I go to take another sip of my drink, but the can’s empty, and there’s no way I’m asking for another one.
“I did… I did try to stand up for you.” My voice is barely above a whisper. I feel a little pathetic. “I tried. But no one listened.”
Nikolo leans forward, his elbows braced wide on the table. “Of course they didn’t. I didn’t expect you to defend me, Willan. Like I said, you were just a kid.”
Jaw set, I raise my eyes from where they are staring a hole in the table to meet his. “A year, Nikolo. You’re one year older than me. If I was a kid, you were, too.”
Pain slashes through Nikolo’s eyes, and I almost regret my words. What I regret more is that there is no way for me to comfort him. Despite my hand desperately itching to reach out and grab his, to reassure him, I don’t. I’m too scared he’ll snatch his hand away and reject me again.
“That may be so, but it doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done.”
“And so that’s it? We just…” I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Neither does Nikolo, with the way he cocks his head. I try again, but it gets worse before it gets better. “So… so what do we do? About us? Finn and Kai. Our friends are together. We will see each other inevitably. I don’t want it to be awkward when we do.”
“Okay.” Nikolo leans back. Even though he’s giving me nothing, I hate the distance.
“I think it would be cool if we were, you know, friends again. Or something.”
Nikolo's lips round over his teeth like he’s trying really hard to stop himself from smiling.
“I’ve got friends, Willanator.” He busts out the annoying nickname from back in the day, and I want to just evaporate into the ether.
“Fine, fuck you. Whatever. I?—”
“Friends sounds good.” He cuts me off, actually smiling this time, and it’sblinding.
My heart races, and my stomach swoops as a shiver skitters over my skin. Nikolo’s nostrils flare almost imperceptibly, and I can’t be sure, but I swear he can sense it all happening to me. Because of him.
“Okay. I kind of thought it would be harder than that… So, no more shit like at Hearts Gate?” I ask, trying not to wince.
Nikolo doesn’t hold his back. “No. No more shit like that. And because it’s the fucking night for it.” He grimaces, wiping a hand wearily over his face. “I’m sorry. I was… going through some shit. I was rude. It wasn’t fair.”
Even though he’s kind of right, I shake my head. “No. It’s fine. I ambushed you. And ignored your boundaries.”
Nikolo’s eyes drag over me, his fangs digging into his lip. If it were anyone else, I’d think they were checking me out. But Nikolo just exudes sex; it’s probably unconscious.
“Why don’t we agree we’re both sorry, and draw a line in the sand? It’s done. It’s over. I just… I just want to move forward, you know?”
“Okay.” I nod and I’m rewarded with another smile. “But does that mean that I can ask about the past, or is that off limits now? Because I can’t lie, I’m dying to know everything you got up to between then and now.”
Nikolo chuckles, easing back in his chair so far it forces his legs to stretch out until his boot taps mine and our ankles areresting against one another. He probably doesn’t notice through the layers of leather and fabric.
“Nah, happy to share. What do you want to know?”
Everything feels like too much of an ask. I wasn’t kidding that I’m dying to know every little detail of his life. I’m ravenous for all the pieces of him that I missed of the man I spent my childhood believing was my future.
“Where’d you go first? And where did you meet your maker? And how? Did you travel? Where did you go?”
NIKOLO
It’s beena week and a bit since I pulled my head out of my ass, which equals nine shifts at Bloody Temptations since I apologised at the staff meeting. I’m getting close to balancing out the total number of shifts I messed around on and I’m still getting approving looks when I ‘responsibly’ make my way out the back to the staff room for my breaks.
Specifically doing italone, and not with a customer. I might have only done it once—or maybe twice? The disputed second occasions involved a couple of rapid fire shots. I don’t remember inviting them so much as them following me and me doing nothing about it which is just as bad. But it was one—or two—times too many. Screwing around in the storeroom is one thing, but the staff room is where we all keep our shit while we’re on shift. Lifo raged for nights about me putting their privacy at risk.
I wave to Erod, one of the security guards, as I pass and smile at his approving up-nod. The staff here may still be wary that the flip that switched, the one that turned me into a dickbag for two weeks, might be ready to switch back on at any moment, but theyhavebeen pretty forgiving about it all. There’s been a lot of backslapping and jokes, but the jokes have feltwith meand notat me. And most of them have been centred around the dumb shit they’ve done to make me feel better.
It couldn’t be any more different to the way I grew up in the clan, and the whole experience kind of feels like it’s healing some scars I didn’t know I was carrying. It feels… good. Really fucking good.
With only fifteen minutes until I have to go out, I snag a blood from the mini fridge and grab my phone from my locker before throwing myself on the staff room couch.
