Page 21 of Hold Me Today

“What will Effie think?” Effie, who knows all about my stupid crush from yesteryear. Effie, who was right there with me when all the Greek mamas and grandmothers at church couldn’t keep my name out of the rumor mill for months. Even now, years later, they still whisper about that timeKyriaStamos found her grandson in bed with Bad Girl Mina Pappas. “What about your mom?”

“They’ll know the truth,” he tells me simply. “They’d never believe we were dating anyway.”

“Because we aggravate each other.” My voice is small, a sentence more than a question only because I deliberately keep every word succinct.

Nick spares me a quick, searching glance. The onceover is done before I can savor it—no,notsavor anything. Slowly, he shakes his head, and his wild curls fall across his forehead deliciously. “A girl like you would be bored by me, Ermione. And a guy like me . . . you’d burn me without thought.”

You’d burn me without thought.

Growing up, I was called dumb, stupid, slow. I know now that I had a severe case of undiagnosed dyslexia. It made learning hard, reading harder. But in my adult life, I’ve been called worse: reckless, bad, slut.

I don’t sleep around, but when I do choose to let a man in my bed, it’s with the understanding that there’s nothing more to it than uncomplicated sex. One and done. I’ve always preferred to work toward my dreams of opening my own salon than be caught up in guy drama.

You’d burn me without thought.

I’m not so dumb that I can’t read between the lines: Nick thinks I’d hit it and quit it. Quithim. That I’d do to him what I’ve done to the other six men who have ever shared my bed.

Six.

Not sixteen or sixty or six-hundred.

It takes every ounce of control not to let my voice shake when I finally gather the strength to speak. “I’ve never burned anyone.” Those aren’t the words I wanted to say, but they’re the words that come out regardless. “Just because you love being in a relationship doesn’t give you any right to judge how I live my life. Not everyone wants to settle down.”

His head jerks back, full lips parting. “What the hell are you talking about?” The question comes in Greek, and it’s almost ironic to me that it’s his default language. When he’s excited. When he’s angry. And, apparently, when he’s completely flummoxed too.

My shoulders hitch up. “You make it sound like I’m . . . flighty, like I jump from bed to bed.”

Awareness enters his expression, turning his pewter eyes a deeper hue, the color of a stormy sky just before the winds wreak havoc. “Mina, I didn’t—” He cuts his hand through his hair, pulling at the curly strands. “That’s definitelynotwhat I meant. I’m not judging you. Fuck, I’veneverjudged you.”

Nick plays favorites with Greek obscenities, and, at the very English four-letter curse, steam rolls off my back. “Thank you.” I pause. “So, we’d date in name only.”

Nick’s nod is short and clipped. He meets my gaze, and I see hesitation lingering there. “You’re Effie’s best friend, Mina. You can tell me no and I’ll still work on your salon.” Again he spears a hand through his wild hair. “Gamóto,” he grunts, “I shouldn’t have even asked you. It’s crossing so many boundaries.”

He’s a rule-follower. Nice guy, Saint Nick.

And I’m reckless, at least according to all our family and friends.

“I’ll do it.”

His body snaps in my direction. “What?”

Old crushes stay dead, right?I swallow, hard, and pray I’m not putting myself in the flames. “We have a deal. You work on my salon and I’ll . . . I’ll date you.” I try to crack a grin. “For the record, I wouldn’t sleep with you anyway. I don’t mess around with Greek guys.”

Dark brows arch high. “Any reason for the aversion?”

There are so many reasons, starting and ending with the fact that nothing else would bring my father more joy than a Greek son-in-law for his Greek daughter. So perfect, so completely nauseating.And what if he turned out to be just like your dad? Controlling, stifling.A shiver slithers down my spine.

Instead of telling Nick the truth, I flash him a wide smile. “It all goes back to one teeny-tiny, pink bikini bottom.” When his jaw snaps closed, I saunter to the desk and grab all the papers I set out earlier. “There I was, a young, impressionable teenage girl, and I thought . . . Greek men are legendary in bed. That’s whateveryonesays, or, you know, at leastCosmodoes. It has to be because they’re packing something extra-large downthere.” I shove the manila folder in my bag, then hang the strap over my shoulder. The coffee cup I pick up and tuck close to my chest before moving toward the door. “Imagine my surprise when I caught sight of the reality after we all went swimming.”

My hand closes over the doorknob just as Nick emits a growl of warning. “It’s called shrinkage. I can promise that—”

“No promises required.” I look back over my shoulder. “I’ll email you all the details for the renovation.”

The last thing I hear is Nick shouting my name.

And I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t put a smile on my face for the rest of the day.

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