“Who was fighting?”
“You.” It’s not like the subject has come up in our conversation and I lied to him, yet I feel like I’ve done something wrong for not mentioning that I was at a fight. That fight.
My answer takes him my surprise. “You’ve seen me fight?”
“Once.”
“Which fight?”
“I don’t remember the other guy’s name.” I should remember, I remember everything. But I’m not lying when I respond. I’ve blocked the whole thing from my memory so well that I actually don’t remember. I’m good at doing that. Luckily, my brain goes into protective mode sometimes.
“Did I win?” I see a hint of his cocky smile. He must have always won.
“Yes.” I smile.
“Did he tap out or was it a decision?”
“Ummm.” I have no idea how to respond to the question. Nico probably thinks I don’t know what tap out means. But I do. Only in that fight, his opponent didn’t tap out and there was no need for a decision.
“What round did I win in?”
“I think it was the second.”
I watch as his face changes. His eyes close as he realizes which fight I saw. His handsome face is pained and I’m not sure if it’s the memory of that night or if it’s because I’ve just told him I was there. I say nothing because I’m not sure what to say. I only know that seeing him in pain hurts me. Physically.
I reach out and take both of his hands into my hands and gently squeeze, imploring him to look at me. He doesn’t move for a long moment. His head still bowed down, he eventually looks up at me. What I see breaks my heart. Raw pain in his eyes and sadness etched on his face.
“You know.” His voice is strained and I get the urge to make it better. Make him better. Make him forget the memory that causes him so much pain. Sometimes it can be unbearable, I know all too well. All those years I had no one to help me forget.
I nod my head once. His words weren’t a question, but I gave him the answer anyway. I watch as Nico closes his eyes for a long moment before looking back at me. Something hits him and I’m not sure what it is, but some of the pain that was there a minute ago flees from his face. Some of it is still there, but it’s less pronounced now.
“You’re here anyway.” His face is so serious and intent. It’s such an odd, surreal moment. His eyes are locked with mine, filled with intensity and pain and everything in the background falls away. There is nothing in the moment except me and Nico. The here and now, everything else is just a blur because he holds my sole focus.
I don’t even know where my response comes from. I’m a think before you speak type of person. But I hold his gaze as the words fall from my lips, time stops for my simple five word response and when it starts back up again, everything is different. “Where else would I be?” My words are spoken softly, but they connect with Nico instantly.
For a split second I see something in his eyes that I can’t place, but it warms me all over. Like being wrapped in a warm blanket when you’re cold, it brings me comfort and heat and I just want to crawl under and stay there. Nico is silent as he stands. I look up just as he reaches down and scoops me up into his big arms. He cradles me tightly as he walks. Neither of us say a word, we just watch each other.
We enter what must be his bedroom and he gently sets me down in the middle of his big bed. But he doesn’t join me right away. Instead he stands up and takes it all in. Me, laying in the middle of his bed. I think he’s taking a mental picture, as if he wants to sear it into his brain and remember it forever. It makes me feel adored. It’s the sweetest thing a man has ever done and it took no words.
His long, slow, heated gaze sweeps up my body and when his eyes finally reach my eyes, I can barely take the wait anymore. I want him. So damn badly. It’s actually more of a need than a want. It should scare me to feel what I’m feeling, but it doesn’t. There is no room for scared between us. I reach up and offer him my hand, and Nico looks between my eyes and my hand and back again before taking it. The silent confirmation of what I need is enough and I finally get what I want.
Slowly, he half covers my body with his, the other half of his weight supported by the bed. The part that is touching me is thick and hard and I wish that his body was completely over mine so I could feel each and every rippled muscle pressed against me. Instead, he uses the space between us to brush his big hand over the side of my body.
His hand starts at the middle of my thigh and painstakingly slowly runs up my side. Nico’s eyes don’t leave mine as his hand travels. When his hand reaches the side of my breast, his thumb gently reaches out and feels the curve of my swell. A small gasp escapes me, it’s small, but Nico catches it and I can actually see the green in his eyes darken at my response. He’s watching me, taking in my every reaction to his touch and I get the sense that he’s as aroused as I am from his simple touch.