by Lucy Lennox
“She was terrible at bookkeeping, West. I mean, I don’t get it. You don’t have to be good at math, necessarily. Just have basic organization skills,” he said, setting the bottle down and moving Pippa onto his shoulder to rub her back.
Nico was bare-chested, and my stomach tightened at the sight of him holding her against his colorful skin. Little muscles moved as he burped her, and I could make out more of the designs in the light of the morning sun coming through my kitchen windows.
“She barely graduated from high school, Nico, so I’m not surprised she struggled at running a business. Why don’t I help? We could go to your place and work on it together. I don’t have anything planned today,” I suggested.
Nico’s hesitation was clear, but he must have really been concerned about it. “Yeah, okay. I mean, if you don’t mind. You knew her better, so maybe you can figure it out. I hope to god I’m overlooking something because the bakery is seriously in the red.”
I reached over and squeezed his arm. “No worries. I’ll take a look.” After offering to change Pippa’s diaper, I disappeared into the guest room where the portable crib and her supplies were. I made quick work of cleaning her up and changing her into a fresh sleeper outfit from her diaper bag before returning to find Nico finishing up with the dishes.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said in surprise.
He smiled shyly before looking back at the plate he was scrubbing. “You didn’t have to fix me breakfast either. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, but it’s not like it was anything fancy. Your standard thanks for staying over breakfast,” I said on a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.
Even though his face was turned away, I could see him tense up. I shifted the baby into my left arm and slid my right around his front so I could lay my chin on his shoulder.
“What is it?” I asked softly.
“I don’t stay over… Ever.”
There was a beat of silence while I digested what he was telling me.
I tried turning him in my arms but couldn’t manage it while holding the baby. Instead, I walked over to the sitting area and strapped Pippa into her car seat on the floor by the sofa and came back to where Nico was still standing at the sink.
After reaching in front of him to turn off the faucet, I grabbed a towel and dried off his hands before turning him around and lifting his chin. Blue-green eyes narrowed at me in defiance, and I saw clearly the punk he tried so hard to portray to the world.
“Then I am one lucky motherfucker,” I said. My voice sounded hoarse, but I tried to speak with the conviction I felt.
I didn’t give him a chance to argue with me or walk away. Instead, I took his mouth in mine and spoke to him in the only language that mattered.
A kiss.
A couple of hours later we were at Nico’s with Adriana’s company books and receipts spread out all over the kitchen table and the baby settling down into her morning nap in the nursery. Nico had changed into sweatpants and a hoodie when we’d arrived, and I was wearing my most comfortable jeans and a T-shirt. October was coming in with slightly cooler days, and I noticed two pairs of socks doubled-up on Nico’s feet.
He sat on the chair next to mine, and I pointed to his bundled-up feet. “How are you not burning up? It might be October, but this is still Texas.”
“I run cold,” he admitted, typing on the old battered laptop I’d given Adriana when I last upgraded my own.
“I beg to differ,” I replied. “But if you do, you should never have left Texas and gone to the Bay Area where it’s chilly all the time. You should have just stayed here.” I was sorting through payroll notes when I realized what I’d just said. I looked up. “I mean… ah…”
Nico’s jaw ticked. “It’s not like it was a choice.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“What did Adriana tell you?”
“That you probably had a good reason.”
“And you didn’t agree?”
“It’s not that I didn’t agree,” I began. His face darkened at my lie, and I sighed. “No, that’s a lie. I was pissed at you for abandoning her, regardless of the reason.”
His jaw flexed some more, and he looked away. “Fair enough,” he said before peering back at the laptop.
I could tell there was more to it than that. Of course there was. Why the hell had it taken me so many years to realize just how hard it would have been for a fifteen-year-old boy to leave his home? And where the hell had he lived at age fifteen for god’s sake?
My heart ramped up as I watched him. It was like seeing him through fresh eyes.
“Please tell me it wasn’t because of that night,” I said softly.
He grunted an acknowledgment of my words but continued looking at the screen.
“Please, Nico,” I said louder. “Jesus fucking Christ. You heard what Curt said at the movie theater. And then I opened my stupid fucking mouth. Is that why you left?”
Without saying a word, Nico stood up, closed the computer gently, and turned to go to the bedroom.
“Don’t want to talk about it. I’ll figure this shit out later. You don’t have to stick around,” he said over his shoulder.
Chapter 19
Nico
It was a shitty thing to do. I knew that. I’d sounded like a goddamned brat. But it wasn’t something I particularly wanted to discuss, and I wasn’t sure I could say why without bursting into tears like a baby.
I shuffled back to the bedroom and peeled off all the bulky clothes until I was in a T-shirt and boxer briefs before slipping between the cool sheets under the heavy duvet. With one of Adriana’s supersoft pillows bunched up under my head, I closed my eyes and faced away from the bedroom door. My traitorous ears couldn’t help but search for signs of West in the house—wondering if he’d left like I’d told him to or if he’d stayed and was going to force the issue.
My eyes squeezed closed in memory but not the memory of the night at the movie theater. It was something else that had happened a few weeks later.
