Nero - Page 168

“I want to take Kael to see water,” he says. “A lake. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and now that I know he’s never seen a pool or the sea, I think it would be a good opportunity. I saw an ad for a vacation house in a nearby town—right on a lake. It’s private property, with restricted lake access.”

My mind instantly jumps back years, to another private place— the secluded beach Nero took me to on our first date.

“This is the next place I want to take him, Little Fae,” he adds, as if reading my thoughts. He takes my hands again and pulls me back between his legs.

Nero leaves another long kiss on my cheek—closer to the corner of my mouth than before.

Should I be counting how many centimeters separate that exact spot from my lips? Should I be wondering how many kisses are left before he reaches them?

No. I shouldn’t.

“When do you want to take him?” I ask, clearing my throat as Nero pulls away.

“For a weekend. And I don’t just want to take him—I’d like you to come with us. I understand you work, but you and Kaelneed to get out of the house. Do you think you could get some time off?”

I take a moment to answer, even though I know what I want. My first instinct is to push back—but in the end, I decide nothing terrible is going to happen.

“I’ll try.”

CHAPTER 70

NERO ZANTHOS

“So the witch thre—”

“All right, I’m hanging up on you now,” I say, picking up the phone that was resting on a small side table.

“Hey, but we’re not done telling the story yet!” Apollo protests on the video call.

“Yeah, but Kael is. He’s been out cold for almost an hour.” I turn the camera toward my son, fast asleep in bed.

“He’s jealous because he got replaced as the official bedtime storyteller,” Drako mocks, and I narrow my eyes.

Three days ago, when my son asked if we could do a video call so his uncles could tell him a story, I understood. After all, after months of being fully integrated into Kael’s routine, my brothers had to return to Greece and resume their own lives. They said their mission here was complete.

It’s natural that my son would miss them and look for ways to keep them present, to show that this is what he wants. But I won’t deny that I felt jealous, yes, about losing my role as bedtime storyteller. Especially when Kael’s request was repeated yesterday and today.

“There—look at his sulky face, Drako!” Apollo is literally pointing at me, and I’m done. I hang up on them mid-sentence. I huff.

I move closer to the bed and crouch beside it. Kael went wild with all the space. Used to moving only between the two duplexes he knew as home—first his mother’s, then mine—his introduction to the lake house was a succession of “Oh’s,” “Ah’s,” and “Wow’s.”

After a full day running, jumping, and learning how to float in the lake, my son asked if we could come back here again, with his grandma and his uncles. The second part of his guest list made me roll my eyes, but I told him we’d come back many times.

Nina looked at me suspiciously and, at the first opportunity, asked how exactly I could guarantee that. The owner could decide to stop renting the house, for example.

I shrugged and said it wouldn’t be a problem. Watching disbelief take over her face was delightful. “You bought the house, didn’t you?” she accused when she realized it. “He liked it,” I defended myself, but that didn’t seem like a good enough justification for my son’s mother, who left me alone in the kitchen and walked away muttering complaints.

I never thought feeling weak would lead me to the moment when I feel strongest in my entire life. The panic attack that sentme to the hospital weeks ago put everything into perspective. And after the conversation that changed everything between Nina and me, for the first time in a long while,perspectivewasn’t something that scared me.

I kiss the top of Kael’s head and breathe in his baby scent. I admire him for several minutes, in silence. He’s my greatest gift. I’ll always mourn what I lost. But what I gained? What I keep gaining? It feels like there’s no room left inside me for this much happiness. It just keeps spilling over. That said, thereisroom for one very specific piece.

I give my son one last kiss and leave his room. I close the door, and when I turn around, I freeze at the sight of the wonderful woman stepping out of the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

Nina looks like she stepped straight out of one of the many erotic dreams I’ve been having about her. She was wearing nothing but a robe—and by nothing, I meannothing at all. I can see the outline of her nipples beneath the thin fabric, and every minimal movement, the small slit at the front gives me a glimpse of the inside of her thighs.

She’s holding a small toiletry bag and has a towel wrapped around her head. And if that didn’t tell me she just came out of the shower, her flushed skin would. Beautiful. Spectacularly beautiful. She finally turns her head, realizing my presence, and that forces me to stop devouring her with my eyes.

I walk toward her, and Nina looks down at herself, opening and closing her mouth several times.