At least I’d have a chance to shower and change.
I did, and changed into my jeans, even though I knew Nico would prefer I wear something else, that thought making me smile.
By the time I finished dressing, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I said.
Nico came in, then smiled at me, the expression bright for a few fleeting moments before it was gone.
“Everything all right?” I asked, studying him.
“Better,” he said, “now that I see you.”
He pulled me close, kissed me, but then broke away.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starved!”
“How about breakfast for dinner?” he said.
“I’m not going to argue,” I said.
I smiled at him, trying to convey my excitement, my feelings, that distance I’d felt before even stronger now.
But Nico just nodded, then interlaced his fingers with mine as he led me out of my studio.
He wasn’t himself, but I was too nervous to say anything.
I couldn’t put my finger on what, told myself that I was just being weird.
After all, I’d had exactly zero boyfriends.
And Nico was a full-grown man. Complicated, with responsibilities and problems that I could barely scratch the surface of.
If we were going to make this work, I had to be confident.
Trust in him.
Trust inus.
So I did that, trying to enjoy my breakfast for dinner, feeling relieved when he smiled at me, seeming to appreciate my choice of waffles.
“I need to make a stop,” he said after we left the restaurant.
“Sure,” I said.
He drove, though I didn’t recognize the neighborhood.
He stopped in front of a bar, but not one likeCarlo’s.
This place was a little bit more glitzy, not as understated, and the throngs of rough-looking men who were milling outside gave me pause.
“Come with me,” he said.