Nero - Page 144

“No fucking clue. Take out an ad or something.”

“Oh my god, Nero. You’re hopeless.”

“Love you too.” He says it so easily. “I’ve gotta go. But have one of the guys go get you a coffee or something.”

“Alright.” I flex my fingers around the phone, wishing it was his hand I was holding. “I love you.”

Hanging up gets harder every day.

It’s ridiculous how sorry I’m feeling for myself. My situation has literally never been better. Not even close.

Even with Nero gone, I talk to him every night. We text all day. I send him photos of Toto and he sends me texts bossing me around, making sure I’m eating, asking what I’m doing. It’s the most attention I’ve ever had. But now that I know what it’s like to share a bed with him, I don’t want to sleep alone. I don’t want simple phone calls.

I want him.

Shoving up from the couch, Toto rouses with my movement, and we both go off to find Robert.

Lucky for us, he walks across the rear patio right as we approach the door.

I swing it open, and Toto trots chasing a falling leaf, before relieving himself in the grass.

When Robert notices me lingering halfway out the door he stops. “Need something?”

A plan forms…

“Uh, yeah, actually.” I feel a little bad for what I’m about to do, but I need a field trip away from this house before I lose my mind. “Nero said it was okay if you took me to get a coffee.”

Robert looks past me, into the kitchen. “Don’t you make your own? All the time?”

“It’s not the same. There’s somethingbetterabout it when someone else makes it. Kinda like when you get free food. Always tastes better than when you have to pay for it.”

Robert doesn’t move. “I’ll just send someone out to get it.”

I shake my head. “I’m going with. I gotta get out for a bit.”

“Nero said you could go?” His doubt is written all over his face.

And he should be doubtful. I know full well that Nero didn’t mean for me to go with. But I also know I’m nearing a mental breakdown if I don’t get a change of scenery.

“We can do a drive thru. I’ll get in the car in the garage and not get out until we’re home again.” It’s the most over-the-top thing I can think of, but Nero’s an over-the-top kind of guy.

“No offense, but I gotta ask him.” The way Robert saysno offensetells me he doesn’t actually care if I’m offended.

While Robert texts Nero, I call Toto back in, and I pretend I’m not crossing my fingers for Robert to word the question in a way that will let me go.

Then I cross everything all over again, because when Nero finds out, he’s gonna be pissed.

* * *

It tooktwenty minutes to get ready to go, and I spent three of those minutes trying to convince Robert to let me bring Toto, but he refused.

Deciding to take the loss with the win, I used the time Robert needed to organize the men to run up to my room and change.

I know I’m not getting out of the vehicle. And I know all the windows are tinted. And I know it’s stupid. But standing here in the garage, wearing tennis shoes, my good pair of jeans, a bra, a plain white tank top, and a black hooded sweatshirt I found in one of Nero’s drawers, I feel ready for public.

I pull the fabric of the hoodie up to my nose. It doesn’t smell like Nero. But it does smell like his laundry detergent, which is better than nothing.

Then, I keep the fabric pressed over my mouth, because I’m suddenly hit with the memory of digging around in the closet the other day, looking for boxers to wear to bed, and instead finding the stash of underwear he’s stolen from me.