“Can you take us to him so we can say hi?”
“Sure. He’s in his workshop.” Earl isn’t happy about it, but I nudge him off my lap so I can stand. Both dogs follow behind me.
My dads quiz me on what all we’ve gotten up to—mostly reading and relaxing for me, since Nico turns down every offer of help I give. Since I got here, he hasn’t spent a ton of time in his workshop. An hour or two each day, but today, he’s been in there all morning.
“Have the two of you talked about much? I know Nico isn’t the kind of person to open up, but I think it could be good for him. For both of you.”
I’m not sure my dads would understand the little back and forth Nico and I have going, trading scars. Not without me explaining that we’re sleeping together—literally sleeping—on the couch. Our dads trust us, but they’re protective, and Sloane and I have erred on the side of not giving them too much to worry about as we’ve gotten older.
“We’ve talked a little, but not much. Like you said, he doesn’t really open up,” I lie as I shove my feet in my boots and open the front door. The boys shoot past me, Grey leaping from the porch and rolling around in the snow.
My dad tuts. “Well, maybe he will more the longer you’re there. You’re so easy to talk to, Es, and he could really use someone to take care of him.”
In the background, Sloane hides her laugh with a cough.
I knock on Nico’s workshop door, and he looks up, eyeing my laptop curiously. “My dads want to say hi,” I tell him, before he can make a comment about my lack of pants.
His eyes widen, and he sets the tool he’s using down on the bench before nodding. I carry my laptop and set it in front of him, but I don’t hear a word they say as they greet each other. Nico has a short-sleeved gray T-shirt tucked into his jeans and a tool belt fastened around his hips, and, apparently, I find that hot now. The workshop smells like sawdust, but he smells warm and spicy. It’s a problem.
I’ve accepted the fact that I’m permanently horny around Nico, but the urge I have just to hug him is new. And not an option. Even if my dads weren’t on the phone, I don’t think I could just ask him for a hug in broad daylight. That’s the kind of thing we do when it’s dark and we can’t sleep.
When I tune back into the conversation, I can tell Nico isn’t comfortable. His knee is bouncing under the table, his foot tapping on the floor, disturbing the thin layer of wood dust that seems to cover everything in here. I’m more focused on him than what he’s saying, and I drag over a stool so I can sit beside him and set my hand on the low of his back, out of sight of my family. He jumps only slightly, but I feel him relax into my touch.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a text from my sister.
Sloane
Okay, I can see it. He’s kind of hot in a gruff lumberjack kind of way.
Still old, though.
Sloane.
What???
Also, I was thinking. If pushing him until he snaps is taking too long, you should do the opposite. Push him once, and when he fights it, stop. It’ll drive him crazy trying to figure it out, and he’ll snap faster.
It’s not a terrible idea. And Nico did give me carte blanche to torment him… Icouldbe patient, but I’d rather not be. And he looks really,reallygood in that T-shirt.
“Earth to Este.” Pops’s voice jolts me out of my head. Shit, was I staring at Nico’s arms? Really, who could blame me?
“Sorry, I zoned out. What’s up?”
“We have to run. Your dad booked us a snorkeling trip because it comes with bottomless mimosas.” That sounds like my dad.
“Have fun!” I say, a little relieved. I miss them, and it’s not that I don’t love talking to them; it’s just hard. Post-crash Este isn’t the Este they want.
“Be good, kid. We’ll talk soon.”
We all say our goodbyes, and I close my laptop when Sloane reaches over Pops’s shoulder to hang up the call because he can’t find the button.
“You okay? You seem quieter than usual,” Nico says, brushing a piece of sawdust from the top of my laptop.
“I’m fine. Just family, you know.”
“I do know,” he answers with a wry smile.
I lean my elbow on his desk, taking him in. Though weboth got a full night’s sleep two days ago, he looks as tired as I feel. After just a few months of not sleeping, I feel like I need to sleep for two weeks straight to get caught up. After twenty-odd years, Nico probably needs even more than I do.
