. I sigh, but nod, having known that was coming. Drou snuffles at the hem of his pants as he stops pacing and contemplates me with hands on hips. “If this ends up being?—”
“It won’t.” It’s my turn to cut him off, not needing or wanting to hear the end of that sentence. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I promise you, nothing happened. Nothing beyond what you already knew about, and agreed was fine. ”
Nico’s nose flares as he breathes out hard, unhappy having his words thrown back at him, no matter how gently I’d said them.
“I agreed it was fine that he use your washing machine and babysit your kid, Desmond, I did not agree that you could fu—” He cuts off and turns his face away, jaw clenched tight. It doesn’t matter, I heard the unspoken word and know how that sentence was going to finish.
I feel a sudden and intense pain of sympathy for Jack, knowing exactly how mortified he’s going to be when Nico asks him whether I convinced him to quit the team while I fucked him.
“It’s time for a walk,” Nico says sharply, and so forcefully it takes me a second to figure out he’s talking about the puppy and not threatening me with walking papers.
“Okay, I can?—”
“No. I’ll take him. I need to take a second to think, and I can’t do that in this room. I can’t do that with you here, because, right now, I want to kill you.”
Mutely, I watch as he gathers Drou’s leash and tries to clip it on the wiggling puppy. His shoulders are visibly tense beneath his shirt, and he keeps his back to me as he leaves, not turning around as the door slams behind him.
That went well, my sister tells me, as I prop my elbows on the desk and drop my face into my hands. That did not go well at all.
For the remainder of the week, Nico treats me to a chilly silence.
When he speaks to me, it’s in a clipped, businesslike tone, completely at odds with the warm, almost familial way he spoke to me prior.
He’s polite and isn’t ignoring me, but the difference between then and now is striking.
I have been very summarily bumped from friend down to coworker.
And not a coworker he is particularly fond of, evidently.
When I ask questions—as I’ve always done—about Anthony or Drou, he responds with single-word answers, usually without looking away from whatever he’s working on.
After three days of this, I realize just how much I’d come to appreciate working with him, and just how much I’ll miss the comradery if it’s gone for good.
Checking my phone, I see that I’ve got fifteen minutes before I need to leave to pick up Parker.
It’s Friday—my early quit day, granted by Nico—and school gets out a little sooner than usual.
Saving the file I’d been working on and dropping a flag to save my spot in the video I’ve been reviewing for the last two hours, I begin packing up.
The sound of Nico drumming his fingers on the wood desktop draws my eyes over to him. He’s staring at his computer screen, jaw clenched tightly enough I worry it’ll set off a migraine. Which would, I imagine, only make him more appreciative of me, at the moment.
“I’m speaking to Micky, today,” he says tersely.
“I know,” I agree. Jack had asked me to tell him exactly what I wanted him to say, which I’d explained was the very worst thing I could do.
I’d told him to just be truthful, and everything would be fine.
I’m still working on believing it myself, but he doesn’t need to know that.
I don’t need to give Jack any more reasons to be stressed.
Nico rubs at his eyes with thumb and forefinger, before pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Anthony thinks I was too hard on you,” he admits, sounding a touch annoyed. I wait, assuming there is a “but” following that statement. Nico adds, “But he’s wrong.”
Since I happen to agree with Anthony, I keep my mouth shut. Nico spears a look at me, clearly reading my silence for exactly what it is.
“Do you need anything before I head out?” I ask, willing to do literally anything as long as it helps toward putting me back in his good graces.
“No,” he says on a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I glance back at him, hovering in the hallway. He’s staring blankly at his computer screen, lost in thought. Quietly, I leave, thoughts turning toward Jack.