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“No, actually. I haven’t.”
“Why? I thought you’d want to see how ‘hard’ you look,” I tease.
He sucks in a breath that’s full of a million secrets I don’t think he has any intention of letting free.
But then he shocks the shit out of me by quietly saying, “Because all I’ll see is a fuck-up staring back at me.”
“Nico,” I breathe, instantly regretting sympathising in any way.
Jesus, this man fucks with my head.
Ripping his sad eyes from mine, he thrusts the box at me again to force me into making a choice before he steals a croissant and stuffs it into his mouth.
A tense silence falls between us while I battle with demanding that he keeps talking and kicking his arse out.
“The nurse is discharging me.”
“I know. I’ve already spoken to Toby and organised a lift back for you.”
“You don’t need to do that. I’m more than capable of getting an Uber home.”
9
NICO
The second I confessed to being a failure, I knew she wasn’t going to kick me out.
Sure, she wanted to. But she wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
Because for as vicious as she can sometimes be, Brianna cares. She cares more than I think she’ll ever admit, but I see it every now and then. And even more so when she’s feeling vulnerable.
Her walls are lowered right now. Maybe not as low as they were last night when she allowed me to comfort her, but still lower than normal.
“You’re not going home, Siren.”
Her breath catches as she reads between the lines of that statement.
“I am not going to your place,” she snaps.
“Wouldn’t even have suggested it, babe.”
“Can you quit with that?” she demands. “I’m not your babe, your siren, your anything.”
Her words cut, but I can hardly argue with her.
I’ve spent all these months trying to convince myself that she’s nothing to me. I have no idea why things feel so different just because we’ve both had something akin to a near-death experience.
Now, I’m not suddenly saying that I want her to be something. I guess I’m just less against it.
I’m pretty sure I hit my head harder than the doctors think I did in that crash.
“Sure,” I mutter, reaching for another pastry just to give me something to do and an excuse not to leave.
My face hurts like fuck while chewing, but even with that I can admit that these are the best pastries I’ve had in my life. No wonder she risked my wrath to order some last week.
“Jodie wants you to stay at her and Toby’s place for a bit while you recover.” I expect some kind of response, an argument, but she just sits there picking at her pain au chocolat.
