Page 34 of Hooked on Trouble

He steps aside to let them pass. “That stuff for the event business?”

“Yep.” One foot out the door, Shay pauses. “You’re welcome in advance for my gift.” With that, they traipse down the stairs, leaving me with a confused Nico.

He doesn’t close the distance between us. He removes his sunglasses and walks into my apartment, positioning himself on one side of my laminate countertop. I stand opposite him, my back to my living space, a two-foot barrier between us. There’s an emotional gap, too. The same coolness I felt at the slums. It does nothing good for my anxiety.

He studies the room. “Not what I expected.”

I shrug. “It came furnished, and I haven’t had the cash to redecorate.”

My apartment in Toronto was cool. The walls were deep purple, black-and-white photographs decorated the space, and I had a cool beanbag chair and black leather couches. Not to mention the gothic mirror by my bed. This place is beige. Walls, beige. Couch, beige. Carpet, beige. Beige kitchen cupboards and curtains. It hurts my eyes.

What doesn’t hurt my eyes is the colossal giant taking up my kitchen.

He drops his head a moment, like he’s upset or nervous or I don’t know what. My agitation doubles. When he looks up, determination sets his jaw. “There’s something I need to ask you, and I didn’t know how to bring it up. Not sure this is the right time, and I’m not accusing you of anything, but we’re about to spend a couple days together, and I need to get this out.”

Excuse me? Accuse? I don’t know where he’s going with that train of thought, but my knees lock, and I cross my arms. “What exactly is it that I’ve done?”

He mumbles something under his breath and rubs the back of his neck. “Nothing,” he says louder. “Absolutely nothing. But when your wallet was found, your record came up.”

“My record? You looked into me?”

“No. It wasn’t like that. Alessi called, filled me in. Thing is, I haven’t told you, but my sister is a recovering addict. Heroin. She overdosed shortly after Josh got arrested, and it’s been a long haul to get her back on her feet. So when I saw the possession charge, it kind of stopped me cold. I want you, Raven. You have to know I’m falling for you, but drugs are a hard no for me. Can’t risk Nikki being near anything. So I need to know I’m being overly cautious here. That drugs aren’t a part of your life now.”

His words slam into my chest. “What you’re being is an asshole. You think I’m using? Or dealing? You think that little of me?” My knees go from locked to weak, and I grip the counter.

“No. Babe. Fuck. No.” He squeezes his eyes shut, then exhales. “I’m just scared. Scared how much I like you. Scared all the time something will set Nikki back. Scared I can’t keep my family together. Just scared.”

How do I stay mad when those blue eyes plead with me? I don’t like it. The accusation stings. But my stress over searching for Rose doesn’t hold a candle to the weights Nico bears. I press my hipbones into the counter. Closer to him, but still apart. “I’m sorry about Nikki. I didn’t know, and I don’t do drugs now. Haven’t for years. Weed was my thing in high school, nothing harder, but I was out with a friend one night. We got pulled over for a busted taillight. Turns out the idiot had enough heroin in the glove box to slap him with a possession charge, but I told the cops it was mine.”

The big guy frowns. “You took the fall?”

“He was a loser, but not all bad. The reason we were out was because he wanted to talk about getting clean. Asked my advice. He took care of his younger sister. Was really good to her. She needed him around or she’d end up in foster care. So I paid a fine and spent a week in jail. I’d just turned eighteen, had an open record, so all the crap I did when I was younger was tattooed on my file.”

Nico’s cheekbones sharpen. His light eyes take on a darker tone. It’s the same intense look he gave Tim when doling out his final warning. Like he doesn’t approve of the choice I made.

“Look,” I say, tightening my grip on the counter. “I’ve done some messed-up shit in my life, but that’s not who I am now. You and I haven’t spent that much time together, but we both obviously want more. I’m nervous to get involved with you, too, for my own reasons. We either trust each other and give it a shot, or we call it a day. If it’s the latter, I’ll go to Fraser Valley on my own.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He lays his hand palm up on the counter between us. An offering. An invitation. Inexplicably drawn to this man, I place my palm on top of his. His fingers are twice the size of mine. Calluses toughen his skin. He should be intimidating, scary, but he’s a gentle giant. “I’m all in. I just needed to know for sure. I’m sorry for asking. For being distant recently. Can we start over?”

My rush of relief is instant, and surprising. Searching for Rose on my own isn’t what I want. Nico is what I want. Him joining me on this adventure. His strong arms to wrap around me if things don’t go my way. Even right now, with all the sexual tension knotting me up, I also want to press my face into his wide neck and feel his pulse against my cheek. Let it lull me.

When I nod, he rounds the counter, closing the space between us in long strides. His lips capture mine, his huge hands wrapping around my hips. He kisses me so slowly I fall into him.

“Now what’s this about a gift?” he asks against my lips.

Breathless, I nod to the plastic bag on my floor. “Shay thought we might need condoms. You know, just in case.”

The man blushes. It’s so sweet, I nearly drag him to my room, but we have more pressing issues, as well as a night in a motel to look forward to. Our overdue fresh start.

First up, new wardrobes.

I extricate myself from his grasp. “We need to make a stop on our way.”

I grab my bag, but he takes it from me and follows me to his car. Our conversation and Nico’s judging gaze sit heavily at the back of my mind, but I’m tired of holding grudges. I’m all about new beginnings these days. With him. With Rose. As of right now, Nico and I are undercover detectives on a mission. Hiding him in plain sight won’t be easy. Good thing a Value Village isn’t far.

* * *

Speed shopping isn’t Nico’s thing. I drag him around the thrift shop, holding up clothes that might fit his large frame, a deep frown on his face the whole time. Shoving him in a change room proves a challenge. The only reason he agrees is that I promise to listen to his country music for the drive. (He doesn’t know I cross my fingers.) By the time we’re in our new outfits, our bag of old clothes clutched in his hand, Nico is highly unimpressed.