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I roll my neck, trying to stretch away the worry nagging at my vertebrae.
Did I forgive him too quickly?
“Whatever, no need to recount,” Tate says as he pats his wife on her back. “Plus, honey, remember he upgraded our suite as an apology for theentiremonth of our trip.”
Is this the norm? Nico fucks up and throws money at hurt feelings in the hope they’ll disappear?
The tropical cocktail in my stomach starts to curdle. I’ve let him do exactly that.
But maybe I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Nico’s made a massive effort since his apology. He’s notperfect, but it truly looks like he’s attempting to be a better friend to me.
Tara sits back in her seat, brushing away the rows of thick braids from her shoulder. “So, Lily, what do you do?”
I know how easy it is to fall into old stories with friends, and I feel a brief rush of appreciation for her trying to include me in the conversation.
As she blinks at me expectantly, I realize I don’t have a clear answer.
“Still figuring it out,” I manage to say, avoiding the long list of nonsense I could offer instead.
I’m unemployed. I have a ten-year-old secret. My novella is floating around a bestseller list. The same novella I may or may not have written last summer about a certain disorganized…
No.
It wasn’t about him.
There were a lot of hot guys I hooked up with last summer, plenty of whom were tall and rather handsome.
Oh, there’s also the fact I’m a twenty-seven-year-old undergraduate student who can’t seem to graduate.
Nico’s warm hand finds its way to my leg, and his thumb runs along the inside of my knee. A touch so simple, yet so kind.
“I’m going to need another coffee. Tate, want to come?” Nico shimmies out of his seat and stands.
“Yes, let’s go.” Tate joins him. “Ladies, would you like anything?”
Tara turns her wide brown eyes over to me. “More mimosas?”
“Sure, why not?” I shrug.
The last month has flown by, and our last day in Brazil calls for a bit of celebration. Maybe Nico’s finally rubbing off on me, and I should let him.
When the guys are out of earshot, Tara grabs my wrist, almost pulling me across the table.
“You have to tell meeverything. I have been dying for some girl talk.” Her voice drops as if we’re being observed by the paparazzi. “How did you start traveling with Nico?”
“Oh, it’s a long story.”
I don’t want to talk about my and Nico’s sex life right now. Especially not when I’m starstruck and totally out of my element.
“We have time,” she says.
I check the line at the cafe; a few people stand ahead of Nico and Tate.
Tara grins from ear to ear and leans forward on the glass tabletop, waiting for my response.
There’s no escape.
“We were both at my best friend’s wedding, where she married Nico’s older brother, Luca. Turns out Nico had an extra ticket to Brazil when one of his friends bailed on the trip at the last minute, so he transferred that ticket to me. Against my own will.” I laugh. “I wasn’t going to go at all, but my flight home from the wedding got canceled, and I recently got fired and failed one of my classes. So I thought, fuck it, what’s the worst thing that can happen if I don’t go back to New York?”
