“It was a little bit chaotic,” Nico says, taking a sip of his coffee and giving a sharp nod. “But I think we got away with it.” He begins, then, to lay out the details. I hesitate, starting to get up so I can leave them alone, but Christian holds out a hand to me – stopping me in my tracks. Nico w
“NICO!” Christian lunges forward, smacking the coffee table with the flat of his hand, hitting it so hard the legs nearly collapse beneath it, the sound reverberating through the room and making me almost leap from the couch myself. Nico goes very still, his mouth hanging open, staring at Christia
But there’s no time to think on it because Christian heaves a sigh and swings his feet away from me, off the couch, planting them on the floor as he looks seriously between Nico and Frankie. “All right,” he says, nodding like he’s made a decision. “We move forward then, but…with some changes. The fi
“Yeah, yeah,” Tony mutters, though he can’t help the fond little smirk that pulls at his lips as he flaps a dismissive hand at her. He flops back onto the couch across from Christian, where he sat before his beach walk with his fiancé. “Do you mind, Luce?” Christian asks quietly, calmly, nodding h
“No, I think it’s cute,” Lucy says, sitting on the edge of the bed and tilting her head to the side as she considers my second sundress-and-sweatshirt outfit in as many days. “I think you look beachy. Cool.” My shoulders slump a little as I look down at myself, considering. “I’m not sure ‘beachy’
“Ooookay,” Lucy says, shrugging and giving us both a pretty smile. She heads into the living room to wrap an arm around Tony’s waist, grinning up at him. “Come on, Bambs,” Frankie says, smiling at me and tilting his head towards the door. “You grab some money from the sugar daddy, I’ll grab the ca
“Fine, Frankie,” I say, my voice slow and angry. As the words start to spill from me, I wonder where the hell the hesitant girl from this morning went – the one who was too scared to come out of the bedroom without Lucy teasing me into it. “Even if you’re set on just brushing this under the rug, I a
“Because you’ve been ordered to?” I ask quietly, watching him carefully, needing to know. He raises from his little bow and meets my eyes with a seriousness I’m not sure I’ve seen in him before. “No, Bambi,” he replies. “Not because I’m ordered to.” And then he dips down, and grabs the basket I