We settle on Thai food, and I refrain from kicking off my jeans for a little while longer so I can get it from the door.
“What do you want to watch? Do you have a favorite movie?” I ask Nico as I lift my feet onto the coffee table and flick on the TV. I feel like I know so much about him in depth, but so few of the little things people usually learn first, like his favorite movie, what flavor of ice cream he picks, if he’s an appetizer, dessert, or both kind of person. Some things I’ve absorbed just by spending so much time around him—he likes classical music, his favorite dessert is Shay’s hazelnut éclairs, he’s a Libra who doesn’t believe in astrology, but gets pissed off whenever he doesn’t like his horoscope anyway.
“You know, I honestly have no idea what my favorite movie is. Do you have—why am I asking, of course you do. Let’s watch yours.”
He’s not wrong; of course I have a favorite. “Have you seenFly Away Home? It’s about geese,” I ask, and Nico frowns.
“Your favorite movie is about geese?”
“Yes. Well, it’s about more than the geese. You’ll see—you’re going to love it. I should warn you, you’ll probably cry, though,” I say as there’s a knock on the door that makes us both jump. I’m already out of the habit of having people knocking on the door, and it has to be much worse for him.
I get up to get our food, and Nico scoffs. “I’m not going to cry.”
“What the fuck?” Nico says, wiping his cheeks as the credits roll.
I laugh as I wipe my own. It would be bratty to say, “I told you so,” but… “I told you so.”
“Yes, yes, as previously established, you are always right, angel,” he replies without an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.
“And don’t you forget it.”
“Never,” he promises. I lay my head on his shoulder, and he runs his fingers through the ends of my hair. It’s in desperate need of a trim. I’ve been going to the same stylist in Chicago for years, and I’m going to miss her when I…ifI end up staying here.
It’s starting to feel a little bit more likewhenthanif,though.
“Did you ever have a pet growing up? I don’t remember Br—your dad ever mentioning.” He half-stumbles over my dad’s name but doesn’t sound as guilty as he did before the “axe-ident,” as Sloane calls it.
“Nope. Pops isn’t an animal person, but Dad is trying to convince him to get a dog now that Sloane and I have moved out. He says the house is too quiet. Did you always have dogs?”
“Not when we were kids. My mom ran a home daycare and didn’t want to deal with the hair. The boys were my first. This is the longest I’ve been away from them since I got them.”
I look up, and he’s worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “Noelle’s mom texted me this morning. They’re doing well, and she’s going to bring them over tomorrow—with breakfast, apparently,” I tell him, and watch the relief settle in his eyes.
“Good. I miss them.”
“Me too, but they would’ve hated the hospital,” I joke, relishing in Nico’s answering laugh. I can’t believe that, for a while, I thought I might never get to hear that sound again.
“Hey. Where’d you go just now?” he asks, concern etched on his face.
“I was just thinking how glad I am that we’re here. That I can hear you laugh, touch you, feel you. I was so worried.” My voice cracks, and Nico kisses the top of my head.
“I’m so fucking sorry, angel. You’ve handled this all… God, better than I would have if the situation were reversed. I’m glad we’re here, too.”
When I look up, he’s close enough that pressing my lips to his is easy. I cup his face, trying to be gentle, but Nico growls like he’s frustrated he can’t get closer to me. I know I shouldn’t, but I kick off the blanket and straddle his waist, keeping away from his sling as much as I can. Nico groans, and stars sparkle at the edges of my vision as I feel his cock brush against the thin fabric of my underwear.Has it really only been three days?I think I might have developed an unhealthy addiction to orgasms courtesy of my dad’s best friend. What a shame.
He kisses me like I’m the first drop of water he’s had to drink in days, like he needs this,me, to survive. I don’t mean to grind on his lap, but I can’t help myself. Nico is gripping my ass with his good hand, his fingers biting into my skin.
“How’s your arm?” I ask breathlessly, pulling back from the kiss. “Is this hurting it?”
“Fuck no. I’m fine. Don’t stop.”
But I do stop. Nico reaches for me, trying to pull me back in as I stand up. “Patience,” I murmur, while practicing exactly the opposite as I rip off my sweater and push my underwear down. Nico’s eyes blacken.
There’s no point in my wrestling with his shirt, but I pull his sweatpants and boxers down, and he kicks them off. This time, when I straddle his lap, he lets out a ragged sigh, his eyes closing. I close my fist around his cock, drawing my fingers up and down and watching every muscle in his body tighten as he clings to an impressive amount of self-control.
More self-control than I have, frankly.
I lift myself and curse as I brush my clit with his cock. Nico half-opens his eyes, watching me.
