He shakes his head seriously. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Nico, I’m terrified to lose you. You have nothing to worry about here.”
His eyes search mine, and knowing that he usually doesn’t look people in the eye pulls at my heartstrings. He kisses my nose as he whispers, “You have nothing to worry about.”
Oh, heart. Oh, poor heart. “Nico, I want you to know that when I lost my mom, I seriously lost every beacon of happiness. All I had was Callie and Jaylin, but I swear, I faked most of it with them. It took you coming into my life to break open that part of me, and I can’t thank you enough. Really. I can’t.”
He kisses my nose. “I mean, I am a joy and a delight.”
We both grin. Of course, he would quote that asshole upstairs. “And while I love your relationship with Callie and I know it was hard for you to watch me yell at her earlier, you need to be on my side about this. She cannot talk to your mom like that.”
He inhales heavily and then lets his breath out. “Callie was right, though. I’m pissed at my mom.”
“I know, but Callie called your mom an old lady.”
He grins. “Sorry. I’m on her side.”
I let my head drop down against his jaw. “You two are going to be the death of me.”
He kisses my forehead. “Don’t worry. You took her phone away. I’ll deal with my mom, and everything will be fine.”
“She hates us,” I say on a groan as I look up at him. “Callie more, but still, your mom knows I raised that opinionated, loud kid, and she’s just like me—”
“I know—she’s perfect,” he says with a grin. “And like she said, who cares if my mom likes you guys or not? I like you, and I think how the three of us feel is all that matters.”
I get lost in his eyes. “So, if Callie didn’t like you, we’d have a problem?”
He scoffs. Back is my playful Nico, and everything inside me wants to celebrate. “Please. I’m awesome. That kid had no chance. Just like you didn’t.”
I laugh as I lean into him. I can’t even disagree because he is completely right.
Now I know I had no chance whatsoever once Nico decided I would be his.
* * *
Callie is at school and Nico is at practice, so since I’m alone, I try to get ahead on the week. I have to cater for the IceCats four times in the coming week. As much as I love the money, the process stresses me out. I feel like I can’t get it all done, but somehow, I do. Nico suggested I hire help, but I don’t want to pay someone to do a job I can do. I guess I could hire some high school kids, but then I’d have to micromanage them, and I already do that for Callie. I don’t want to do it for anyone else.
I turn on the mixer, and it struggles to mix the dough, but it gets the job done. I walk to the front to check my proofer and then my ovens. I hate having the ovens out here, but Mom said it makes the customers’ mouths water. I believe they could smell them from the back because I’m sweating like crazy out here. I switch some things over and start a prepping area for the veggie trays I’ll make. I had to Google how to make pretty trays since I didn’t want to embarrass Nico. Apparently throwing everything on a tray isn’t professional-looking. How was I supposed to know? This is my first catering job, but Jaylin made sure to let me know.
As I move through the shop, doing what I need to do, my thoughts, as always, float to Nico. He’s been dodging calls from his mom, and I almost feel bad for her. I don’t agree with the way she handled things, but she wasn’t out to hurt him. She was confused, and to be honest, so am I. I’m unsure how I feel that he hid that part of himself. I showed him every scar and told him about my fucked-up life, but he never once told me he is autistic. It all makes perfect sense, and I’m surprised I didn’t catch on before, but I don’t know if I’m bothered because he didn’t tell me or because he told Callie first.
I think this may be a jealousy thing.
I want to know everything about Nico. I want him to tell me all of it, but he confided in my sister about a huge part of his life and not me. Like I told him, it doesn’t matter—he’s still Nico to me—but I can’t help but wish he had been honest with me from the jump. Nothing would have changed; I would still be in my feelings for him, but I did want to know.