by Cara Dee
I pushed off the wall and took a step back. “You know who I am.” With that said, I gave Gideon a last glance before I trailed back toward the street where Anthony had dropped me off.
Then something stopped me.
Claire said Gideon’s name with enough worry in her voice that I had to look back, and when I saw that he was about to lose it, it wasn’t about me anymore whatsoever. I’d made a promise. More than that, I couldn’t look the other way—not even if I wanted to. So I hurried back to him and kidnapped the proverbial remote control.
“Come here. Let’s get you inside.” I handed over the leash to Claire and positioned myself in front of Gideon. “Listen to me.”
He managed to make eye contact, but I could sense it wouldn’t last long. His breaths were coming out quicker and quicker, and his features were contorted in pain.
“This is highly inappropriate,” Claire hissed under her breath.
I ignored her. This was my doing, and I was going to fix it.
“Just follow me, Gideon.” I kept a grip on his arms and started walking backward.
The doorman offered his assistance, and Claire said something to him. I couldn’t make out the words, and it didn’t matter.
“I’m not going anywhere, hon,” I said quietly, hopefully so only he heard it. “You’ve got your pause button, okay? Right now, we’re just gonna get you upstairs.”
He screwed his eyes shut halfway through the lobby, but he didn’t stop following me. Step by step, I got him closer to the elevator until we were inside it. Claire pushed the button for the top floor, and Chester butted his little head against Gideon’s leg.
“I can’t believe this,” Claire said.
I cupped Gideon’s cheek. “We’re almost there.”
“You have no right to be here,” Claire added irritably. “You two were supposed to see each other discreetly.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, but your fit’s gonna have to wait,” I told her. “I’ll leave once he feels better.”
“I can take care of my own fiancé,” she snapped.
Someone give me strength.
Gideon clutched at my arms the second the elevator dinged, announcing our arrival on the top floor, and Claire took the lead. I wasn’t at all bitter and jealous about her having keys to his place. There were only two doors to choose from, and I remembered Gideon mentioning a Mrs. Nelson.
Claire opened the door, and I registered the bare minimum, wanting my focus on Gideon. And maybe there was a side of me that just didn’t wanna see his place now that it was tainted. She had ruined it.
Actually, I had ruined everything.
“Where’s his bedroom?” I asked, shrugging off my jacket and kicking off my shoes. They landed on the floor. Gideon’s jacket was next. He’d told me that the thing he disliked most about the studio apartment was that there was no hallway to hang your coat and put away your shoes. He didn’t like wearing those items indoors, so I assumed he didn’t want to walk farther in those shoes either. I helped him take them off.
Claire looked as if she didn’t want us to go near that particular room, but I hoped she’d realize it would’ve been beyond stupid to think…I didn’t even know, that I’d take him in there now to bend him over for me? Cazzo. But down the hall she gestured. Surrounded by shiny hardwood floors, intricate moldings, art, and rich colors, I ushered Gideon toward an open door and saw a big bed in the middle of the room.
He’d fucked her here, hadn’t he? Of course he had.
I did my best to swallow the jealousy, and I sat Gideon down on the edge of the bed and stepped between his legs.
“Breathe with me, baby,” I murmured.
He nodded jerkily and struggled to suck in a longer, slower breath.
“We’ll push that pause button,” I repeated. “You set the pace. Everything can wait.”
Including me, even if he only wanted to see me later to explain why he was going to marry Claire.
He wrapped his arms around my midsection and pressed his face to my chest.
“I’m so fucking sorry for showing up unannounced.” I pressed my lips to his hair and breathed him in. For all I knew, I wouldn’t get another chance. It almost made me wanna beg him to keep coming to the apartment for whatever little time we had left of our two months, as if we could pretend after this. As if I could stomach his nightly visits for another week, knowing full well that he’d made his decision.
Chester appeared at our feet and head-butted Gideon’s leg, then stood up on his hind legs and clearly wanted to get on someone’s lap.
