Page 51 of The Casting Couch

I stared straight ahead.“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the flutter in my chest.Because here’s the thing: he didn’t gross me out.The idea of Nico, naked, grinning, and making a mess on me, wasn’t horrifying.It was… complicated.Hot, sure.But also confusing and a little thrilling in a way I wasn’t ready to admit.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” I muttered, before I could stop myself.“It’s… the other guys.”

He quieted for a moment.“I get that.”

There was a pause, then he leaned in a little.“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah.”

“I know about the jail stuff.”

My whole body went stiff.“Of course you do.”

“But I don’t care.”

I looked at him, really looked, trying to find a crack in the effortless charm.There wasn’t one.He just meant it.

“Nasty shit happens to good people,” he said.“Sometimes you get knocked down hard.Doesn’t mean you’re not a good person.”

I swallowed.“I’ve never thought of myself that way.‘Good.’”

“Well,” he said, nudging his knee against mine, “maybe it’s time you started.And until then… I got you.You’re not going through this alone.”

Something inside me softened, just slightly.I wasn’t used to this.To kindness that didn’t come with strings.

He took another sip and smirked.“And hey, if it helps, I promise to make my contribution to your many facials… tastefully.”

“Oh, my God.”I buried my face in my hands.

He cackled.“You walked right into that one.”

“Please stop talking.”

“Never.You’re too fun when you’re flustered.”

I groaned, but a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, anyway.Somehow, in the span of a drink and a half, Nico had managed to pull me out of the pit I’d been spiraling into all afternoon.

He glanced at his phone and then nudged me lightly with his elbow.“Hey… I’m doing a set tonight.Open mic at a bar in Bushwick.Nothing fancy.Mostly sad hipsters and comics who peaked in 2013, but I usually get a few laughs.”

I blinked at him.“You want me to come?”

“Yeah.”His smile was softer now.“I think you could use a laugh.And I think I could use… someone in the audience who doesn’t throw fries when I bomb.”

I hesitated, heart weirdly fluttery again.“Sure.Yeah.Why not?”

“Cool.”He stood up and tossed a few bills on the bar.“I’ll text you the info.Wear something slutty.”

I snorted.“For Bushwick?”

He shot me with a finger gun.“Yes.The sluttier the better.”

And just like that, the panic about the shoot wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t suffocating me anymore either.

With Nico around, everything felt just a little less terrifying.

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