And I’ve been so caught up in my insecurities, I forgot to be honest with him about how I feel.
I know the answer to Nico’s question, but I pause for a moment longer to analyze the deeper question.Do I like Nico?
Yes. Undoubtedly. Overwhelmingly.
“Of course, I would’ve taken care of you,” I say, turning toward him and shifting closer on the couch. “I would’ve done exactly what you did for me.”
His whole body melts free from tension.
Sighing, I lean my head against the back of the couch. “I hate that I made you question that.”
He gives me a smile. “As long as it's a real answer, I don't care.”
I look down, fidgeting with a blanket thread. “It's a real answer. And I'm glad you didn't get sick.” But then a memory appears through the haze of last night and I look up at him. “Wait, was someone else here last night? Or did I dream that?”
Nico shoots me an unsure look. “My brother came over.”
I blink at him. “Okay... Why?”
He nods at my arm. “He gave you an IV.”
I look, wide-eyed, at the inside of my arm. I wouldn't have noticed it among all the other aches and pains, but...there's a slight bruise on the inside of my elbow.
“I'm sorry I didn't ask your permission first,” Nico rushes to say. “If you had been conscious, I would've. But you were so dehydrated, and you wouldn't stop throwing up, and I was getting really fucking worried. So, I called him.”
“Does he work in healthcare?” I ask Nico.
He shakes his head. “Military. He was a Marine. But he has enough medical training that sometimes I call him for IVs when I'm dehydrated from training.”
I nod.That makes sense, I guess.
“I'm fine with you calling him,” I find myself admitting. I look up to meet his eyes. “Thank you for doing that. For taking such good care of me.”
Another exhale of relief. I hate that I stress him out.
“And please thank him for me,” I add. “Actually...”
I look around Nico's living room, reality intruding for the first time since yesterday.Where did I drop my purse?
When I spot it in the entryway, I rush to grab it. I carry enough cash that?—
“Absolutely not,” comes Nico's voice from behind me.
I spin, a wad of cash in my hand. “I can'tnotpay him. At the very least, I need to cover the cost of the IV.”
But Nico is shaking his head as he stands from the couch. “Absolutely not. If it was mine, you wouldn't pay me for it, would you?”
My brow furrows. “But it's not. It's your brother's.”
“So? We're family. We take care of each other.”
That doesn't clarify anything. My experience with family is entirely selfish.
My confusion must be obvious because when Nico reaches me, he sighs and takes the cash from my hand. And then he slides it back in my purse.
“I don't know how your family operated,” he says gently, correctly reading my reaction, “but inmyfamily, we do everything we can to love and support each other. And that extends to the people and things we consider important.”
My chest warms.I'm important to him.
