“So no, you're not allowed to pay him for taking care of you after I asked him to. He wouldn't accept the money, anyway.”
As Nico leads me back to the couch, something else occurs to me. “What does your other brother do? If you're a fighter, and the other brother is ex-military, what job does the third one have? Hockey player? Firefighter? What?”
I'm relieved to hear him chuckle again as he sets us down on the couch again. “I'm going to tell him you said that. He'll bebutthurt for a week to know those are the jobs that match mine and Alexander's.”
My cheeks heat. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. It was just a guess?—”
“Baby,” he says with another chuckle, “He's not even here, and you're worried about hurting his feelings. He's my brother; I have to mess with him.”
I never would'vedreamedof joking with my family.
“Lucas is a high-powered lawyer,” Nico finally answers.
My head rears back. “How did that happen? That's a big difference in careers.”
Shrugging, he relaxes into the couch and stretches his arms out along the back of it. “We have no idea. He was always a charmer when he was a kid, so the litigator piece didn't really surprise any of us. That boy could talk his way out of anything even when he was eight years old. Drove our mother crazy.”
When he chuckles fondly, I find myself smiling at the story. I like hearing about his childhood.
“What kind of law does he practice?” I ask.
“He's a corporate lawyer,” Nico answers. “Alexander and I like to joke that he makes rich bastards richer.”
I frown. “That doesn't sound very noble.”
He snorts. “Which is why the firefighter guess was so funny.”
I look out at the windows for a moment, taking in the Philly skyline and the setting sun that's illuminating it. This city really is beautiful. This entire date feels like a fever dream.
And I never want to wake up.
TWENTY-FOUR
SCARLETT
We keep the conversation light for the rest of the night.
I manage to convince Nico to put some of his fights on. I want to know more about him, and I want to ask questions about the sport. It takes him a minute to agree, at first pushing for me to pick a movieIwant to watch, but I’m adamant about it. Once he sees how invested I am, he relaxes.
It’s…fascinating. I can’t wrap my head around why anyone would want to do MMA. My mother would’ve disowned me for bringing home a fighter. She probably would’ve assumed he was a dumb, tattooed brute and kicked him out of the house.
But as I listen to Nico break down his strategy and some of the techniques, I realize he’s far smarter than I’m sure people give him credit for.
“Do you enjoy fighting?” I ask, suddenly remembering our conversation that first night.
There’s a thoughtful pause as he finishes cleaning up the last of our dinner trash. “I don’t think enjoy is the word I would use,” he answers, lips pinching. “There’s a very specific type of fighter whoenjoysgetting locked in a cage with a man who wants to kill him. But I guess I enjoy the training.”
I snuggle deeper into the cushions, wanting to know everything. “Do you ever think about retiring?”
He gives me that look from earlier again, that one I couldn’t read.
Then he glances away as he clears his throat. “Sometimes, yeah.” He fidgets with the napkin in his hands. “More and more, it seems silly to be doing something I’m not totally invested in. Dangerous, too.”
That has me freezing, worry covering me like a cold blanket. “It’s evenmoredangerous when your head’s not in it?”
He shrugs and walks back to the couch. “Well…yeah. Any sport would be.”
“Then you should definitely retire,” I press. “You can’t put yourself at risk like that.”
