Page 26 of The Woman at the Funeral

I was nodding before I could think better of it.

All I wanted was to be somewhere safe, to get a moment to cool off and calm down.

“Come on, honey,” he said, placing a hand at the small of my back, but not actually touching me. “I’m around the corner.”

He led me toward a towering luxury apartment building, and we rode silently up to the second to last floor.

I would never admit it aloud, but I’d spent more time than was appropriate wondering what the man’s home might look like.

I couldn’t help it.

I was just wired to think of things like aesthetics.

I’d imagined a whole art deco decorated apartment for the man who rang me up at the bookstore a few weeks back.

I had imagined something sleek, modern, maybe having a bit of a little bachelor pad aesthetic.

I was pleasantly surprised to find his place was a masterclass in timeless masculine elegance.

His living room was color-drenched in a dark true gray that he paired with warm brown leather couches and chairs, and lighter-colored herringbone hardwood floors.

The living area melted into the kitchen that featured black cabinets and exposed brick walls.

The whole space was effortlessly classy.

Much like the man himself.

I didn’t love his art. But I had to admit that it suited the color scheme and seemed to be originals, not mass-produced prints, which was nice.

“Come on. Let’s wash those hands,” Nico said, leading me over toward the sink.

He moved behind me, trapping me with his big body as he reached around me to get the water warm, then pulled my hands under the stream.

I flinched at the sting but didn’t pull my hands from his as he carefully applied soap, then rolled pieces of pebbles out of the cuts.

“Here, sit,” he said, pulling out an island seat and pressing me into it. He handed me paper towels for my hands. “I’m just going to get my first aid kit.”

He came back and gently coated my palms in antibiotic cream, then cleaned and treated my chin.

Finished with that, he cleaned up. Then brought me a glass of water and a bottle of a blue sports drink.

“Sorry, this is a blue flavor household.”

“It’s the only good flavor,” I said, reaching for it before remembering my hands.

Nico took it in his hands instead, twisting off the top before passing it back to me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I chugged half the bottle before nodding. “I did the whole loop with no problem, but I just wanted to go a little further.”

“After theloop?” he asked, brows raising.

“Running helps me clear my mind.”

“I like a good run too. But that’s impressive. So, you decided to do the North Woods?”

“In retrospect, probably not my best idea. I know that is a really secluded area.”

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