“It’s not me,” he declares.
“Liar. That’s what you do. You just move on without thinking about the person you’re hurting. You—”
“I’m sorry,” Nico blurts.
“What?” Charlotte squeaks.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Charlotte. I wish you had never seen me at that party. I wish I had never gone to your dorm afterwards and yelled at you. I was wrong. You were my friend, and I took things too far between us. But back then, I was an immature ass. I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship with you or anyone.”
“But you’re ready now?” Charlotte scoffs in disbelief.
“Is anyone ready to get knocked on their ass when they meet the one?” Nico jokes, but I can’t see Charlotte’s face to know if she’s responding to his joke or not.
My heart, on the other hand, responds with a little pinch at hearing Nico say “the one”.
“Yes, I’m ready. Savannah is it for me. She is everything I never knew I needed. I lo—” Nico cuts himself off, and my ribs squeeze. From over the top of Charlotte’s head, I watch him run his hands through his hair, and his shoulders fall as he blows out a harsh breath. “I really wish I was saying this to Savannah right now.”
The desperation in his voice has me stepping out from behind the wall that separates the living space and the bedrooms. “You are.”
Nico’s gray eyes crash into mine and hit me like a Mack truck. His gaze is a swirl of emotions. Shock, awe, love, desire, longing, fear. A mirror of my own feelings.
Neither of us dares to look away as I speak to my sister. “Charlotte, do you think you can give us some privacy?”
“Sure.” Charlotte leaves the door open and steps towards me. She places a hand on my forearm and whispers, “I’m okay if you decide to be with him.”
“Thank you, sissy.”
She kisses my cheek and turns back to Nico. “I’ll forgive you if she forgives you.”
“Duly noted,” Nico says as he keeps his gaze on me.
Over her shoulder, Charlotte waves her hand in the air and disappears into the hall towards the spare bedroom she demanded to stay in.
“Ciao, amore mio.” His deep voice fills my chest with warmth, making it tight.
I fight the urge to be close to him, and the smile pulling at my mouth. Brow arched, I ask, “Your love?”
Nico smirks. “I see someone is learning Italian.”
“Maybe.” I shrug.
There may be a language-learning app downloaded on my phone that I’ve been using.
Finally breaking eye contact, my eyes do a full sweep of his body. He looks like he came straight from a workout. He’s wearing gray sweatpants, a dry-fit Evader’s T-shirt, and sneakers. His raven-colored hair is wild and mussed like he’s spent the better part of the day running his hands through it. Was he worried about me?
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I’m here for you.” As if he’s afraid I’ll run, he takes a tentative step forward.
“You have a game tonight. Won’t you be in trouble for missing it?” The last thing I want is for him to jeopardize his career.
“I don’t give a fuck about baseball.” Nico takes the last few strides between us. His clean leather scent fills my nose and wraps around me like a warm blanket from the inside out, and I long to be in his arms again, but I hold myself back.
“But it’s important to you.”
Nico shakes his head and falls to his knees in front of me. He reaches for both my hands and threads our fingers together. “No. You are important to me. More important than baseball. More important than anything else in this world.”
“Nico.” My voice is raspy, thick with affection for the man on his knees before me. Those three words dance on the tip of my tongue as tears collect at the corners of my eyes, clouding my vision.
