Page 4 of Late Night Caller

“Get some sleep. I’ll check on you later.” He doesn’t tell me if he’ll make it here tonight, and I try not to get my hopes up that he will.

“Good night, Nico, see you soon.” I wait until the line goes dead before it’s time for me to get ready for bed, secretly hoping I’ll wake up with Nico’s body pressed against mine once again.

SEVEN

Nico

I hadthe best intents and purposes of leaving the restaurant office and swinging by my place to grab some clothes so I could cut out time in the morning from having to travel back before starting my day. Of course, shit wouldn’t go as planned. It doesn’t seem like much does in my work life or personal life, and I’m getting fucking tired of it.

Enzo came in shortly after I hung up with Journey, still attempting to get my apprehension and concern under control thinking the worst when she didn’t answer. It took a lot longer to get ahold of her than ever before. It almost had me call Wylder to tell him to get to her place right away seeing as he was closer to her than me. When she finally called me back, I took the first deep breath since I walked in last night. That leads me to now, sitting in Wylde’s office waiting for him to make his grand appearance. A lot of things have changed since Celeste came into his life, and for the better. The workaholic has slowed down, handed more work off to his employees. Seems to me he’s enjoying his morning, too, judging by the fact it’s eleven o’clock in the morning and our meeting time was set for ten thirty.

“I’d say I’m sorry that I’m late, but we both know that wouldn’t be the truth.” Wylde walks in through the door that’s off his office, an apartment he had built during the renovations of his hotel. The Donotello Famiglia may have helped him financially, but that’s all we’ve done. Wylder, a man who’s been my best friend for years, has done the rest.

“I’m assuming Celeste will be coming out next. Should I leave the room?” I ask, not knowing what state Wylde has left her in while also not wanting to embarrass her.

“She will, and no, you don’t have to do that. Celeste was there when you made the phone call at seven o’clock this morning asking for a meeting. Clearly, you weren’t with my sister, or she’d have clocked you with something heavy being woken up that early.” Wylder was apprehensive when Journey came barreling into his office one day while I was here, stating that she didn’t give a fuck what he had to say about the two of us being together, he’d have to deal with it. What Journey missed out on was that I had already told him that she and I were seeing each other, while I knew things were hostile within the famiglia that we’d have to keep it quiet for the time being. Wylder’s jaw was clenched. I let him sit and stew about what I had just laid out on the line. I didn’t say a word. It was technically a formality—his parents, my parents, they already knew. He was my last stop. Sure, it could have broken our friendship, and he knew me well enough to know business is business, friendship is friendship, that the two of them would stay separated. Wylder was just cooling off when Journey flew through the door, Aphrodite in the modern day, auburn locks flying behind her while she strutted her hot-as-shit self into the office, the dress wrapped around her body doing nothing to conceal the curves I’d had my hands on. I had to laugh. When Journey loves, she loves with her whole heart, almost too much, to the point that she’s had a few friends betray their relationship when they used her as a steppingstone. By the time Journey told her brother how things were going to go, using the words, “Just because you’re older than me does not mean you get to dictate who I see and who I want to be with. I’m not the one who worked their life away. If you can’t see how amazing Nico is, then you’re as blind as a bat.” Her chest was heaving, doing things to her tits that I couldn’t begin to think about with her brother in the same room. It was the fire in her eyes, the tone in her voice, that told me she was in love with me even though the relationship between the two of us is now only a few months in. “Do you even sleep anymore?” Wylder finishes off his sentence.

“Lately, not much. A couple of hours here or there. That’s part of the reason I’m here. Shit is getting worse. You know I can’t go into much detail, but what I have to tell you is probably going to piss you off because it did me when Enzo brought it up. Enough that he’s now sporting a broken nose.” Not my finest moment as a boss. Enzo knows that Journey is my weakest link besides my sister and mother. It’s probably why he suggested it. That doesn’t mean I have to like it or that I’ll agree with it, not until I talk it out with Wylde. I’ll still only do it if Journey is on board.

“Fuck, you hit Enzo? This shit has to be bad.” He’s not wrong. It took me all night to blow off steam, and even then it didn’t defuse the situation, no matter how many weights I lifted or how much running I did on the treadmill in my private in-home gym. I’d calm down, stop thinking about it, and then I’d replay Enzo’s idea in my head, pissing me off all over again.

“You have no fucking idea.” The thought of losing days and nights with Journey put me in a tailspin. There’s a reason I’ve kept her under lock and key, not allowing anyone to see us together in public. It’s not because I’m this massive dick, though I’m sure she doesn’t agree with that statement. The truth of the matter is, she’s my ultimate downfall. Adversaries could take me down within a minute if they only threatened to hurt her. I’d gladly sink to my knees, drop the weapons I carry with me at any given time if it meant no harm would come to her.

“No time like the present,” Wylder responds. Swear to God, if I’m on the receiving end of Journey’s brothers’ fist, shit is going to get nasty.

“Hey, Nico.” Celeste walks in at that moment, not looking flustered at all, unlike Wylde, who wasn’t trying to hide the prideful walk earlier.

