Nico tells me dinner is ready and puts out an entire meal of salad, vegetables and the main dish. I noticed that he didn’t answer my question, and I’m not sure if it was intentional or just the timing.
We sit at the table for a long time after we eat. I tease him about how domestic he is and he teases me about how dependent I am on takeout. He laughs when I tell him I’m on a first name basis with at least five deliverymen. Our conversation flows naturally and time goes by fast. Too fast. Eventually we relocate to the couch and our conversation turns to how he got into MMA. Nico tells me he’s the youngest of four boys and was raised by a single mother who worked two jobs.
“I got my ass kicked a lot. My mom was at work at night and my brothers were into wrestling big time.”
I laugh at the notion that Nico could get his ass kicked. “You? I hate to see what your brothers look like.”
Nico laughs, “I was always big for my age. When I was eight or nine my mother would warn my brothers that some day I was going to be bigger and stronger and get even with them for the years of ganging up on me. I don’t think they expected that day to come when I was only twelve.”
“How old were your brothers when you were twelve?”
“We’re all two years apart so they were fourteen, sixteen and eighteen.”
“You were bigger than the eighteen-year-old at twelve?”
“I don’t know if I was bigger than him back then. But I could fight better. I remember the day that it happened too. Joe, the eighteen-year-old, came home and I was drinking out of his cup.”
“His cup? He had his own cup?”
Nico laughs. “It sounds worse than it is. But yeah, he had a cup and none of us were allowed to drink out of it. I used to take it out when he wasn’t home and pour a big glass of milk and dunk my cookies into it.”
“On purpose?”
“Yeah, on purpose. I liked to use it when he wasn’t home, it gave me a secret satisfaction.” Nico smiles and shakes his head, realizing how silly it sounds to have taken satisfaction from using someone else’s cup. “But one day he came home early and caught me. We went at it like we usually did. We broke the coffee table and the end table wrestling around. Mom used to get pissed when we broke the furniture. But after we rolled around for a while, I pinned his ass to the floor.”
I smile watching Nico tell his story with such fondness in his voice. I’d never heard anyone speak of fighting with such reverence. To me, fighting has always meant hatred and violence and ugly things. But oddly enough, when Nico speaks of his brothers he makes it sounds like it comes from love and beauty.
Nico stands, “How about a glass of wine?”
“Sure, I’d love that.”
Nico brings me a glass of wine, but nothing for himself. “Aren’t you having one?”
“I don’t drink when I’m training.” He sits next to me on the couch, much closer than he had been before. My leg touches his inadvertently when I lean forward to set my drink down and when I look back at Nico he’s looking at our legs where they meet. He notices me watching him and he brings his eyes back to mine. I’m mesmerized as he looks into my eyes and then slowly his eyes drop to my mouth for a long moment. I can tell he’s forcing his gaze back to mine against his will when his beautiful green eyes refocus on mine. His eyes are dilated now and my breath hitches when I see my own desire reflected back at me.
“Oh.” I swallow hard. What were we talking about? Drinking. Drinking while training. “Are you training for a fight?”
Something different passes over his face at my question, and I’m not sure what it is. “Not really.” Nico ponders for a second. “But if you ask Preach, he might say differently.” He chuckles. The mood has changed and I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or relieved.
I lean forward and take another sip of my wine. “Preach?”
“He’s my trainer.”
I wait for more, but nothing comes. “Why would Preach think you’re training for a fight if you aren’t?”
“Because he thinks he knows me better than I know myself.”
“Does he?” Nico is surprised by my question. I watch as he thinks before he responds. I like that he doesn’t just spit out an answer. He seems to consider his words carefully.
“Maybe. I’ve been with him since I was fifteen. He does know me pretty well.”
“He started training you when you were fifteen?”
“No, not at first. When I was fifteen my mom lost her second job, so my uncle got me a job at a gym so I could help out. Preach hired me to clean up and hold the heavy bag while the fighters trained. One afternoon, the regular sparring practice guy didn’t show and I talked Preach into letting me fill in. I was good at blocking shots from my three brothers, so it wasn’t hard for me to catch their shots with the pads. I did that for a little while and then one of their best fighters, who I thought was an arrogant ass**le, took a cheap shot at me while we were sparring and it pissed me off, so I hit him back and we went at it. I wound up kicking his ass and the rest is history. Preach started training me after that.”
We spend the next few hours talking about my work and Nico’s family. When he finally drives me back home, the early morning people are already out jogging. The whole night flowed effortlessly, without any uncomfortable moments until we’re in front of my apartment building.
Nico parks his bike and helps me off, not releasing my hand when I’m off. He stands close and looks down at me and I think he’s going to kiss me. But instead he leans down until I feel his breath on my neck. My whole body responds and I lean in against him ever so slightly, but it’s enough for my body to be grazing up against his tight chest.
His mouth is so close to my ear, it sends shivers down my spine. I want him to kiss me so badly, but don’t want to want him to kiss me. His words are a whisper in my ear as he speaks. “I’d love to see you again. You let me know when the not really turns into a solid no.”
