Snagging a piece of spicy shrimp roll, I hum with pleasure as I eat it. Sushi from Sushi Galore in Hoboken doesn’t compare to this. Not even close.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want sushi,” he says, “so I ordered Italian, too. And brunch stuff. Plus, I got some subs if you’re in the mood. Or we could order something else. Whatever you want.”
“I love sushi. And is that—” I peer around his shoulder at the food he’s revealing. “Did you order eggplant parm?”
“It doesn’t really go with sushi, I know. But whatever you’re not in the mood for, we can stick in the fridge for later. Incase we end up getting a Nor’easter or the apocalypse ends up happening.”
“Hopefully not.” I swat his arm. “I think I’ve had enough crumminess already this month.”
Nico stills. Then he turns to face me again. His expression is stricken. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of it.”
And there goes my heart again.
This time, it’s urging me to comfort him.
But really, why not? It’s not like I’m the only one who’s had a rough time lately. Yes, my experience has been significantly worse, what with three failed attempts on my life. But Nico had his ex-girlfriend basically flung in his face. He put himself in danger to protect me not once, but twice.Andhe just found out that his father’s been lying to him for the last eighteen years.
“You’re fine.” I put my hand on his biceps. And holy crap, are they big. I mean, intellectually, I knew they were. I’ve seen them. He had his arms around me yesterday. But actually touching them, feeling the contradiction of hard muscle to soft skin…
Nico’s eyes heat as he looks at me. The light blue deepens. His jaw works. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I decide to keep my hand there a little longer. For… balance. Yes. Because I’m still recovering from a concussion. So I should hang onto sturdy things just in case I get dizzy. That makes total sense. “I’m sure.”
With his free arm, he grabs a large white box from the other side of the table. “I got these for dessert. I remember you used to love them.”
Andthere.
There’s that vulnerability again.
There’s the Nico who doesn’t run a successful company. Who didn’t serve as a freaking Delta Force operator, which online research and that memoir I’m reading has told me is pretty much the most badass thing you could be.
No. This is the Nico who wants to make me happy. Who still remembers my favorite things. Who, deep down, isn’t as confident as he lets people think he is.
He’s hurting, too,I remind myself.But he’s still trying.
Another layer of ice melts from my heart.
Then I glance at the contents of the white box, and my heart thaws completely.
Past the sudden lump in my throat, I ask, “You got red velvet cupcakes?”
“Not just red velvet.” He nods at the rows of frosted cupcakes lined up inside. “I got six red velvet, and six other kinds. So you could choose. But I remember how much you loved them…”
I did. I still do.
And even after eighteen years, he never forgot.
Tears threaten again, but I force them back.
That irritating voice of logic whispers,He could hurt you again.
Shut up,I tell it.He could. But so can a lot of things. That doesn’t mean I never try them.
“Nico.” My voice is huskier than I’ve heard it in a very long time. “I love them. And thank you. For getting all this. For protecting me. For letting me stay here. Just… thank you.”
He blinks. “You don’t have to thank me, Sofia. It’s the least I can do.”
I take the box from his hands and set it back on the table. Still holding his gaze, I ask, “Is that all it is? Because you feel like you should?”
