“Pfft, as if,” Nick said, rolling his eyes, albeit still with a smirk on his face. He did seem slightly annoyed by me bringing it up, but not enough to call me out on it. “I’ve heard the rumors, and not to sound like a victim, but I really think it’s just stereotypes. I asked my dad about it once, and he just said that while my grandfather got in some fights and scraps in his day, it wasn’t anything nefarious like the mafia. Just a bunch of men getting together and settling fights the old-fashioned way.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Even though I did not think that his family was actually connected to the mafia—something that seemed like it sounded good in movies but probably didn’t have a real impact on modern life—there was still the paranoid part of me that received some relief. After experiences with Malcolm, the paranoid part would never go away unless directly spoken to, even for ridiculous shit like this.
“Yeah, trust me, the most Italian thing about my family is the food we eat. So much pasta that it’s a miracle I ever made it to the pros. Anyway, now it’s my turn back. But—instead of asking you what’s on your mind, I need to ask a question about you. Since we’re on the subject of family.”
“Uh-huh…”
Here it comes.
“What happened with the dad of your kid? What’s that like?”
I hesitated, but the change in facial expression and the exasperated sigh that followed probably told Nick enough. I withdrew my hand from him and folded my arms. Just recounting this story was like its own form of PTSD.
“Have you ever dated someone that, at first, it seems joyful and cheerful, like the ride of your life, and then you get into it, and suddenly, you wake up one day and realize what a terrible mistake you’ve made?”
Nick was smart enough not to answer that, but I could tell he’d probably had stories at least in the same category, if not even close to the degree of mine.
The waitress came by with our drinks, and taking the sign as a cue, I took an enormous gulp. Even though it would take another twenty minutes for the effects to kick in, the placebo effect was more than enough.
“I met a guy in college who was, at first, charming and funny,” I said. “Or what I thought was charming and funny. You know, when you’re that young and you just fall for the opposite sex way too easily? That was me. Well, this guy won me over, and we dated for about…half a year, but that’s probably stretching it.”
I wasn’t being fully honest. It was closer to a year. It just embarrassed me so much to know I had kept him a part of my life for as long as I had.
“As young adults are bound to do, we got careless with some actions, and I got pregnant right before I graduated college.”
“Oof.”
“Yeah, oof, indeed. I thought about getting an abortion, but it just felt like…I couldn’t do it. That was going to be my kid. So, anyway, kid is born. And suddenly, Dad starts deciding not to take any responsibility for any of this.”
Left unsaid was that he had always been flighty and an asshole, even hitting me for the first time before I got pregnant, but again, there were some elements of the story I just could not bring myself to admit even to myself, let alone to Nick.
“Eventually, we got into some big fights. Ugly fights. I just couldn’t take it. I knew I wasn’t going to marry him, but I’d hoped that he could at least play a part in raising Ryan.”
It wasn’t like I was on the verge of tears or anything even close to it, but I still needed a moment to collect myself.
“But it became apparent quite quickly that wasn’t going to be the case. So, I got a restraining order against him. Moved here. And last I heard, he was in jail.”
Again, another lie. Again, lying to yourself.
“And that’s that,” I said. “Have I scared you away now?”
Nick gave a good-natured, gentle laugh, reaching over and taking my hand and resting it between us. So, apparently, the answer was somehow no, I had not scared him away.
“We’ve all got things in our past that we’re not proud of, but I don’t care about the type of girl you were when you were in college. I care about the type of person that you are now. And the type of person that you are is sexy, strong, and stunning. If your ex, for whatever reason, somehow came back into the picture, then we could figure out how to deal with him. But for right now, Izzy? Let’s just focus on us.”
“On us,” I said as I took another massive gulp of my margarita. “I like the sound of that.”
Nick must have, too, because he shifted his body closer to me and was now fully pressed up on me.
“You do, huh?” he said.
He was tantalizingly close. I could smell his cologne. I could practically taste it. If he moved forward another inch, I’d be able to muzzle my face against his stubble.
“What else would you like?”
Oh, God. Oh, fuck, he had me turned on so hard.
“Do you want me to tell you,” I said, my eyes narrowing on him. “Or do you want me to show you?”
Nick’s hand squeezed my thigh. I thought I was going to jump him right there. He leaned in.
And this time, I did not give him my cheek.
His lips pressed onto mine. Oh, he tasted so sexy. My hands went onto his chest and pulled him closer.
I