“Want me to get him for you?” I asked.
Gideon sniffled and shook his head before he released me. He was breathing easier now. In mere minutes, I wouldn’t have a reason to stay anymore. He was getting better.
He picked up Chester and hugged the little dog to him.
It hadn’t occurred to me before that Chester was his emotional support animal. Even if it wasn’t intentional, even if Chester hadn’t been trained as a support dog, that was clearly his role, and he seemed to be doing a great job. He wagged his furry little tail and tried to jump up toward Gideon’s face.
I could take a hint. Time for me to bounce.
“I’m gonna go.” I combed my fingers through Gideon’s hair, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll be there tonight, okay?”
He nodded once and exhaled unsteadily. “And you promise we p-pushed the pause button?”
“I promise.” I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “You tick things off one at a time, and I’ll wait. Don’t rush on anyone’s behalf.”
“Thank you.” He squeezed my hand briefly. “I think I can be there around eight or nine.”
“All right, I’ll wait.”
On the way out, I picked up my jacket and put on my shoes, and I avoided Claire altogether. Then I texted Anthony in the elevator, and by the time I reached the ground floor, he told me he would be outside the entrance in a minute.
Mannaggia, I couldn’t believe myself. Too many emotions were surging within me, and I couldn’t shake the nausea. The only thing I knew for certain was that I’d screwed up royally.
My chest hurt. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think.
Anthony rolled up in his black truck, and I met his cautious expression when I jumped in and slammed the door shut.
“I made a complete fool of myself.”
I wanted to throw up.
He winced and pulled away from the curb. “Tell me what happened.”
“Nicky. You can’t lie here all day.”
“Watch me,” I mumbled around a spoonful of ice cream. Once we’d gotten back to the apartment, I’d showered, changed into sweats and a tee, created the biggest ice cream sundae for myself, then thrown myself onto the bed with my phone. And I wasn’t going nowheres.
Maybe I’d stay here until Gideon’s pillow stopped smelling like him.
Anthony sighed and sat down at my keyboard but turned the chair so he could face me.
“You don’t gotta babysit me,” I said. I kinda wanted to be alone, because I had an itch to go through my pictures. I had three of Gideon and two of him and me, silly and sweet selfies from our walks—okay, one of them was of the dirty variety. He’d taken the photo with my phone when I was blowing him. But all I wanted right now were the silly-sweet pics.
Anthony checked his watch. “Ruby will be here in an hour.”
“And she will be about as entertained as you are now.” I punched the pillows behind me into comfortable perfection, then leaned back with my ice cream and my phone. Legs crisscrossed under the covers, ice cream bowl on my lap. “Listen. I can’t even tell you how thankful I am for you—and Ruby—but I’m gonna host this pity party with or without you. That includes ice cream, playing my game on my phone, and probably inhaling Gideon’s scent on the pillows.”
He smiled ruefully. “You know there’s still a chance, bambino.”
“Please don’t.” I shook my head and started
a new level on my game. “I might need you tomorrow instead. Today I’mma wallow in despair.”
I’d thought it would come out as a half-assed joke, but it fucking hurt.
“I’ll leave you be and call off Ruby—on one condition,” he said. “You come to my place tonight if things don’t go well with Gideon. I can pick you up.”
I nodded, agreeing, because that was already my plan. And if he was bringing his truck, I might as well bring all my shit. There wasn’t a chance in hell I could stay here another night.
“I’ll call you,” I promised.
“Bene.” He rose from his seat and patted my knee. “I’ll be at Pop’s for a while. He needs help fixing the radiator in his bedroom, but I’ll keep my phone close.”
“You can fix radiators, but you can’t make noodles,” I mumbled, swiping a raspberry over a tomato on the screen.
Anthony laughed on his way out.
Gideon, that fucking bastard.
I sniffled and wiped at my cheek, and I couldn’t even be happy about beating a really difficult level in my game, ’cause all I had in my head was something he had put there. The idea of having children.
