Wild Tendy (IceCats 2)

“It is not,” she says, tears streaming down her face. “That is your label to share. Not hers.”

I kiss the top of her head. “Thanks.”

She leans into me, and I hug her tightly. “I love you, Nico, and you did not deserve that. You should have been able to tell Aviva when you wanted.”

I lean my head into hers. She’s right, but none of that matters now. “I love you too, Cal.”

She pushes through a side door, and I automatically feel free when we are met with the outside air. No people, breaking dishes, or loud noises.

Freedom from everything.

But not for long, because Aviva is going to want answers.

Answers I’m terrified to give her.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Aviva

The ride back to my place is silent.

My mind is running like mad, and I really don’t know what just happened back there. There are three things that are screaming in my head and causing my whole body to shudder in confusion, a touch of betrayal, and anger.

One, Calliope acting like a fucking fool to the one person I wanted to like me since I’m pretty fond of Nico.

Two, Nico apparently telling his mom he loved me.

Three, Nico is autistic.

Oh, and four, his mom probably hates both Callie and me now. Callie more than me, so maybe I can get on her good side when Callie leaves for college. But do I want her there?

I can’t believe his mom threw Nico under the bus like that. I glance over at him, and he’s visibly upset. He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel, and perspiration is dotted along his temple. His phone has been ringing since we left, and when he turned it off, I figured it wasn’t a good thing. He didn’t turn it off to give us attention, which he has done before. No, it was to ignore whoever was calling.

I swallow hard as I glance back at Callie. She’s got her body in a ball, crying into her knees. I’m proud of her. She’s so fiercely protective and loves with her whole little body. I just wish she had chosen a different way to handle this—or better yet, not say anything at all. No. That’s not true. I would have handled this the same way she did if I had known. I absolutely love Nico and Callie’s relationship, but she can’t be talking to his mother like that.

Though the thing that bothers me the most is that Nico didn’t tell me.

When we get to the shop, Nico pulls in but doesn’t put the truck in park. He hasn’t looked at me since his mom uttered the word. I clear my throat. “Put the truck in park, Nico. We haven’t eaten, and I’m not having you go home hungry.”

“I’m fine. I can go through a drive-thru,” he says, and I’m staring a hole in the side of his face.

“Nico, just come in,” Callie adds, but he doesn’t move.

I reach out, cupping his wrist. Finally, he looks over at me, those beautiful, troubled brown eyes meeting mine. “Please.”

He clenches his jaw, and then he nods before putting the truck in park and turning it off. We all get out and head inside. As I lock the door to the shop behind us, I say, “Callie, go set your phone and my laptop on the counter. Then go to your room.”

She looks back at me with her brows raised. “Why?”

I look at her, dumbfounded. “Seriously? You can’t speak to people like that. I don’t care if you were right. You do not disrespect someone—”

“She disrespected him! It was not right. I don’t care who the hell she is.”

Either she or I will not make it to her eighteenth birthday. “Calliope. Do as I say and go to your room,” I warn, and tears fall from her eyes.

“If you hadn’t had the shock of learning what you did, then you would have defended him too. You—”

“Calliope, I swear to God, if you do not get up those stairs, I will take away gym and make you cut up onions for a month.”

She scrunches up her face in complete horror. I wait for her to come back at me—we’re a stubborn pair, she and I—but thankfully, she turns on her heels and heads up the stairs. I hear the door upstairs slam, more steps, and then her door shut. I set my purse on the table and exhale. When I look up at Nico, he’s standing there awkwardly, probably wishing he were anywhere but here. I push off the table and pat his chest as I walk by. “Let me make you a sub.”

“You don’t have to,” he says as I pass by. “You could just yell, get it done, and I’ll leave.”

I pause behind the counter. “Why would I yell?”

“Because I didn’t tell you.”

I hold his gaze. “I’m not going to say it doesn’t bother me that you didn’t tell me. It does. It feels like you didn’t want to share that part of yourself with me, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you, Nico. That label, as Callie so sweetly put it to your mom, doesn’t change anything. It explains a lot,” I say with a smile, “but it doesn’t change a thing.”