My body is in heat from being so close to him. I’m disappointed he doesn’t kiss me, but relieved at the same time. He’s right for reminding me about William. Nico releases the hand that he is still holding and I smile up at him before I turn to walk away. I take a few steps away from him and turn back. “Why did you pick me up on a motorcycle if you have an SUV in the garage?”
Nico looks down sheepishly and then I see the cocky lopsided smile that just melts me somehow. “I wanted to feel your arms wrapped around me tightly.”
Right. Damn. Answer. He’d kept his word all night and been a perfect gentleman. I smile at him and begin to turn to walk away, but my feet take me back in the other direction. They seem to have a mind of their own. I need to feel him once more. I rush the four steps it takes me to get back in his space. Nico doesn’t move, he stays still and watches me intently. Waiting. I reach up and press my lips firmly to his and the electricity that had been threatening my body all night zaps to full wattage. Sparks. Fusion. Jolt. It overpowers me. We instantly melt into each other. Nico wraps his arms around my waist, our bodies pressing firmly against each other, neither of us able to get close enough. His arms are locked so tight, there’s no way I could escape if I wanted to. But I definitely don’t want to.
When we finally break the kiss, we’re both panting. Nico leans his forehead into mine and I catch my breath enough to speak. “I wanted to feel your arms wrapped around me tightly, too.”
Nico smiles at my words and I turn to walk away. I really don’t want to walk away, but I know if I don’t, I won’t be able to very soon. I walk up the stairs feeling his eyes on my ass with every step and my hips put on a show as they sway with renewed enthusiasm. I open the door and look back to find him watching me and not ashamed to let me know it. I shut the door and lean against it. What the hell am I doing?
Chapter 7
Nico
I’m up at five a.m. every morning. Well, every morning except today. I slept like shit, my body a mass of pent-up frustration. I kept my word all night. Even though all I wanted to do was pick her up, carry her into my bedroom, and ram myself into her to claim her as mine. Then she kissed me. I know I could have taken it further after that kiss. But I don’t want one night with Elle. I want more. I have no idea why, but I do. A lot f**king more.
By the time I drove back home last night, I’d gotten myself under control. I’d reasoned with my hard-on until it finally saw my way. Who knew you could reason with a f**king hard-on. I guess I never tried. I just took care of it, did what it wanted me to.
But then I walked into my loft and I smelled her. And all reasoning went out the window. I couldn’t sleep with a steel pipe in my pants, so I took a cold shower. It didn’t help. Then I was wide awake with a hard-on. I tossed and turned with a picture of Elle smiling at me in my head. Taunting me for being such a sap.
The constant hum of the bell from downstairs reminds me how late I am. It’s almost six. I buzz the elevator up and lift the gate and find Vinny standing there. I swear the kid grew overnight. At thirteen he’s only a few inches shy of six foot already. The kid’s going to be a force of nature sooner, rather than later.
“What the f**k?” The smartass kid has balls of steel to look at me and talk that way. He reminds me of me at that age, and I force myself to cover the smile. I can’t let him think it’s okay to show disrespect.
“Language.” I say sternly.
He rolls his eyes and looks like a teenager again. “What are you, my mom?”
If I was his mom, I’d still be high from the night before. Cracked up on whatever today’s loser brought with him. A different loser every day, but it’s always the same story. She f**ks him to get her high for eight hours. It could be bleach he hands her to shoot into her vein. The last time I saw her she was so desperate, it might have been better if someone actually gave her bleach. Put her out of her misery. The kid might be better off in the long run.
“No, I’m not your mom. But I can kick your ass with one hand behind my back, so show me some respect you little shit.”
“So you can curse, but I can’t?”
“I’m an adult.”
“Hypocrite.”
I rub my hands across my face, losing my patience after my lack of sleep. “Go downstairs and give me five miles on the treadmill. If there is any time left before school we’ll train, big mouth.”
Vinny groans, but quickly starts back toward the elevator. When I started training with Preach, all I wanted to do was learn moves. I hated cardio too, it was punishment to a kid who was in a room with a good trainer.
I take my time making my protein shake and make one for Vinny before I head down to the gym. I know there probably isn’t any food in his house. Some of these kids only stay in school because they know they can get a free meal there.
Vinny is drenched in sweat as he runs full out on the treadmill. I smirk as I pass him. I would have done the same thing. The faster you’re done with the cardio, the faster you get to the fighting.
“Preach says you might fight Kravitz.” Vinny gives me a quick left and I duck and easily sweep out his legs while he attempts to rebalance from his miss.
“You’re leaving yourself exposed. Lean into it. Set up your legs.” I extend my hand and pull Vinny back to his feet.
“So is it true? Are you getting back in the cage?”
“Stop gossiping like a little girl and take me down.” The kid needs to focus. Plus, I don’t have an answer to give him.
Vinny shoots in and tries for a double leg takedown. The kid is definitely becoming more explosive.
“Nose up. Back straight. Again.”
He shoots, I wobble for a second, but I don’t fall. Someday kid. Someday.
After another twenty minutes, he’s drenched and I’m warmed up for the day. “Jump in the showers. Make it fast. You got 25 minutes to get to school. If I find out you’re late, next week will be ten miles on the treadmill and there will be no time for training, no matter how fast you run.”