Page 35 of Nico
"What are you doing here?"
"It's cold." He started to slide past her, but she planted her feet.
With a sigh, he simply clamped his hands on her shoulders and moved her aside.
"Close the door darling, you're letting in the cold air."
She seethed when he strolled his way into the kitchen.
Slamming the door shut, she marched after him, hissing out a breath when he made himself at home around the counter.
"Are you comfortable?"
He grinned at the fulminating look she was giving him.
"Why don't you come and sit on my lap? Make us both comfortable?"
"What are you doing here, Nico?"
Sighing at the rigid expression on her face, he dropped all pretenses of levity. "It's clearly obvious."
"Not to me." Dragging off the scarf she had used to keep the hair off her face, she tossed it on the counter and dragged restless fingers through the strands, sending them tumbling around her shoulders.
It always amazed him that even in her faded tights and old sweater, without a stitch of makeup on, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
"I couldn't stay away." His quiet admission had her breath catching.
Turning away from him, she went to the fridge and took out two cans of Coke. Sliding him one, she sat across from him and popped the tab.
"I thought you'd given up the bad habit."
She lifted the can to her lips and took a swig. "Too late." She sighed as she continued to stare at him. "It's not going to work."
He knew she wasn't talking about her soda habit. "Why not?"
"You have a daughter."
His eyes darkened. "And you are not open to having a relationship with a single parent."
Her eyes flashed. "You know damn well that's not the case."
"Then what is?"
"You were the one who said you'd have to concentrate on your little girl. You left."
"And I'm back." He took a swallow of the ice-cold liquid. "Which proves that I need you." His eyes bore into hers; those bottle green eyes that felt as if they were seeing into her soul.
She didn't look away, but the tension in her posture was unmistakable. Silence stretched between them, filled only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and their unspoken memories. Nico set his can down, fingers tapping restlessly on the countertop, searching for words that might bridge the chasm he'd created.
"I know I left," he said quietly, voice rough with regret. "But I never stopped thinking about you. About us."
Her eyes softened, just for a moment, before she blinked away the emotion. "You can't just walk back in and expect things to be the same."
He nodded, understanding. "I don't. But I'm here because I want a second chance. If you'll let me."
She hesitated, the weight of old wounds and new hopes flickering across her face. "It's not that simple," she murmured, but for the first time, Nico saw possibility in her gaze, a quiet invitation to try again.
Pushing the can away, he rose, and she tensed. If he touched her, she would have no resistance.
