“What’s up? Don’t you like seafood?”
“No, no, it’s fine,” he assures me and walks ahead.
We’re a bit late for dinner, but we still get a table in a corner. Nicko has grown quiet and tense, so I hope being out of the spotlight will settle his nerves again.
I look around before I unbutton my parka and then quickly sit down, hoping to hide the ratty sweater Nate picked for me.
At least the waiter has left us right after leading Nicko and me to our table, but I feel like he’s judging me from across the room. I pluck at the collar of my sweater. Nicko fits in much better in his button-down, and I have to tear my eyes away from his throat once more.
“I really like this place. I brought my moms here when they came for a visit last spring. The food is amazing,” I comment to distract myself, looking at the naval-themed decorations. Fishing nets and anchors hang from the walls while oversized seashells are scattered on the tables.
I watch as Nicko’s fingers trail the ribbed back of one of the shells between us. Unable to resist, I cover his hand with mine.
He stares at it, then turns his head to look at the other guests sitting nearby, none of which are even remotely interested in us. His hand is warm under mine. I hum and brush my thumb over his knuckles, smiling at the soft contact that is new for both of us.
“What can I get you to drink?” The voice of the waiter makes us jump. Nicko’s hand disappears back under the table, and I resist the urge to growl.
“We need another minute, thanks.”
I wait until he has disappeared between the other tables before I lean over again. Nicko is back to looking around, brows drawn low over his eyes, jaw working.
“They make these really good mussels. It’s like this big pot, and you get fries with it. If you like, we could share it?” I suggest.
Nicko’s lips move, but there’s no sound coming out.
“Hm?”
He grimaces, looks at the ceiling, then closes his eyes for a second. I didn’t think he was that opposed to sharing food, but okay. “They have other–”
“I’m allergic to shellfish.”
His voice is a bit too loud, too fast, but the words register quickly, and I feel my brows shoot up my forehead.
“Really? But Nate isn’t–” I interrupt myself from sounding like an idiot. They’re two separate people, and I already know they differ from each other in many areas.
“Shit, why didn’t you say so earlier?” Now the tension in his shoulders makes sense. Eating here might very well...kill him?
“Justhowallergic? Are you...like do you react to the smell? Or just if you eat…?” I ask, looking around. The tables closest to us are already finished.
“No, not that bad,” Nicko huffs and shifts in his chair. “But I definitely couldn’t share any mussels with you.”
“Yeah, no shit,” I mutter, then shake my head and get up. “Okay, let’s go somewhere else.”
“What? I thought you liked this place. I could just…watch you eat?”
I huff and look at him, pulling my parka on. “Nicko, please. Yeah, I like this place, but I wouldn’t make you watch me eat. Besides…” I bite my tongue and wait until we’re outside in the cool night air. Nicko does perk up, but he also looks at me uneasily.
I sigh, taking a step to the side to lean against him. The warm contact dissolves the lingering shock. “I want to kiss you later and not have our date end in the ER, so…what do you feel like?”
“Bit presumptuous to think that I’d let you kiss me,” he teases, a smile playing around his lips. “How about burgers?”
***
“Why did you even let me take you to a seafood restaurant if you’re allergic?” I ask. I can already laugh about the situation as we’re following the pier that stretches along the lakeside. We each grabbed a burger and some fries at a nearby food truck. Next to us the water is quiet and nearly black in the dark, the lights of the city shimmering on its surface.
“Uh, because this isa date, Xanxan. Didn’t you know?” he snarks, bopping me on the nose with a French fry. His sass makes me huff, even as the emphasis sparks a giddy feeling inside of me.
“Oh, we’re on a date? Damn, that almost slipped me,” I mutter, laughing when Nicko shoves me into the next bush.
