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“How long?”
“Can we order some food first and resume the questioning session later?”
Nico ignores my question. “Five years?”
“And you say I’m the impatient one?” I flag down the waiter and pry open the heavy, leather-bound menu, scanning the cursive font detailing each item.
“You are when you want to come.”
“Stop it.” I kick his shin, and Nico winces.
The waiter appears, and we place our orders.
Then Nico asks, “Seven years?”
Fuck it. “Almost ten,” I correct him.
His hand lands on my thigh beneath the tablecloth, a touch much more comforting than the sexual connotation it usually has. The gesture briefly silences the nerves exploding beneath my rib cage.
“A decade-long secret. Impressive.”
“It’s not as devious as it sounds,” I say. “Just private information I haven’t shared with anyone.”
“Kind of like what you’re doing withus.”
“Amutualdecision,” I remind him. “Any other questions?”
“How are you feeling right now?”
My head jerks back slightly. He asked the last thing I expected him to ask, and it’s only adding to the confusing things I’m starting to feel for him.
Maybe I can trust Nico to keep this secret between us.
Maybe.
Relief blooms in my chest. As though the nagging itch of constantly being extra careful, weaving my way out of conversations, or simply hiding a part of myself has been subdued for the first time in a decade.
I feel…okay?
“I’m struggling to process it. Maybe the words that come to mind areanxiouswith a sprinkle ofimpressed?”
He did piece together my entire alter ego in a matter of weeks.
“The last thing I want to do, Lily, is stress you out. Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. I’ll forget the whole thing.” He looks around the room. “I didn’t realize when I picked this restaurant that it would have a theme to match its name.”
For the first time this evening, I take a moment to glance around the opulent space. Chandeliers hang from the ceilings, each iridescent piece of glass cut into the shape of a cherry. Baroque-style picture frames decorate the gilded wallpaper, each picture a variation of the pitted fruit. Every square inch of this restaurant is covered in little patterns of cherries, even the white cloth napkin in my lap and the earrings our waiter is wearing.
The absurdity of it forces laughter from me.
“There’s my favorite sound.” Nico smiles. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I was having a little bit of fun without realizing the gravity of the situation.”
“I’m not upset with you,” I say, catching my breath.
“Okay, good. I didn’t want any secrets between us. I want to know everything about you simply because you captivate me.”
A blush melts across my skin. “Such a heartbreaker with words like that.”
“I’d gladly break my heart for you.”