It was a hot summer day, perfect for the lake. The sun was shining, and the sky was a deep blue. Sheriff Billingham had taken us out on his speedboat for the day in an effort to help the four of us kids get to know each other. Or some shit like that.
It was the town’s Memorial Day celebration, and vendors were lined up along the marina docks and shoreline to celebrate. Farmers’ market stalls were filled with produce and homemade jams, colorful signs and flags and artwork were posted here and there to showcase artist booths set up. Groups of kids chased each other with cotton candy and other treats from the food stalls. And there were piles of whipped cream and empty pie tins stacked on folding tables left over from the pie-eating contest that morning.
The sheriff had suggested taking the opportunity to watch the evening’s fireworks from the boat so we’d have the “best seat in the house” despite the fact all our friends were on shore having fun without us, and the four of us kids at least were less than thrilled.
We were speeding through the warm wind, laid out along the side benches in our swimsuits, when Curt’s brother, Reeve, had asked his dad if he could drive the boat for a little while.
Both boys were proficient at handling the boat. In fact, I wasn’t sure any of the kids from Hobie couldn’t handle themselves on a motorboat. So it surprised me when the boat suddenly lurched toward shore, tipping so far sideways as it crossed its own wake. Water splashed over the edge onto the bench. I scrambled at the side of the boat to grab hold of the gunwale when I heard snickering coming from Curt several feet down the bench from me.
“Jesus, I thought we were going over,” I said with a nervous laugh. Despite being uncomfortable with Reeve at the wheel and still pissed at Curt for what he’d said at the movies, I was trying to be polite and respectful. My mother had warned Adriana and me to be on our absolute best behavior for the outing.
By then, both the boys were regular tormentors of mine in school. They found little opportunities h
ere and there to tease me and poke at me when they could. None of it was serious enough to warrant saying anything—it was more the repetition of the barbs that hurt. Like death of a thousand cuts.
But I’d put on my game face that day for my mom’s sake. I knew she’d fallen head over heels for the sheriff not long after the widower and his sons had moved to town earlier in the year, and Mom had been daydreaming of becoming his wife ever since. I imagined how much easier our lives would have been without her needing to work two shitty-ass jobs and struggle to make ends meet. I thought about what it would be like for her to be able to walk through town as the sheriff’s wife instead of the trailer-trash widow of a good-for-nothing drunk.
Curt leaned his cocky face toward me and whispered low enough for only me to hear. “He’s trying to impress your sister.”
The admission startled me. I glanced at Reeve Billingham at the wheel, noticing him looking proud as a peacock. The guy was seventeen, the same age as my sister.
“That’s gross,” I’d said.
“Tell me about it,” he’d scoffed. “He could have any girl he wanted. What the hell’s he gotta look at a skinny chick with no tits for?”
I felt bile rise up in my throat at the thought of anyone looking at my sister in any kind of sexual way. The use of the word “tits” in relation to her made me want to blow chunks off the side of the boat.
The boat lurched again toward shore, and that’s when I saw who Reeve was really trying to impress. The entire track team and all its fans from the high school were standing on the shore preparing for the massive water balloon fight. Reeve was their star pole vaulter, who’d apparently had to skip out on the team’s fun to hang out with us. He was pulling stunts at the helm of the boat to get his buddies’ attention on shore.
Adriana looked pissed, so I carefully made my way over to where she was sitting on the other side of the boat.
“You okay?” I asked quietly.
She nodded but didn’t open her mouth. Long strands of dark hair blew around her face from where they’d escaped her ponytail holder.
“The guy’s a jerk,” I muttered.
She shrugged. “Meh, he’s okay. I just wish we could go tubing or something fun. This sucks.”
I looked over at my mom who was sitting in the circle of the sheriff’s arms and gazing at his face with rapt attention while he pointed out parts of the boat. My mother had grown up around boats all her life. Her father had been a commercial fisherman out of Galveston, and yet she stared up at the sheriff as if she didn’t know a propeller from a cleat.
“The point is for us to become best friends with these rodents,” I said under my breath. “As if that’s going to happen in this lifetime.”
Adriana blew out a breath, squinting for a minute before turning to me. “Nico, don’t fuck this up for us.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “You want Mom to actually do it? Marry the sheriff so we can all be one big happy Billingham family?”
She looked away, off toward the horizon away from the shore. “If it’s what she wants… And shit—maybe then I could afford to get the hell out of here and go to school in the city.”
She ran a tanned hand across her face in a useless attempt to clear the strands of hair from her eyelashes and lips before looking back toward shore.
I took another glance at our mom just as she leaned her head back in a laugh. The sun was shining on her, casting a glow that made her seem lit up from the inside. It was a rare moment of seeing her in full relaxation mode. She was snuggled against the much larger sheriff, who was busy telling a joke and making her laugh.
Everyone in town seemed to think the sheriff was a cantankerous old grump but the kind who was also somehow endearing. I’d never seen the endearing part. Just the cantankerous part. But then again, I wasn’t the kind of kid he was predisposed to like. I hung out with the different kids. The kids with weird clothes and weird taste. The ones who didn’t wear golf shirts and show up for youth classes at the church. The ones who got caught sneaking cigarettes and cheap-ass beer behind the concession stands at the local high school football games.