“Hello,” I respond. I stand up just as she heads for Wylde. They do their usual goodbye, taking a few minutes, and I don’t want to disturb them or watch as they do so. I may have some kink fetishes, but seeing those two together is not one of them. Besides, something tells me I could use a low ball of bourbon to get through the conversation we’re about to have.

EIGHT

Journey

I woke up cold.That should have been my first clue in the knowledge that as much as I’d hoped for Nico to come over last night, he didn’t. It was selfish to ask, which is why I didn’t. He works days and nights along with every hour in between. If he’s not careful, he’ll work himself into an early grave. That thought makes my chest tighten, my teeth grit, and now I’m the one who is worried as much as Nico probably is.

I’ve got too much on my plate today. The first thing is definitely lugging all the bags of clothes down to my car. Knowing my luck, it won’t all fit, and I’ll be taking two trips. I roll out of bed and check my phone that I kept on my nightstand all night long with the sound on, my least favorite thing to do, but I made a promise, and there’s one thing I won’t ever be accused of: breaking one. There’re no alerts, no texts, or missed calls. I’ve been known to sleep through a phone call on the rare occasion, and after last night’s heavy wine drinking, I slept like a log. I’m talking my eyes were hard to open, bleary when doing so, drool dried on my face, and the oversized sweatshirt and pajama bottoms I’m wearing are definitely haphazard in appearance when I take a look at myself after walking into the bathroom.

“Jesus, Journey. Next time, know your limit,” I say to the mirror once I get there, squinting my eyes at the bright light in the room. My hair is in a messy bun, except most of it is out and off to the side in a similar fashion to the eighties, and my normally cute curtain bangs, yep, those are sticking straight up. That resembles a nineties movie, the one where she thinks its gel but it’s anything but. Ben Stiller and Cameron Diaz rocked that movie, even if I was too young to be watching it. Thank you, older brother. Mom had a field day. Dad just laughed and said it’s better than watching it with some other idiot or a boy.

I go through my morning routine, washing my face, brushing my teeth, starting the shower, tempted to kick up the air conditioning to a higher degree, seeing as how I need to add washing my hair to the list as well. That thought is interrupted when my phone starts going off in the other room. I mentally pull up my calendar worrying that I had a brand meeting or maybe one with my manager, but nothing is ringing any bells. Apparently, that means there’s a need for speed. I propel my body like I’m running a marathon, except I’m not running on all cylinders. There’s a little thing called coffee that is the nectar of the gods in all aspects, a necessity for me in all areas of life when it comes to mornings. It doesn’t matter if I only have a few sips or the aroma permeates the air. Literally, that’s all it takes. So, while I’m haphazard on my quick jaunt from my bathroom to my bed, I land unladylike, belly first, reaching for my phone, hitting the green button to answer the call when I realize it’s Nico.

“Hello,” I answer, out of breath from the escapade I went through to get to the phone before it stopped ringing. Excitement is streaming through my body, where the past few months it’s been sporadic. I understood the reasoning behind it. That didn’t mean I liked to be lumped into a category where Nico would be a late night caller, whether it be in the form of hearing his voice on the other end of the line, waking up to my cell alerting me of a text, or my absolute favorite is when he uses his key and slides in bed with me.

“La vita mia,” Nico replies, voice deep, throaty, and darkly delicious. A thrill works its way through my nervous system.

“Nico,” I respond, relaxing further into the messy sheets beneath me, moving until I’m snuggling back beneath the covers to ward off the coldness that somehow seeps through to my bones. The way his voice says those three words, they’re enough to make me feel like a young schoolgirl swooning over her first crush. You know, when the guy gives you that look where you’re pointing at yourself, looking over the shoulder to make sure said guy isn’t looking at someone behind you.

“Fuck, Journey, you’re in bed right now, aren’t you?” He sounds like I’m naked in bed with my fingers between my legs with the baritone of his voice. Obviously, that’s not the case, but who am I to let him think otherwise? Besides, it’s not every day I get a good morning call, so I’m going to milk this for all I’m worth.

“I am, and where are you? Sitting in your office in suit pants, dress shirt opened at the collar, sleeves rolled up to your forearms?” I ask, visualizing it more than I’d care to admit. That look of Nico’s is my absolute favorite.

“I wish. I’m on my way to the next meeting before I can hopefully grab a few hours of sleep. You have this week off, correct?” I can feel the crinkles in my forehead crease, wondering why he needs sleep when it’s only just now morning, unless Nico worked all night once again.

“That’s the plan. I’m going to see if maybe Mom or Dad wouldn’t mind helping me out by dropping off the twenty bags of clothes at the women’s center. There’s no way they’ll all fit in my car, not unless I want to take four or five trips,” I chatter aimlessly when I’m sure Nico is calling for a reason.

“I’ll have Enzo line up a man to haul it down to my SUV tonight when I pick you up.” I roll to my back. My day is looking brighter by the minute.

“Okay, I don’t have a problem with that, but you’re being awful vague, Nico. Is there something you aren’t telling me? Like, wasn’t the whole you being who you are, we’re supposed to not be out in the open? Your SUV parked in front of my apartment in the middle of the night and leaving at random hours won’t send alarm bells off to others, but this might.”

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