“Embarrassed? Why?”
“I just—” My mouth clamps shut.
“Sofia.” Nico’s voice gentles. “If you’re in pain, or something’s bothering you, I need to know, or I can’t help.”
You didn’t care before,I want to retort.
But that would be childish and irrelevant and I’m really not up for getting into ancient history right now. Will we need to talk about the wholebeing arrested unjustly for allegedly stealing from his familythingif I’m going to stay here? Yes. Eventually. But now? When I’m feeling so vulnerable already? No thanks.
Deciding a vague version of the truth is the best response, I reply, “I heard a noise. And since you said you wouldn’t be home until the evening, I got worried. I thought… Well. I wasn’t sure who it was.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I was going to. But I wanted to get the door shut. In case… Anyway, I was trying to close the door when you came in. And that’s how I fell. Stupid, really. But I’m fine.”
Nico stares at me. Then he sighs, and his gaze dips. His shoulders sag. “Shit. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I should have called ahead to let you know I was coming home. I didn’t think… But I should have realized.” His blue eyes meet mine, dark with remorse. “I’m sorry, Sofia. It’s my fault.”
“It’s not.”
“It is. Of course you’d be scared?—”
“I wasn’t scared.” His eyebrows shoot up. “Okay, I was a little scared,” I amend. “But it’s your place. You can come back whenever you want. You don’t have to tell me about it.”
“I should have,” Nico insists. “It’s been a long time since I lived with anyone. So I’m used to just coming and going whenever. But of course you’d be… alarmed. That’s on me.”
“Why are you back?” I blurt. Then I immediately curse my curiosity. It’s none of my business why he’s back early.
Nico stands. “I was worried about leaving you alone so soon after your concussion. So I thought I’d work from home today instead.”
“Oh.”
Don’t feel grateful. Don’t soften towards him. He’s probably just worried you’re going to steal something, and the whole coming back to keep an eye on things is an excuse.
Except. He looks worried. Not about me stealing. But about me being hurt.
“Well, I’m here,” Nico says. Then he snorts. “Obviously I’m here. You have eyes.” He casts a quick glance around the bedroom. “Have you eaten yet?”
At the mention of food, my stomach rumbles. “No,” I admit. “Not yet.”
“Okay.” He pulls the blankets back and looks at me expectantly.
“Yes?” I ask.
He angles his chin at the mattress. “Lie down. I’ll get some ice for your elbow. And something for you to eat.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Soph.”
I wish he’d stop calling me that. It’s too familiar. Too intimate. Loaded with too many memories.
“What?” I reply tightly.
Nico crosses his stupidly big biceps across his chest. “I’m getting you food. And ice. And some pain pills. Don’t argue. I’m getting them, anyway.”
It’s right there, on the tip of my tongue, to insist I don’t need his help.
But to what benefit? What will it prove? Especially when I know darn well that Nico will go ahead and do it anyway, because he’s just as stubborn as me?
