Chapter 13 #2
“Nico. What’s all this?”
At the sound of my voice, Nico spins to face me. He tries to hide his guilty expression but doesn’t quite manage it. “What do you mean?” he asks innocently. “I said I was going to order some food.”
“Some food,” I agree. “I thought that meant sandwiches. Or salad. But this”—I gesture at the dining room table behind him—“doesn’t look like some food. It looks like you’re stocking up for the apocalypse.”
Nico glances at the food spread across the table. “I don’t think it’s that much, Sofia.”
“Fine, not the actual apocalypse. But are you expecting us to get snowed in? Is a Nor’easter coming through?”
“I don’t think we’re supposed to get a storm,” he replies. But to verify, he whips out his phone and taps the screen a few times. “Nope. No winter storms. It’s actually supposed to hit fifty by tomorrow.”
As my gaze moves across the table, I count at least thirty takeout containers. With a laugh, I ask, “Where did you order from? Half of Manhattan?”
Because somehow, in the time it took for me to have coffee and take a shower, we now have enough food to host a wedding for fifty. Possibly more.
As Nico starts opening the containers, he replies, “Not even close. This is only four restaurants. I just wanted to make sure I got food you liked.” He removes the lid of one to reveal three different sushi rolls and adds, “I know what you used to like. And the things you’ve made here. But I wasn’t sure—”
“Ooh, you got a Philadelphia roll?” My interest in teasing him disappears in the face of freshly-made sushi. I lean over Nico’s arm to look at it. “And spicy shrimp?”
He grins. “Yes. Even though I still stand by my claim that Philadelphia rolls aren’t real sushi.”
“Of course they’re real.” I snatch up a piece of sushi and pop it into my mouth. “I wouldn’t be eating it if it wasn’t, would I?”
Nico’s smile doesn’t falter. “Sushi isn’t supposed to have cream cheese in it.” He continues opening up the cartons, revealing more sushi, nori chips with dip, and an enormous serving of miso soup.
Snagging a piece of spicy shrimp roll, I hum with pleasure as I eat it. Sushi from Sushi Galore in Hoboken doesn’t compare to this. Not even close.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want sushi,” he says, “so I ordered Italian, too. And brunch stuff. Plus, I got some subs if you’re in the mood. Or we could order something else. Whatever you want.”
“I love sushi. And is that—” I peer around his shoulder at the food he’s revealing. “Did you order eggplant parm?”
“It doesn’t really go with sushi, I know. But whatever you’re not in the mood for, we can stick in the fridge for later. In case we end up getting a Nor’easter or the apocalypse ends up happening.”
“Hopefully not.” I swat his arm. “I think I’ve had enough crumminess already this month.”
Nico stills. Then he turns to face me again. His expression is stricken. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of it.”
And there goes my heart again.
This time, it’s urging me to comfort him.
But really, why not? It’s not like I’m the only one who’s had a rough time lately.
Yes, my experience has been significantly worse, what with three failed attempts on my life.
But Nico had his ex-girlfriend basically flung in his face.
He put himself in danger to protect me not once, but twice.
And he just found out that his father’s been lying to him for the last eighteen years.
“You’re fine.” I put my hand on his biceps. And holy crap, are they big. I mean, intellectually, I knew they were. I’ve seen them. He had his arms around me yesterday. But actually touching them, feeling the contradiction of hard muscle to soft skin…
Nico’s eyes heat as he looks at me. The light blue deepens. His jaw works. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I decide to keep my hand there a little longer. For… balance. Yes. Because I’m still recovering from a concussion. So I should hang onto sturdy things just in case I get dizzy. That makes total sense. “I’m sure.”
With his free arm, he grabs a large white box from the other side of the table. “I got these for dessert. I remember you used to love them.”
And there.
There’s that vulnerability again.
There’s the Nico who doesn’t run a successful company. Who didn’t serve as a freaking Delta Force operator, which online research and that memoir I’m reading has told me is pretty much the most badass thing you could be.
