“What?” He shakes his head. “Nate doesn’t even like dogs!”
I chuckle, well aware of the irony. “Yeah, serves him right, huh?”
For a few moments Nicko chews on his lips, then those tears start to slide down over his cheeks. It kills me, but I wait until he leans closer before I wrap my arms around him.
“Ugh,” he groans, protesting, but I just hum and hold him closer. After a few moments, he takes a handful of deep breaths, letting his head sink against my shoulder. I nose into his hair, sighing when I breathe in his familiar scent.
“I just...what if...what if he’ll leave me behind?” Nicko’s voice is so small and quiet that I barely make out his words through the soft sobs. When I do, I shake my head right away.
“He’d never. Nate would never leave you behind,” I say, utterly sure. I might be speaking for my best friend, but there’s no way in hell he’d ever leave his brother behind.
“But what if...and you’ll both...and I–” Nicko’s sobs are getting strong enough to shake his shoulders, and I pull him even tighter against me, rubbing over his back. I wait for him to calm down, running my hands over his back before I tilt my head to nudge his ear with my nose.
“That’s bullshit. Neither Nate nor I will leave you behind. You’ll be right there, kicking my ass with the Rebels, and as soon as Nate’s ready, you’ll kick his ass too at whichever club he ends up. In fact, you’ll kick so much ass that they’ll create a whole new category for it.”
Nicko hiccups, struggling to reach one hand up to cover my mouth.
“You’re so ridiculous, Hart,” he mutters, but there’s no more tears, and his voice is much steadier. “That isn’t even funny!”
“No, but it’ll be true.” I brush a few strands of hair off of Nicko’s forehead, cupping his cheek to tip his head up and brush our lips together. The contact is warm and comforting. When I blink my eyes open, his are still red but clear, and not swimming with unshed tears anymore. He leans back against me; his hair tickles my cheek and then my neck, and I wish we could stay right here forever.
“Okay, enough lecture. Get back to your room before someone calls the cops on you for running around naked,” Nicko says eventually but doesn’t move to let go, so I don’t either. Though I do reach down to make sure the towel is still there, wrapped around my hips.
“Somehow, I seem to have trouble keeping my clothes on around you.”
“Normally, I appreciate that, but not when you might catch your death.”
I chuckle and slowly loosen my arms, mentally preparing to let him go. It becomes harder the less time we have left in the season. I should worry about that, but I keep pushing it off.
As long as there’s alaterto be had, I want as much of it as I can get.
“You’ll talk to him, right?” I can’t help but ask.
“Yeah,” Nicko sniffs, rubbing over his face with his sleeve. “Just...not now,” he says, blinking up at me and then looking away again.
I nod, even though my nerves strain at the prospect of having to deal with the twins arguing for another couple of days. I know it hurts them both, but I also know it’s something only they can fix.
“I understand,” I hum, once again burying my nose in Nicko’s hair as I press my lips against his forehead. He leans into the contact, sighing as—slowly—some tension leaves his shoulders. His breath tickles my neck, causing my heart to jump into my throat.
God, I can’t get enough of him.
“Nicko, I…” I clear my throat when my voice comes out rough and thick. It breaks the spell that almost had me bare more of myself than if I lost the towel.
“Text me, when you’re home?” I end a bit lamely. A breeze makes me shiver, and Nicko rubs over my arms and bare chest, making me aware of how warm his hands are—and how cold I feel.
“Yeah, of course. Now go!” He makes a shooing motion, though I see his eyes trail down my chest to my hips and legs. Then he nudges me toward the entrance of the building.
Without him to shield me from the wind, it’s freezing, and I’m eager to get inside. Before I pull the door open, I look over my shoulder though.
Nicko is walking backward across the lawn, raising his hand for a wave before he reaches up to tug his hood over his head.
Back upstairs, I hurry to put on some clean sweatpants and socks, shivering as I pull a sweater over my head.
“Where’s Nicko?” Nate’s voice reaches me through the thick fabric.
“Home,” I answer as soon as I have managed to push my head through.
Nate’s eyes glare at me, much angrier than I expected. They’re also a bit swollen, and I suspect that he too cried as soon as I left to chase after his brother.