I couldn’t stop picturing it.
Before—never. Hadn’t entered my mind. Or, I mean, something for “way down the road.” Since there were so many obstacles before it became relevant. I needed a steady job, a home, solid income—and preferably a partner. Now I’d gotten the slightest glimpse of what that life could be like.
Gideon would make a good father.
He and I would make a great team. We had such different qualities, and combined…yeah. We’d nail that shit.
Maybe we’d have a boy and a girl? Or two brothers and a sister?
I sighed heavily and tossed my phone next to me. The grief rolled over me as I pulled the duvet higher, and I got weepy again because I couldn’t sniff the pillow when my nose was stuffy.
The embarrassment from earlier today decided to come back too.
I’d been an idiot. Showing up unannounced was annoying to most people; he didn’t have to be autistic for that. But to him… Christ. The slightest surprise turned into an ambush. And there I’d been, talking about how I’d pay attention to his needs?
I was a joke.
My stomach snarled with hunger, and I ignored it. I’d had three bowls of ice cream. That was enough. I’d racked up an impressive stack of dishes on the nightstand.
Tonight I’d be back in Anthony’s guest room. Later tonight. Technically, it was already night. A glance at the alarm clock told me it was four minutes past seven.
Perhaps I hadn’t matured as much these past two years as I wanted to believe. After quitting with Tina last time, I’d given myself a big ass-kicking for blowing through the money I’d earned while working for her. Granted, it meant I had one sweet fucking collection of instruments now, but that meant fuck-all when I had to crash with my brother.
While I’d saved most of the money from Gideon, I’d shown my immaturity in other ways.
My phone buzzed with a message, and I saw Gideon’s name on the display.
Can I come now instead, please? I’ve calmed down sufficiently, and I need to see you.
I sniffled and typed in a response.
Yeah, sure.
I estimated that would give me approximately fifteen minutes to compose mys—
Two firm knocks on the door interrupted my thought.
Are you kidding me?
No, it could be Ruby. Maybe. For some reason. Plus, Gideon had a key.
I threw off the covers and grabbed as many wadded-up tissues as I could, and I threw them under the sink on my way to the door. My heart slowly but surely crept up in my throat, only for it to get lodged when I saw Gideon through the peephole. He was already here. And he wasn’t dressed for success. He was wearing Yankee sweats and a hoodie.
I opened the door, figuring I was gonna do this without Instagram filters and fake smiles. I couldn’t pretend, and there was no time to try to look like I hadn’t wept like a baby earlier anyway.
He looked about as tired as I felt, and he frowned when his gaze landed on my face.
“I know, I look like shit.” I opened the door wider and let him in.
He shook his head and stopped near the kitchen table. He was scanning the place for changes.
I locked the door again and returned to the bed. “Claire busy picking out a wedding dress?” Ouch, too bitter. Well, there was no taking backsies, but I was keeping my mouth shut now. After pulling up the covers, I pulled up my knees too and hugged them to my chest.
Gideon was still frowning. “I highly doubt that considering I broke off our engagement—and she swiftly terminated our friendship as well.”
I felt my forehead crease with confusion.
He did what?
The words didn’t really compute.
“But you chose her,” I said.
More frowning. At least he left the kitchen and moved closer. “Excuse me? I did no such thing.”
My heart stayed in my throat, for a whole new reason, and it started beating furiously. “You said—I heard you, Gideon. You said you had to proceed with your plan. Your plan to marry her—it was your plan all along.”
He stared at me as if he were trying to solve a difficult math problem, all while I went to war against the hope that threatened to shoot out of me. If there was the slightest chance…
“You’re mistaken.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled up one of his legs so he could face me properly. “I was a nervous wreck all morning because I had invited Claire over to tell her I could no longer go through with the engagement. Then I took a walk with Chester to center myself, and when I came back, I saw you standing there. It threw me. It wasn’t part of my plan.”
