Page 87 of I Blame the Club

“Not happening.”

He tilts his head, squinting at the mattress as if that might turn it into a double.

“It would be a tight fit but we could make it work.”

I cross my arms, “I barely fit on that bed during my freshman year. There’s no way I would fit on it now, never mind the two of us.”

“I could sleep on top of you?” My brow goes up and Nico sighs, “Fine. I won’t make you sleep on a single bed, as fun as that would be.”

“Fun is not the word I would use for it.”

He sticks out his tongue, “Party pooper.”

I roll my eyes and walk towards the collage of pictures stuck to his closet door. Discarded clothes cover the floor in front of the closet, and the sight of the rumpled silk shirts on the floor has me frowning.

“I know my room is a mess.” Coming up beside me, Nico kicks the pile of clothes into the corner, “Not all of us are neat freaks, you know.”

I shake my head, my gaze stuck on the torn shirt sticking out of the pile, “It’s not the mess.”

“Is it the smell? It can get musty in here.”

My throat tightens unexpectedly as I look from the pile of clothes to the man trying to pry open the dorm’s pathetic window.

“I was just thinking about the night I found you.” I clear my throat, struggling to contain the sudden surge of emotions, “In the parking lot.”

Nico’s smile falters, “Oh that.”

He turns and starts rummaging through his drawers, being careful to look anywhere but my face.

“Lost my favourite top that night. But hey, at least the bruises are gone now.”

I close the distance between us, hesitating only a second before wrapping my arms around him. He crumples against me almost immediately, the shake in his shoulders putting a tightness in my chest that wasn’t there before.

“It was such a good colour, you know? Bold and bright.” His voices cracks and I pull him tighter against me. My skin grows damp as Nico’s tears start to fall, his muffled sobs making me feel weaker than the day I found my sister in the hospital.

Back then, I had a plan of action.

Here, I have nothing.

Swallowing thickly, I let my hands run through his hair the way my mother used to, wishing for the first time I had inherited her knack for providing comfort.

“I should have killed them. The men who did this to you.”

He chokes on a watery laugh, “I would have had to drain my savings to bail you out. Then I would be shirtless and homeless.”

“You’ve never had a problem going shirtless before.”

Nico lets out another laugh before pulling away, “Got to show off this impressive physique somehow.”

Before I can think about what I’m doing, I reach out and wipe the tears off his cheeks. He blinks in surprise but before he can open his mouth, I go ahead and open mine.

“You don’t need a shirt to be bold and bright, Nico. You do that all on your own.” Forcing the weight of emotion off my chest, I nod towards the sad single bed, “Now, what are we going to do about that mattress?”

His face lights up, chasing away the tightness in my chest, “I’ve got an idea.”

“Ta-da!”

Nico grins, motioning towards makeshift queen size mattress assembled on his bedroom floor. Two-thirds of his creation stand at the same four-inch height thanks to the mattress topper from his bed and the spare one he had stashed away, while the other one-third of the bed sits at least two inches lower, the Styrofoam pad pulled off Nico’s dorm bed looking even more depressing lying on the floor.

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