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LILY
We dryoff and fall into bed together, making up for lost time. Exploring each other’s bodies and ignoring the incessant buzz of Nero’s cellphone inside his pants on the floor. It’s early afternoon, and we’re not dressed, but I don’t care. I’m more at ease right now than I’ve felt in a long time.
Nothing has really changed, except that I’ve finally decided what side I’m on in all this. I’m not just along for the ride, trying to decide if I’m going to talk to the FBI or not. I’ve firmly aligned myself with Nero, and while that’s scary, because of the dangerous lifestyle he lives, it’s also somehow freeing. I’m not stuck in that dark, uncertain place anymore, afraid to make a decision and unsure about what’s right.
I’m following my heart. And it’s always led me straight back to him.
“When did you get this one?” I ask, tracing the tribal-style band tattooed around his bicep. It’s comprised of thick black lines intersecting and completely encompasses his arm. “It must have hurt when the artist did your inner arm.”
“Like a bitch,” he admits with a grin. “But don’t tell anyone that. I just got it last year.”
The two of us are laying on our sides, facing each other, with the sheets barely slung over our naked bodies. It’s the first time I’ve had the luxury of reveling in the afterglow with him, sunlight streaming through the windows, and the outside world the last thing on our minds.
“And this one?” I lightly brush my fingers over his pectoral muscle, where the skull is.
“That one’s much older. Eight years.” He pauses, a shadow passing over his expression. “Some things need to be remembered, you know?”
I nod, but I don’t press. I don’t need to hear what dark occasion he was marking. It’s all in the past.
My fingertips move onwards, tracing the rest of his ink, and the smooth planes of his muscles. “I’ve thought about getting one,” I muse, stretching. “Maybe something small and girly on my hip, like a butterfly or a rose.”
“If you get a flower, it should be a lily,” he says, tracing the spot on my hipbone. He leans down and presses his lips there, making me giggle His hands trail warmly over my thighs, languid, like we have all the time in the world.
I sigh happily. I like him like this. He’s so relaxed, and the casual touches make my heart flutter every time. The stern, tortured man I married is nowhere to be seen, and in his place is a glimpse of the boy I once knew. The one who won my heart.
It’s touching to know that he’s not gone forever.
“Let’s get away.”
Nero lifts his head, a playful smile on his face.
“What?” I blink, shocked. “Now?”
“Why not?” he grins. “ I never gave you a proper honeymoon, so let’s go somewhere right now. Get all romantic, away from everything.”
“Is that even possible?” I ask, my excitement growing. “With everything happening right now…”
“Even more reason to get some distance.” Nero sits up, pushing back his messy dark hair. “What do you say? The Feds would probably take it the wrong way if I left the country, but we could do something here. How about San Francisco?” he suggests. “Have you ever been?”
“I… No. I mean, yes, that sounds amazing.” I can’t believe it. It’s so spontaneous and thoughtful, I never would have expected this from him in a million years.
“Then let’s do it.” Nero leans over and kisses me. “Next stop: California.”
* * *
Just a few hours later,we’re clear across the country. I should have guessed Nero would barely blink at the logistics: From the first-class flight to the fancy rental car to the luxurious hotel room, everything has just appeared out of nowhere.
The man knows how to get what he wants.
“After you,” he says, smiling, as he ushers me into the hotel lobby. It’s huge and glamorous, with deco details and an old school charm. Thanks to the time difference, it’s still afternoon, and it’s a clear, sunny day.
A concierge meets us right there. “Mr. Barretti, I hope you had a pleasant flight. Please, allow me to show you to your suite.”
He leads us straight to the elevator, bypassing the line of guests at the check-in desk.
I smile. “The last trip I took, I drove with a girlfriend to Albuquerque,” I note wryly, smiling as we step into the gilded elevator. “We lived off vending machine junk food and slept in a crummy motel by the freeway. This is quite the upgrade.”
Nero smiles, arm slung around my shoulder. “Nothing but the best for my baby.”
