“No, stay with me.”
twenty-six
Savannah
Hewantsmetostay.
Even in the darkened room, I glimpse the vulnerability in his stormy-gray eyes as he stares at me from only inches away.
My heart beats double-time as I stare back, letting the truth I’ve been trying to ignore float to the surface.
I’m not sure I’d have been able to leave Nico here all alone while he was in pain even if he had wanted me to. I get the sense he doesn’t let people get close enough to him to see him when he’s like this, including his family.
When I heard him crash into the wall in the hallway and curse, I knew something was wrong. I felt it in my gut. I didn’t think twice about rushing out of my apartment to help him. What I didn’t expect to find was him on his knees, head resting against the wall, and looking greener than pea soup. The eye twitching, temple massaging, squinting at the bright lights—it all made sense.
Migraines.
I know how debilitating they can be for anyone who experiences them.
I slide my hands out from under my cheek and run one through his thick black hair. His eyelids flutter, and a small rumbling hum vibrates low in his throat at the contact. A feeling I don’t want to name fills me up like a balloon ready to burst.
“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
“Then I hope you’re prepared to move in.”
At his admission, my hand stills, fingers buried in his hair.
I know he’s being facetious, but I can’t help wondering if there is a sliver of truth behind his words. The corner of his lip curls up into the cocky smirk I secretly enjoy seeing on his face.
“Stop flirting with me, baseball boy.”
“I’ll never stop flirting with you,gattina.”
I stare at Nico as he licks his bottom lip. He catches me watching, and his grin grows, sending the butterflies into a tailspin.
What is this man doing to me?
A few sweet texts and dinners, and he has me lowering my guard. I need to pull myself together. This can’t go anywhere.
“Go to sleep.”
“I like it when you boss me around, Doc.”
Inappropriate thoughts of climbing on top of Nico and having my way with him flood my brain.
Like he knows what I’m thinking, he mumbles, “Someday.”
“Nicolas,” I warn.
He teasingly hums again, and I roll my eyes at him, ignoring the zip of excitement flowing through my veins at the thought of someday.
“Fine. But first, can I ask you a question?” The little light filtering into the bedroom from the hallway makes the silver flecks in his irises sparkle. Something in his pleading eyes has me nodding. “Were you waiting for me?”
My eyes close at his question. The urge to lie is on the tip of my tongue, but I’m not a liar. As much as I want to deny it, I don’t.
“I was.”
“Did that hurt?”
