Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
I stared at him and his…everything. Just…
freaking…everything. And I might have drooled a little bit.
In fact, I know I did, because I felt a bit of drool fall to my arm.
It was enough to wake me from the Nico domestic porn trance.
I wiped my arm and hand on the pants of my scrubs and—with every ounce of self-control I had—I tore my gaze from him and his… fritters.
As luck would have it, Nico appeared to notice me at the exact same moment. “Hey, Elizabeth. Want a fritter?”
“Uh, nope.” I noted that the color of the kitchen walls were pale grey.
He crossed to me holding a golden pastry. “Sure you do.” I lifted my eyes at his approach and was slapped in the face with the unrealness and unfairness of his perfect physique.
“No. I’m good. Really.” I turned slightly and backed up, unthinkingly trapping myself between the island counter and the sink.
He lifted the pastry to my mouth and said, “Open up.”
I leaned backward over the sink, my arms flailing, and forced him to stop his advance. “Hey buddy, you want to…put that junk away?”
Nico glanced down at his black boxer briefs. “What are you talking about?”
“The torso of magnificence and thighs of splendor. You want to cover up?”
Nico placed the fritter on the counter to his side; his other hand rested on his chest and he issued me a soporific smile.
“Torso of magnificence?” His hand moved down the front of his chest, over the ridged plane of his abdomen then slowed just above the elastic of his briefs and hovered there.
I watched the movement of his hand as though it were a snake ready to strike… .
Bad, bad, bad analogy!
“Am I distracting you, Elizabeth?”
“No, no you’re not. You’re just—you just shouldn’t walk around half or mostly naked when people are out and about. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Do you have a problem with male nudity?”
“I don’t have a problem with male nudity.” I shook my head. “I have a problem with your male nudity—in this apartment.”
“This is my apartment.”
“Yes, I know. But there are women and children in this apartment, in the other room watching cartoons.”
“She’s my niece.”
“I know that.”
“And my mother.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that fact as well, but I’m not related to you.”
“No, you’re not, are you?” His grin was less lazy and more focused
“No…I’m not.” I was trapped in his gaze for a moment, and I might have swayed forward a few inches before catching myself and averting my eyes.
“I’m not, and we’ve already established that fact, and I’m going to leave the kitchen now.
” I tried to move past him but he shifted to the side; my arm made contact with his bare chest, and I recoiled as though burned.
“Well, let me just get out of your way,” he said though he purposefully filled the entire space between the two counters, ensuring that I would have to touch him and his torso of magnificence—if not his thighs of splendor—in order to pass.
“Very nice…very nice….” I rolled my eyes at his antics and attempted to navigate a path through the small space without rubbing against his impressively proportioned and well chiseled body.
“You know, maybe you would be more comfortable if you took your clothes off.” Nico shifted and caught me against the counter between his arms; his hands rested on either side of my hips.
“I think if you took your shirt off, then you wouldn’t feel like things are so uneven.
” He was the only person I’d ever met who could swagger while standing still.
“Would you please just—please just move out of my way.”
“I mean, you don’t have to take your bra off; you could just take your shirt off.”
“Oh, really? Did you want me to administer the infusion to Angelica with no clothes on? Would that be appropriate behavior?”
His grin intensified. “Elizabeth, I can think of many things I want you to do without your clothes on, but administering an infusion to my niece is near the bottom of the list.”
“Oh? Ok, what other things can you think of that would be near the bottom of the list?”
“Let’s talk about the top of the list.”
“No.” I forgot for a moment that I was trapped, and found myself thoroughly enjoying the unexpected turn of our conversation. “I want to talk about the bottom of the list first.”
“Ok…at the bottom of the list of things I want Elizabeth Finney to do with no clothes on is…” Nico glanced at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused as though deep in thought, then he abruptly returned them to me. “…Hug another guy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. That’s near the bottom of the list.”
I placed my index finger on my chin. “Well, what about…washing a car?”
“No, no—that’s high on the list. Very, very high.”
“Oh, it is?”
“Lower on the list would be something like cleaning up poop.”
An involuntary laugh burst forth. “Ok. I can see that. I can see why that wouldn’t be so great.”
“How about you?”
“How about me what?”
“What would you like me to do with no clothes on?” His eyes were intense and intent as they searched mine.
