Page 57 of Texting My Mafia Savior

Me:I’m not judging you. I care about you, Nico. More than I can understand. More than I should be able to. I cared about you the moment I walked into that cafe—every word you’ve sent me, every text, every touch, every smile. Every time my heart beats faster when I see you or think about you, I’m reminded of just how much I care. I want you. I need you.

“I love you,” I whisper.

Me:So get your butt up here!

Nico:We can’t pretend it’s going to be plain sailing.What about your dad?

Me:I’m not talking about the rest of our lives. I’m talking about tonight. I hate the idea of you sitting down there, beating yourself up. You don’t deserve that.

Minutes pass. I send him another text.

Me:Nico?

“I’m here,” he whispers from behind me.

I gasp and leap to my feet. He’s changed his clothes since the last time I saw him. That makes sense, considering what he’s had to do. He’s wearing a T-shirt, his chest heaving, outlining his strong, muscular shape. He steps forward, his green eyes glinting in the semidarkness, the silver in his hair catching thelight. His expression is heartbreaking. It’s like he thinks I’m going to run away from him.

Instead, I run toward him, throw my arms around his shoulders, and pull myself close. “You had to do it,” I whisper passionately, squeezing into his arms. “There was no other way. You saved Lucy, Nico. You’ve saved so many people by doing what you did tonight.”

He moans, smoothing his hand over my back, pressing down so that our bodies are as close as they can be when we’re clothed. Then he presses his face into my neck like he wants to escape from the world.

I lead him to the couch, sit down, pull his head into my lap, and stroke my fingers through his hair. He shudders, touching my hand.

“You’re stronger than me, Arria,” he says.

“I don’t know if that’s true, but if it is, it’s lucky I’m here for you, right?”

“Is Lucy okay?” he says after a pause.

“I think so. She’s getting there.”

“Before Dominic—before I… you know. He rubbed it in my face. Some of the stuff he did to her in the short time they were together. This is a fucked-up world, angel. It’s beyond dark. It’s depraved in all kinds of ways. I’m never going to let anything like that happen to you. Even if the universe pushes us apart, I’ll always be there, watching, protecting.”

“Texting,” I whisper.

He laughs dryly. “That should be corny, but it’s not. Texting is special for us, isn’t it? It always will be.”

“I was telling Lucy that. I’m not sure she gets it. I’m not sure anybody else would except for us. What do you want to do, Nico?”

“Nothing,” he says. “Just lie here with you. Just be with you. What time do you need to go home?”

“I texted Mom earlier and told her I’d be staying at Lilly’s. So I can be here all night. In the guestroom. Or maybe…”

He looks up at me, his eyes burning with green, hungry fire. I’ve never felt so wanted, so desired. I never knew a woman could even feel this way. “Technically, I’m still your uncle,” he murmurs. “Dominic’s man works fast… but notthatfast.”

“Technically,” I say. “That’s an interesting word. To me, it might as well mean, ‘not really.’ You and Aunt Lucy were never together.”

“My life is one of titles. Uncle, Savior, Nightmare, Barbarian.”

“You don’t have to be any of those,” I tell him. “Tonight, you can just be with me.”

“I can think of some other titles,” he says. “Lover, boyfriend, husband. Father.” His tone gets wistful. “I know I’m rushing ahead. But the world doesn’t seem so dark when I think of myself with those labels.”

I lean down and kiss him on the lips. He groans and sits up, pulling me closer, kissing me passionately—heat blossoms between us.

“What about my nicknames, huh? I can’t just haveangel.”

“Lover, girlfriend, wife. Mo…”

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