Just then the big man turned and caught me staring. In a rare instance of singling me out for a good reason instead of a bad one, he told Reeve to stop the boat so I could take a turn at the wheel. For a brief moment my heart swelled. Maybe I was wrong about his opinion of me. Maybe he didn’t think I was a good-for-nothing. Just for a second I felt like one of his kids—a son he wanted to teach how to drive the boat.
I shot him a grateful smile and stood up to make my way to the wheel after Reeve pulled back on the throttle.
And that’s when two things happened at once.
My sister decided to take my turn at the wheel and pushed me back toward my seat. At the same time, Reeve watched me stand before shoving the throttle forward and whipping the wheel hard to port. The giant boat seemed to rotate on its axis out from under me, and I was in the air before I had a chance to grab ahold on something.
Not only was I thrown overboard by combination of the moves, but I also banged my side hard enough on the edge of the boat to knock the breath out of me and crack a rib. When I hit the water, my surprise incapacitated me for a moment, and I began to sink fast. It was only through the quick-acting people on shore and on the docks that I was recovered.
After it happened, not one of the Billinghams came to visit, apologize, or even just call to check on me while I recovered from the injury. The only thing I ever heard them say about it was when the sheriff asked my mom why I hadn’t been smart enough to wait for the boat to stop before standing up.
As I lay in Adriana’s bed remembering the humiliating event, I forgot about West for a little while. I allowed myself to slip into a familiar self-pity that disgusted me. After pulling my knees up to my chest, I moved the pillow from under my head to over it. Maybe blocking out the world for a little while would help me calm down.
One side of the bed sagged as I felt West climb in next to me. My teeth ground together as I tried to think of what to say when he asked me again about my reasons for leaving.
But he didn’t say a word—just slid in behind me and wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling me in close to his front.
“I won’t say anything,” he said in a quiet voice. “Just let me hold you.”
I removed the pillow from above my head and slid my arm over his, linking our fingers and squeezing to let him know he was welcome company.
We didn’t speak after that for a long time, but I no longer felt alone. And that was all I’d really needed.
Chapter 20
West
When Nico had escaped to the bedroom, I’d had to have a serious conversation with myself about boundaries. It was none of my business what Nico’s reasons for leaving Hobie were. It was more that I was curious because of what his actions had set in motion for Adriana.
After Nico had left, the sheriff had married their mom and Adriana had thought her life was just beginning. But before she’d had a chance to go on and do great things with her life, the accident had happened and she’d been left alone. With nothing but two useless stepbrothers.
Nico’s mom had been at the wheel on the way home from a party at a friend’s house when they’d hit a tree. Both she and the sheriff had been killed in the accident, and alcohol had been found in both of their systems.
Once Adriana’s mom was gone, the Billingham boys were all she had left.
And they were shit—incompetent and unwilling to take responsibility for helping support Adriana. Thanks to the fluke of being paired with my sister MJ on a school project senior year, Adriana had begun spending time at our place after school. Long after the project was completed, she’d continued hanging out at our house, and if my parents had noticed, they hadn’t cared.
Both the sheriff’s boys had enlisted in the military. Adriana had been forced to find her own way without any help. Once the boys were gone, she was left with no one. Even my sister MJ had gone off
to college and then law school.
By the time I returned to Hobie for good after becoming a doctor, Adriana had turned a part-time job at a coffee cart in the local grocery store into a side business of baking pastries, cakes, and specialty desserts for people all over town. At one point, a tropical storm had come through town and flooded her mom’s old trailer, so she took the insurance money and put it toward the construction of her little cottage. After it was finished, she finally had a decent kitchen with a commercial oven and a huge table to spread out on. I’d thought she had everything she’d wanted. Her life finally her own.
Little did I know, she’d been lonely as all hell. Lonely for family—for Nico.
I remember wondering at one point what had happened to him, where he’d gone at so young an age. It turned out, he’d gone to San Francisco and built a life for himself on his own. How in the world had he managed it? Nico was way more complex and capable than I’d originally given him credit for.
I’d been curled up around the guy for at least a half hour before I could no longer keep from running my hands under his T-shirt and into his boxer briefs. He sucked in a breath and pushed his cock into my hand.
“Lie back,” I whispered.
He turned on his back and looked up at me, a purple lock of hair falling across his face. His dark eyelashes were beautiful and set off the varied colors of his eyes.
“And here I thought your sister was the most beautiful person I’d ever met,” I murmured before leaning in to brush a kiss across his nose, across the flat of his cheekbone, down the side of his jaw. I took a moment to strip his shirt and underwear off before returning to where I’d left off.
I trailed soft presses of my lips down the length of a coiled snake on his chest, across the brushstrokes of random script, and down again along a tattooed image of rosary beads until I came to the top of his trimmed pubic hair. My eyes came up to gaze at him while my tongue snuck out to search for that velvet skin I was hungry for.