Nico looks around and nods.
“What else?”
I step around the area, a million different ideas flickering in my mind as I point to the middle of the patio.
“Maybe a firepit? One of those gas ones or something with the glass rocks? That would be really pretty and would be a nice conversation hub.”
My hand traces over the slate grey couch as I shake my head.
“I hate to say it, but this all should go too.”
Nico frowns at that. “Why?”
I shake my head. “This place is a historical gold mine. It’s a moment of history frozen in time and you’re watering it down with millennial grey,” I tease.
He scoffs at that as I shake my head. “Think warm colors. Browns, creams, nudes. Maybe a pop of greens or reds here or there.”
My head keeps swiveling around, more and more ideas bubbling to the surface before I realize Nico hasn’t responded, and I’ve no doubt offended him like a complete asshole. I mean, this place has to be worth several million dollars and I live at home with my parents. Who the hell am I to judge anyone?
When I look to him, though, I don’t find judgment or irritation. Instead, he’s watching me with a considering eye as he nods.
“I like it, your vision. It seems nice. Warm.”
I nod. “I’d always take a nice cozy house over a sleek modern place any day of the year.”
“Yeah, me too. I think that’s why I couldn’t let this place go.”
“So, what? You just sit on it for fun? Bring your ladies of the night here?” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows, though, I’m only partially kidding.
Nico gives me a flat look before he closes the distance between us, running his fingers through my hair like he seems to always do. He does it so often I’m starting to wonder what the driving force behind it is. Is it the control? The connection? Or maybe he just has a kink for red curly hair.
“You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”
My teasing smile falters as I look at him seriously.
“How long have you had this place for?”
“Seven years,” he says steadily.
Seven years. He’s had this place longer than he’s even known Carly, and he never brought her here. Yet, he brought me here the instant we touched down in Boston. I’m trying not to read more into it, but fuck, he’s making it really hard not to.
“Wow, if you’re not careful you’re going to make me feel like I’m special or something,” I tease.
“You are,” he answers quicker than I ever would have imagined.
My throat tightens and I do my best to swallow through it before clearing my throat. Nico seems to sense my unease and he slowly unwinds his hand in my hair, placing a chaste kiss to my lips before he speaks.
“So, let’s see what we can do about getting you some clothes and that toothbrush.”
Yeah. Some clothes and a toothbrush my ass. Silly me, why did I assume that when he said we were going shopping for some essentials, that we’d be going to the local grocery store or something. No, this man takes us to Newburry Street. At first, I didn’t know what that meant. It only took us passing by four luxury brand name stores for me to piece it together, though. We even walked by a sign that literally said the “Rodeo Drive of the East Coast”.
After three bags from Chanel, two from Prada and four from Dior, I call it.
“Okay, what’s the deal?” I ask as I’m standing on basically a runway in the dressing room of the Versace store.
“Hm?” Nico asks as he glances up from his phone.
“Why are you buying me enough clothes to outfit an army? You know I’m already sleeping with you, right? You don’t have to try hard anymore.”
