I made two sandwiches, thinking he might appear after he...er...finished, and sat on the couch to eat.
When he appeared a few minutes later, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, he noticed the sandwich on the counter.
“This for me?”
“Mmm hmm,” I said, chewing.
He strode over and sat beside me. Taking a bite, he smiled as he chewed. “It’s good,” he said after swallowing. “Thanks.”
“Sure. How was your workout?”
“Good.”
I nodded in acknowledgement, wondering if he noticed that my cheeks were inflamed with embarrassment.
“You okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “I was going to pull up the next episode of Heated Rivalry on my laptop. Want to watch with me?”
He glanced at his phone. “Sure. I’ve got to call Michael at four. He had a meeting with Sal DeLorenzo today and wants to brief me.”
We settled in, and I pulled up the episode, quietly marveling at my stoic Italian companion who was willing to watch gay male romancewith me.
“You know, lots of straight men wouldn’t be comfortable with this,” I said, grinning.
“That’s their problem,” he said, shrugging. “Love is rare. Who cares how people find it?”
I inwardly swooned at what I considered the perfect answer. “That’s true. Plus, the dudes are hot.”
Laughing, he squinted one eye. “I think that’s your department, but whatever floats your boat.”
We fell into silence as the episode progressed, and my body hummed as the warmth from his strong frame seemed to permeate into mine. Even though we weren’t touching, I felt an intense connection to him. Marveling at it, I realized he was the first person, besides Mom, who I felt truly comfortable with.
I’d made it through high school and college making a few close friends, but never anything to this degree. For the first time in my life, I felt like someone got me.
Slipping my hand into his, I squeezed.
He smiled and squeezed back before releasing me. I understood why, knowing that he took his vow to protect me seriously. In his mind, crossing the romantic line would impede his ability to do his duty. But deep in my heart, I wondered if we could ever be something.
Perhaps one day, when we were free from the danger of our enemies and we returned to the real world, was there a reality where we could try to actually be somethingmore?It seemed impossible since he was embedded in the mafia, a world I wanted to be free of someday, but stranger things had happened.
After all, when you’d always felt alone, you understood the significance of finding someone who made you feelconnected. Nick was the last person I’d expected to find that with, but against allodds, here we were, sitting in the comfortable silence I’d grown to treasure.
Lost in the possibility of something I knew was profound, I relaxed into the couch, allowing the small spark of hope to swell...
Chapter 8
Nick
The weeks after Bianca’s accident moved quickly, and as we headed into December, I hoped Alexis and I would be able to leave the safehouse before Christmas. Michael was making progress in eliminating Victor’s loyalists, although John Armetta remained a thorn in our side.
He’d reported some anonymous violations at one of Michael’s Queens nightclubs, causing some headaches with the city. John had also left threatening messages for some of Bianca’s doctors, creating the need for Michael to find other physicians to visit the home. Not an easy task for a gangster in the middle of a bloody turf war, but he was adept at navigating the circumstances.
I’d managed to keep my hands off Alexis, but with each passing day, it was harder to control my attraction toward her. Not sleeping together had actually forced me to get to know her, and although I’d thought her a spoiled brat in the beginning, I now understood her much better. I admired her ability to truly be herself in a world that hadn’t accepted her, and saw much of myself in her—although she had a playful nature that I didn’t possess. I’d always been quite stoic, and her gentle ribbing of me was one of the favorite parts of my day.
She was always jibing me about being so serious, or forgetting to put on a shirt when I worked out in themurder-basementas she jokingly called it. Half the time, I left the shirt off just to get her to tease me. Every time she chastised me, her bright smile made something click deep in my chest, and I strove to find more opportunities to see her smile.
And just when I’d settled into the thought that we were safe and possibly ready to return home, our worlds crashed in a blinding reminder that no one in the mafia was trulyeversafe.