No. This is the Nico who wants to make me happy. Who still remembers my favorite things. Who, deep down, isn’t as confident as he lets people think he is.
He’s hurting, too, I remind myself. But he’s still trying.
Another layer of ice melts from my heart.
Then I glance at the contents of the white box, and my heart thaws completely.
Past the sudden lump in my throat, I ask, “You got red velvet cupcakes?”
“Not just red velvet.” He nods at the rows of frosted cupcakes lined up inside. “I got six red velvet, and six other kinds. So you could choose. But I remember how much you loved them…”
I did. I still do.
And even after eighteen years, he never forgot.
Tears threaten again, but I force them back.
That irritating voice of logic whispers, He could hurt you again.
Shut up, I tell it. He could. But so can a lot of things. That doesn’t mean I never try them.
“Nico.” My voice is huskier than I’ve heard it in a very long time. “I love them. And thank you. For getting all this. For protecting me. For letting me stay here. Just… thank you.”
He blinks. “You don’t have to thank me, Sofia. It’s the least I can do.”
I take the box from his hands and set it back on the table. Still holding his gaze, I ask, “Is that all it is? Because you feel like you should?”
He shakes his head quickly. “No. Of course not.”
“Then why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why get all this? Why buy the puzzles? Why let me stay here? Why go through all this effort to protect me when you don’t have to?”
Nico takes a step closer to me. “Because I want to.” He pauses. “Because I want you to be happy. Safe. I don’t trust anyone else to protect you. Not like I would.”
“But why?” I press. “Why would you do it better than one of your employees?”
“Because…” He takes my hands. “Because I still care about you. I tried to shut it away. I told myself we’d both moved on. But seeing you… being with you again. It’s like I found something I lost. I lost you, Soph. And it’s never been the same without you.”
“Nico.”
“I know it’s stupid, thinking I have a chance to fix things. Not after what I did. But I guess I just hoped if I could make you happy, if I could prove myself, maybe—”
I grab the back of his neck and pull his head down to mine.
Our lips crash together.
His hand comes to my back, pulling me close.
Sparks burst through my body, lighting me aflame.
My heart pounds so hard I’m breathless from it.
Nico makes a low growl in the back of his throat. His erection juts into my belly, hard and insistent.
His fingers tunnel through my hair as he tilts my head back to take the kiss even deeper.
It’s not slow or gentle. It’s not the tentative kiss of two teenagers still learning about each other.
It’s passionate. Desperate. Hungry.
He teases my mouth open and plunges inside, stroking my tongue with his.
My body is a chaos of sensation. Everything about Nico hits me all at once.
How he smells, like trees and sunshine.
How he feels, his big body pressed so close against mine.
The sounds he makes; deep, rumbly notes that go straight to my core.
The way he looks at me, like he can’t believe I’m here.
How his mouth tastes like honey and cinnamon and mint, a combination that doesn’t seem like it would make sense, but does.
And how I feel kissing him.
Like the broken parts of my heart are healing.
Oh, how I missed him. I didn’t want to. But I did.
I’m lightheaded from lack of air by the time we break apart. Nico wraps his arms around me and holds me to him. His heart is racing, just like mine.
He gazes at me for several seconds, emotion running deep in his eyes. “Was that okay?” he finally asks. “Did I fuck things up by kissing you? I wasn’t trying to rush—”
“Nico.” I stroke his bristly cheek. “I kissed you, remember?”
His cheeks go pink. “Oh. Right. You did.”
“Did I fuck up by kissing you?”
“No. No. Not even for a second.” He stops. “Does that mean…”
You know you want to, my heart whispers.
“What you said? About me giving you a chance?”
“Yes?”
“I will. Give you a chance. If you still want it.”
He lets out a held breath. “Yes.” He kisses me again, a tender caress this time. “Yes, Sofia. I do. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t regret it.”