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“Don’t you dare,” says Jo, also pushing to sit up. “If you run every time we’re here, it’ll make us suspicious.”
He smiles. “You’re right, sorry. I’m Nero.”
“Um, the flower guy,” says Amanda, flopping down on the couch.
“The liar,” adds Jess. I kick her under the blanket, giving her a warning glare.
Nero winces. “She told you about that, huh?”
“She tells us everything. You should take a seat, let’s talk,” says Jo, pointing to the chair.
Nero stares at me warily, but I’m enjoying this way too much to help him out, so I sit back, folding my arms over my chest. He sighs, lowering into the chair. “Why are you here?” asks Amanda.
“I wanted to check Tessa was okay after everything lately.”
“Didn’t you do that over coffee today?” asks Jo, arching a suspicious brow.
“We did,” says Nero uncomfortably, “but I . . . shit, I don’t have a reason other than I needed to see her because I had this uncontrollable urge to just be near her.”
I see Amanda almost swoon and I nudge her. She needs to be stronger than falling at the first hurdle. “Quite the charmer,” Amanda says, recovering quickly.
“What’s with the lorry load of flowers this week?” asks Jo.
“I wanted her to know I was thinking of her because I knew it would be hard to stand in court and talk about everything.”
“What are your intentions?” asks Jess, and we all turn to look at her. “What? I saw it in a film.”
“Usually asked by a father figure,” Jo points out, laughing.
“Don’t pretend we’re not curious. We want to know why he’s hanging around,” says Jess.
“Honestly—” Nero begins.
“You don’t have to answer that,” I cut in, feeling uncomfortable.
“I messed up before. I let a wonderful woman go and I hate myself for it.”
I stare down at my hands, unable to look at him and take the compliment. “So, you want another chance?” Jo questions.
“Why should she ever give you another chance?” asks Jess.
“She shouldn’t,” says Nero simply. “I don’t deserve it after what I did. But I’d like the chance to start over, as me. No lies, no secrets.”
“Can you give us a minute?” I ask. The girls go into the kitchen to replenish snacks and drinks.
Nero looks nervous as I turn back to him. “I know you’re probably about to give me the reasons you can’t give me a chance, and I get it, I know why you’d be wary. But let me just say this.” He takes a breath. “I spent the last six months working on myself. To be better. I changed my job, got a house, put down roots. That’s huge for me. But most of all, I did it because I wanted to be a better man for you. That’s what you deserve. I did courses on domestic violence, so I could understand it better. I don’t ever want to be that police officer who doesn’t get it. I’ve thought about you every day, driving myself mad because I’ve forced myself to stay away until I’m good enough for you. And now I think I’m there, I can’t bear to think you’ll send me away without at least giving me one chance.” My heart aches at his words. “But it is your choice. Completely. So, if you tell me that I have no chance and you want me to leave and never come back, this time I’ll go. Because I understand it must be your choice, just like I get this all needs to be at your pace.”
I stand, and he does the same, hurt filling his expression. He hangs his head and takes a few deep breaths, bracing himself for my rejection.
I hold out my hand, and he glances up in confusion. “Hi, I’m Tessa Cole.”
Relief floods his face as he takes my hand. “I’m Tristan Neroli, but people call me Nero.”
“I like Tristan,” I tell him.
He grins. “Tristan it is.”
The girls rush in and throw themselves around us so we’re all in one big hug. “Something tells me you were listening in,” I accuse.
