He didn't.
"The truth is ugly a lot with you," I say.
"Yes." No apology. No softening. Just acknowledgment.
I lean into his palm, letting his warmth seep into my skin.
"What kind of connections?" I ask.
"The kind that make problems disappear."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting right now." His thumb traces my cheekbone. "You don't need to know how the sausage gets made. You just need to know that Lily stays with you. End of discussion."
End of discussion.
"He'll fight dirty," I warn. "He'll bring up every mistake I've ever made. Every job I lost. Every?—"
"Let him." Nico's voice drops, dark and dangerous. "Let him bring whatever he wants. It won't change the outcome."
"You sound so sure."
"I am sure." He pulls me closer until our foreheads touch. "I told you I'd handle this. I meant it."
My eyes burn. I've spent so long fighting alone. Scraping by. Surviving on fumes and desperation and the knowledge that no one was coming to save me.
Now this man—this dangerous, complicated, infuriating man—is telling me I don't have to fight alone anymore.
"Why?" The question escapes before I can stop it. "Why do you care so much?"
Nico's jaw works. For a long moment, he doesn't answer.
Then: "I don't know."
Three words. Raw. Honest.
The ugliest truth of all.
Nico
She's halfway out of bed when I catch her wrist.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Kristen freezes, one leg already swung over the edge of the mattress. The sheet slips, revealing the curve of her hip, the soft indent of her waist. My fingers tighten before I can stop myself.
"Lily—"
"Is still sleeping." I tug gently, and she tumbles back against the pillows with a surprised exhale. "Stay."
It's not a request. I don't make requests.
Kristen props herself up on one elbow, grey-blue eyes searching my face. Her hair is a mess and there's a mark blooming on her collarbone where my mouth got greedy. Also my fault. I'm not sorry about either.
"Nico." She says my name like she's testing the weight of it. "What happens between us now?"
What I want to tell her is that I'd keep her in this bed for a week straight. That I want to memorize every sound she makes, every way her body responds when I touch her. That I've neverwanted to worship someone before, never understood the word until her back arched and she gasped my name like a prayer.
