And he’s everything I’ve ever wanted but was too scared to hope for.
Sliding the picture very carefully into my wallet, I quickly grab my keys and close the door behind me. I need to see him. I don’t care about our fight at the gala. I see now that it was his fear talking when he said what he did. Knowing he loved me, knowing what itfeels liketo love someone, I can’t blame him for reacting the way he did. I don’t want to.
Maybe that’s the biggest thing I’ve learned from Nico. That when you love someone…trusting is easy.
And I’m ready to trust him.
FORTY-ONE
NICO
Someone’s knocking at my front door.
It’s 9 p.m. on a Tuesday, and I’m sitting on my couch, trying to distract myself by scrolling mindlessly on social media. Unfortunately, I keep getting clips from last week’sDancing With The Starsepisode, which just makes me think of Scarlett. The sound of the knock is a welcome distraction.
When I look through the peep hole and see Scarlett, I do a triple take.
She’s here? Right now?
It never occurred to me that she might come back to me. Even as I packaged the gifts, and handwrote the notes, I never let myself think about a future with her in it. It was too painful, too much to hope for.
But now… Now, she’s standing at my front door.
I have no idea which way this is about to go, but after taking a deep breath, I open the door.
“Scarlett,” I breathe.
She looks different. She’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, for one, and her hair looks like it might be a different shade. And she’s only wearing a little bit of makeup—no red lips.
“Hi, Nico,” she says with a careful smile. “Can we talk?”
I almost trip over my feet to stand aside and wave her in. “Of course. Come in.”
I can’t take my eyes off her as she steps into my apartment. I’m trying desperately to get a read on her, on why she’shere, but she’s on guard enough that I can’t quite make it out. The one thing that makes me feel better is that she doesn’t seem angry.
Stopping in the middle of my living room, she spins and asks casually, “So, how has your week been?”
I must still be in shock because I immediately answer, “Good, it’s been good.” And then her question—and the oddness of it—registers, and I shake my head. “This feels too reminiscent of our first few dates; it’s kind of blowing my mind a little.”
Scarlett lets out a laugh. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m a little nervous.”
That finally gives me the sign I need to move a little bit closer to her. “Why are you nervous?” I ask, my tone softening.
Her eyes are big, her nerves obvious now. “Because I’ve never done this before,” she whispers.
God, I just want to hug her.“Done what, baby? Why are you here?”
Sucking in a breath for courage, she looks up into my eyes. “To ask you if you meant what you said in all those notes.”
“OfcourseI did.” It rushes out of me as I step forward and take her in my arms. “I meant every single word, Scarlett.”
She gives me a tiny nod, but I’m just thankful she’s accepting my embrace. “And just to clarify, did you mean what you said the night of the gala?”
“No. Scarlett, I swear on my brothers’ lives that I didn’t mean any of that. I…” I swallow roughly and admit, “I was just in love with you and terrified.” Then, quieter, “It was my insecurities talking, and I hate myself for ever letting you hear those words.”
Another nod, but this time, she wraps her arms around my neck.
“Okay, then. I love you, too.”
