“Open your eyes, angel.”
I open them, and my fingers, and gasp. A tiny wooden teddy bear is sitting on my palm. It’s remarkably detailed, considering how small it is, with a gold necklace chain coming from the top. I take in the star on its tummy, my eyes burn.
“Oh my god. It’s Amelia Bearhart.”
Nico nods and picks it up, showing me the bear’s feet. One has a tiny A, the other a B. “I know you can’t take her everywhere with you, but this is small enough that you can tuck it in your pocket even if you don’t want to wear it, and maybe it’ll comfort you when you need it.”
It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever been given. And hemadeit. Holy shit.
“Nico…” I breathe, looking up at him. Alarm flashes on his face.
“Hey. Don’t cry. Shit, I’m sorry, I thought it would help I?—”
“I love it,” I cut in quickly, wiping my face. “I can’t believe you made this for me. No one has ever done anything like this for me—something so special.” Except him, I guess, when he made my memory box.
“You deserve everything special,” he says, wiping my cheek with his sleeve. “It’s from the same tree as your memory box.” The first tree. The one he only uses for the most special projects. “I wanted you to have something, you know.”When you’re not here. He doesn’t have to say it. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.
“It’s perfect. Thank you. Will you put it on me?”
Nico nods, and I turn around so he can loop the chain around my neck. His hands are too big for the tiny clasp—I still can’t believe he can carve things on such a small scale—but he manages to close it after a few attempts. The bear sits right in the center of my chest, the weight of it already comforting.
When I turn back to him, his gaze falls to the bear, and his lips part. “What do you think?”
He draws in a long breath and swallows before answering. “At the risk of sounding like a possessive asshole, I didn’t consider how much I would like seeing you wearing something I made.”
He licks his lips and traces his finger down one side of the chain, pauses right above the bear, then up the other.
“Please, feel free to sound like a possessive asshole. More so, even,” I whisper, as his finger traverses my throat, settling right below my chin. “You know I like it when you claim me.”
His eyes flame, and, before I can blink, I’m bent over his workbench with my underwear around my ankles.
23
NICO
After weeks of reading books recommended by Este, reading the same thing at the same time seemed like a good idea. We both tear through them at a similarly ridiculous pace, so when we both finished our books while we were eating lunch (and recovering from our morning in the workshop), it made sense to suggest we start one together.
And when I put my iPad down to start making dinner, Este suggesting she read out loud to me also made sense.
My bad. I should’ve known better.
“You’re doing that deliberately,” I say, dropping my spatula in the orzo and butterbean soup that’s almost finished and turning to face her.
“Doing what?” she asks, looking up from her Kindle. She has the audacity to blink innocently.
“Reading it like that.”
“I’m just reading the book. It’s not my fault it happens to be a sex scene.”
“Just reading the book,” my ass.“You’re deliberately lowering your voice and making it all breathy.”
She shrugs, clearly unbothered by my calling it out. “Maybe I’m just practicing for all the phone sex we’re going to have when the road is safe enough to drive down. Did you consider that?”
I did not, and I don’t want to. Because that means thinking about her leaving, and I don’t want to do that.
“Este.”
“What?”
