Afterburn

I’d interrupted him when he had someone staying over. “Nico, hi. Sorry. I’ll call back tomorrow.”
    “Gianna.” He exhaled roughly and I heard rustling. “What’s up?”
    “Nothing. We’ll chat tomorrow. Bye.”
    “Don’t hang up on me!” he snapped. “You wanted me, you got me. Spill it.”
    I hung up, figuring the sooner I let him go, the sooner he’d get back to whatever he’d been doing.
    A half second later, the phone started ringing. I answered quickly, hoping it didn’t wake up the rest of the house. “Nico, come on. It’s not a big deal. I’m sorry I bugged you so late.”
    “Gianna, if you don’t start talking, I’m heading up there to kick your ass. Is this about Jackson?”
    I sighed. I should have known he would’ve heard the news from someone. “I’ve got a free weekend. I thought maybe I could come visit. Give you a hard time. Harass you a little. Or a lot.”
    “Now?”
    Actually, I’d been thinking about it, but... “No, tomorrow.”
    “Bullshit. You don’t call after two in the morning to say you want to stop by tomorrow.”
    “You’re busy.”
    “By the time you get here, I won’t be.” His voice softened. “You got a safe ride down?”
    “Nico—”
    “I’ll call a service, have a car pick you up.”
    I closed my eyes, grateful for him and more certain than ever that hanging with him would do me a world of good. It’d been a few weeks since I’d seen him. Too long. “I need to shower and change.”
    “Thirty minutes. I’ll see you when you get here.” He hung up.
    Setting the handset back into its cradle, I hurried to get ready.
    * * *
    I T WAS CREEPING past four in the morning when I arrived at Nico’s apartment complex. He’d called a few minutes before to check where I was and was standing on the sidewalk waiting for me when I pulled up. Dressed in sweats with a shadow of stubble on his jaw, he looked a bit dangerous in that bad-boy way so many women gravitated toward.
    God knew Jax’s alpha-male qualities could put me into heat.
    “Hey,” he said, taking my duffel bag from the driver and handing over cash. He slung his arm around my shoulder and led me toward his place. “It’s good to see you.”
    “No, it’s not.” I bumped my hip into his and made us both stumble. “Sorry to crash your night.”
    “I got mine.” He grinned. “She got hers, too, so it’s all good.”
    “Gross. TMI.” He was such a player. Always had been. “Is she anyone special?”
    “Not in a serious way. Got no time for a relationship now. My hands are full with Rossi’s Two.”
    He released me to unlock the lobby door, then led me through to the interior courtyard. I’d been to his apartment complex before to help him move in, but it felt different at night. Too quiet and unfamiliar. I wondered if he got lonely without the rest of us. It made me sad to think of it.
    “I wish you had someone to take care of you,” I said.
    “You first,” he retorted, deftly bringing it back to me. He was good at that.
    We climbed exterior steps to his apartment. Once inside, I saw that he hadn’t done much more to it since he’d moved in. It was a typical bachelor pad—sparse on decoration and laid out for comfort rather than aesthetics.
    A large flat-screen TV dominated the living room, which had a black leather couch and love seat, coffee table and one end table with an open soda can on it. Light spilled into the otherwise darkened room from the open-plan kitchen and ajar bedroom door, trying valiantly to compensate for the lack of table and floor lamps.
    “So, Jax is back,” he said, watching me as I dropped onto the couch. “Vincent owes me a hundred bucks.”
    “Are you kidding?” I would’ve thrown a sofa pillow at him if he’d had any. “You bet on Jax?”
    “Bet on you.” He sat on the love seat, setting my duffel on the floor at his feet. “He was gonzo over you, which meant he was either going to put a ring on you or run scared. I figured he’d run, then come back around once the fear wore off. He’s a guy, but he’s a smart one. Question is, is he too late? I’m guessing no or you wouldn’t be here.”
    “Maybe I just wanted to see you,” I argued. “God knows why.”
    “Maybe,” he said in a tone that told me he’d believe it when hell froze over and pigs flew. “You still love him?”
    My head fell back against the sofa, and I closed my tired eyes. “Yeah. Damn it.”
    “And him? Where’s he coming from?”
    “He’s