I blinked. The words slithered through my brain too slowly, as if a part of me was scared shitless to believe them.
“It became too much, Nicky. With your declaration and Claire due to arrive at any moment, it was more than I could handle.” He swallowed and stared at his lap. “You were also saying all the right things before I’d had the chance to admit the worst things about myself. So, I…I couldn’t stave off the panic. And then she showed up, and I saw the magazines she was carrying.” He blew out a breath and scrubbed his hands over his face. “She’d misunderstood me too. She’d thought I’d ended my ‘experiment’ with you early—and that I was ready to plan our wedding.”
That was why he had asked for the pause button…
He hadn’t been able to handle everything at once, so he’d told me he needed to stick to the plan—which was, end things with Claire, and then he and I could talk.
My eyes filled with unshed tears quicker than I could’ve anticipated, and I pressed my lips together to keep from making any weird sounds.
“I don’t understand your emotions now,” he stated.
“Relief.” I blinked, and a couple tears fell down. “Plain relief.”
I had a shot. It was official. I’d wear him down if I had to.
“Oh.” He furrowed his brow. “I’m not there yet. I fear what I’m about to tell you will make you change your mind.”
Unless he was hiding another fiancée somewhere, I wasn’t too worried.
“I’m listening.” I wiped at my cheeks and took a steadying breath. “Just…scoot closer to me, okay?”
He scooted a little closer, though not enough for us to be able to touch each other, so I extended my hand, and he scooted a bit more. It was an improvement at least—and a much-needed comfort since he looked anything but at ease. In fact, his expression was pinched with worry and weariness.
I covered his hand with mine and gave it a squeeze. “Whatever it is you gotta tell me, it can’t be that bad.”
“You don’t know that,” he responded quietly. “We can start with today. I’m not good at communicating properly at all times.”
“Who is?”
He huffed a breath. “Fine. I’m afraid I will bore you. I don’t mi
nd going to bars every now and then, but I can’t stay very long, and I don’t enjoy nightclubs at all. I’m also picky about restaurants, I’m not flexible, sometimes I might become clingy and needy—especially where you’re concerned—and I’m positively terrified that your family won’t accept me, and I know how much you love them.” He hauled in a breath and trucked on. “Occasionally, I will avoid an issue and hope it goes away by itself. Most recently, it’s been the matter of us not having sex.”
This, I had to hear.
“When I have a lot on my mind…” he said, faltering, and he avoided eye contact more than before. Now he was almost peering toward the kitchen. It was clear he struggled with this. He was embarrassed. “I go through asexual periods sometimes.”
Oh.
“I can’t explain it very well.” He wrung his hands awkwardly in his lap. “I can still feel incredibly affectionate toward you and want to please you, but I’m starting to believe it’s because of my emotional attachment. It isn’t sex. Not in the past few days anyway. That urge…disappears. Thankfully not for long, usually—perhaps a couple weeks or so—but it happens. I’m sorry.”
Not a single thing he’d said raised any worries until those last two words. I wouldn’t have him apologizing for shit.
Summoning my balls, I crawled over to him and climbed onto his lap.
“Hey.” I kissed his forehead and decided not to force eye contact. He’d get there when he was ready, just like he had the first time we’d been in this position and I’d taken off my blindfold. “Don’t apologize for who you are, papito.”
“It’s still a nuisance.”
“Not really. It is understandable, though.” I gathered his hands in mine and kissed his knuckles. “These past two months have turned both our worlds upside down. It’d be weird if that sort of exhaustion didn’t manifest itself somehow.”
He glanced down at our joined hands, and I decided to rewind the tapes and tackle the rest of what he’d said.
“My family will adore you and show you in their special way,” I murmured. “I’ll be your translator, and I’ll give you all the heads-ups you might need. For instance, my nonna will try to force-feed you, because she thinks everyone under three hundred pounds is skinny, and you won’t be able to say no to her.”