Heat swelled within me, and I knew—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that he wasn’t asking; he was offering. I held my breath and knew that any response would likely result in us getting naked on the counter.
Teetering on the precipice of ruin, I was sure he saw the silent answer to his offer.
I was sure because it was plainly observable in my eyes, my shallow breathing, my parted lips, and the thundering of my heart.
However, just as his fingers slipped under my shirt and brushed against my stomach, Rose’s voice sounded from just beyond the kitchen.
“Elizabeth, it’s almost six, and I think Angelica is awake enough for you to start.”
We quite literally jumped apart. I jumped up onto the counter and sat very awkwardly on the edge of the sink, and Nico jumped to the far side of the kitchen, back to his station by the apple fritter assembly line.
I can’t say with certainty whether he managed to accomplish the task with one giant leap, but I do know that one minute his knuckles were searing my skin, and the next minute he was across the room spooning apple goo into dough.
Rose shuffled in, still in her bathrobe, and meandered to the coffee pot.
“I turned on another cartoon, just until the procedure is over. I think I’ll send her back to bed after we’re done.
” Rose, either purposely ignoring the tension in the room with an impressive display of acting ability or completely blind to it, sleepily moved to the refrigerator and pulled out some cream.
Meanwhile, in an attempt to surreptitiously rein in my rapid heart and raging hormones, I pointedly stared at the counter across from me and counted the number of spatulas in the utensil container. There were eight. Who would ever need eight spatulas?
I was not looking at Nico and his flawless olive skin. I wasn’t looking at the gracefulness of his movements, the way his back muscles bunched and flowed, or the fact that he had the most perfect man-butt in the history of all time.
Period. End of story. Goodnight.
“Lizzybella, where is your coffee? Do you want cream?” Rose was suddenly standing in front of me, eyeing me with open concern.
I blinked at her dumbly, then released the breath I’d been holding for maybe over a minute. Gingerly, my feet touched the ground as I slipped off the edge of the sink.
“I….” I released another breath. It was audibly shaky.
She glanced between Nico and me and muttered in Italian, “Chi ha l’amore nel petto, ha lo sprone nei fianchi.”1
Nico’s shoulders tensed.
I frowned. “Pardon me?”
“Are you feeling well?” Rose pressed her hand to my forehead.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Without turning around, Nico joined the conversation. “I was just asking her the same thing. She looks hot.” He stressed the T, and I was immediately frustrated by the calm in his voice and the double meaning of his words.
Freaking Nico!
“I’m fine.” I said and politely refused Rose’s offer of cream. “I don’t take anything in my coffee.”
“Hmm. Nico takes his black too. I can’t drink it like that. I need it a little sweet.”
“Elizabeth is already sweet,” Nico mumbled, just loud enough for us to hear, and my chest constricted at his lovely sincerity. I wanted to evaporate and disappear. I hated that he did this to me.
“Yes she is. She is an angel.”
Rose’s agreement caused me to groan inwardly. The blood pumping in my veins felt anything but angelic. It felt downright sinful.
Anxious to leave my fan club, I ducked my head, darted around Rose, and said over my shoulder, “I better get started.”
“What about your coffee?” Rose called after me.
“I’m wide awake!”
Nico caught my eye as I passed. Instead of a smug smile, his features were solemn and sober, and his eyes were hot with intent and promise.
It stung me with an awareness that lingered and made me cognizant of where the worn cotton touched my skin, and it was the reason I took a cold shower as soon as I returned to my apartment.
My palms were actually sweaty as I approached the penthouse for the 2:00 pm infusion. I needed to never be alone in the same room with Nico ever again. My skin was still on fire, and I was honestly worried what I would do if presented with any opportunity to maul him.
But when I entered, he was nowhere in sight. Angelica was coloring, Rose was knitting, but Nico—Rose explained—was out with Quinn, Janie’s fiancé. This thought made me frown.
Quinn and Nico, roaming around Chicago together…no good could come of it.
Rose invited me to stay and knit, but I hastily declined.
I administered the infusion, conducted Angelica’s daily exam, then rushed out of the penthouse, worried that I might run into Nico if I dawdled.
Arriving back to my apartment, coming face-to-face with the silence of solitude, I immediately regretted not staying with Rose and Angelica.