“Nico,” I cry as my orgasm crests, and he growls, pulling out just in time to spill all over me. It’s messy, filthy, and by far the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
I come down, collapsing against the couch, but Nico cups my head, like he’s protecting it. Then he lies beside me, staring up at the ceiling, panting. He looks as stunned as I feel.
Thank god we have weeks until the snow melts.
10
NICO
We slept for ten hours. Ten whole, uninterrupted hours.
It feels weird. I don’t remember the last time I was so rested. As I peer over Este’s head, flicking my gaze over the living room, even the air seems so much more awake. It’s dark, but everything is a little brighter, a little less hazy.
I didn’t mean to fall asleep last night. But after we caught our breath and ate dinner, Este wanted to cuddle. And I’m quickly realizing that whatever Este wants from me, she gets. It’s not like we didn’t need it. I haven’t slept for so long since I was sedated in the hospital—honestly, I never thought I’d sleep through the night again.
But then, I never thought I’d end up cuddling my best friend’s daughter to sleep. And that’s the least unexpected thing that happened last night. It’s hard to regret it when we both made it through nightmare-free. It’s hard to regret it at all, even though I really should.
Este looks peaceful, her sleepy frown nowhere to be seen. Her cheek is pink from where it was pressed againstmy chest all night. I have to push down the urge to kiss it. I have no idea what’s happening to me. Last night was completely out of character.
My sex life is boring, which is just how I like it. Zero strings, a couple of hours in a hotel room in Jackson, a couple of times a month with a stranger I meet on an app who’s looking for the same thing: temporary stress relief. Usually, it’s tourists or people passing through for work. There are a lot of people looking for casual sex out there. It’s not mind-blowing, fireworks, earth-shattering sex, but for a little while, it’s fun.
Last night was not that. Last night was… interesting. World shifting. Everything.
Este brought out a side of me I didn’t know existed. And, in the moment, it felt completely natural.
I could argue that it wasn’t technically sex, but I’d be lying, and I’m not that good a liar. If I were, I’d tell myself it meant nothing. I’d tell myself I didn’t like it when she called me “Daddy,” or handed me the reins. I’d tell myself it was just because we’re stuck here together. I’d tell myself we have nothing in common, that she’s just Bryan’s daughter to me, and I’m just her dad’s best friend to her.
I’d tell myself that, under no circumstances, is it going to happen again.
I shift away from her, untangling myself as gently as I can so I don’t wake her. She lets out a little whimper, and, for a moment, I think I’ve fucked up, but she grips the blanket and snuggles in, still sound asleep.
The dogs, on the other hand… Grey jumps gracefully from the bed. Earl half-stumbles off, but at least he’s quiet. I pull on my jeans and my flannel from yesterday, grab my phone from the table, and shove my feet into my boots by the door.
It must have snowed again overnight, and I wrap my arms around me as I follow the boys outside. The sky is still dark, with millions of stars twinkling above us. Yet I’m staring at my phone. For so long, I’ve been entirely on my own—by choice. It’s easier not to get hurt or to hurt people when you don’t have anyone in your life. That doesn’t apply to Shay. Not letting her in hurt both of us, and I’m trying to be better. That doesn’t mean it’s easy for me to open up to her, or even have a relationship with her, but we’re getting there.
And right now, my head is a fucking mess, and she’s the only person I want to talk to. The only person Icantalk to, considering my only friend is Este’s dad. It’s not long after six, but Shay and Noelle’s bakery opens early, so I know she’ll be awake.
“I was just talking about you,” she answers on the third ring.
“That’s ominous.”
“Nothing bad. Noelle accidentally scratched the floor when she was moving a chair, and I was showing her your walnut trick to fix scratches in wood. Still works a treat,” Shay says with a yawn.
“Thank you, Nico!” Noelle shouts. It’s unnecessary, because I can still hear her clearly when she says, in a normal volume, “I’ll head down and get started. Talk as long as you need, sweetheart.”
Shay says something in French, and Noelle replies in what I think is supposed to be French.
“You’re teaching her French?” I ask my sister, and Shay snorts.
“An app is teaching her French. I tried, but we both got too frustrated. She’s determined to be able to speak to the locals when we go on our honeymoon next year.”
“Aren’t you supposed to get engaged before you start planning the honeymoon?”
“Usually, but we’re both trying to outdo the other with our proposals, and it’s taking a while. Noelle wants a Christmas Eve wedding, so we’ve started planning. You’re coming,” Shay states. It’s not a question, and I don’t blame her. Before we started talking more regularly last year, I’m not sure if I would’ve said yes if asked.
“Of course I’m coming. Happy for you, Shay.” Noelle is everything I could have ever dreamed of for my sister—they balance each other perfectly, and I’ve never seen Shay so happy. I’m not sure either of us ever imagined she’d fall in love with someone so much younger than her, but when it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.
I can hear the smile in her voice when she replies. “Thanks. How are things going with Este?”
