Too Sweet (Hayes Brothers #3)(28)

“The harder I fought, the worse it got. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t see a way out because I panicked. For some reason, your brothers kept an eye on me that night. And it was only thanks to them that Asher didn’t get what he wanted. When Conor pulled him off me, he already had his hands under my skirt.”

I pinch my lips, tasting the salty tears silently escaping my eyes. I hate reliving that night. I hate the scar Asher left on my thigh when he caught his signet ring in my flesh, ripping it open. I still feel his hands on me sometimes, and wake up drenched in sweat at all hours of the night. I’m not ashamed of what happened, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy talking about it.

“So, yes,” I admit, wiping my face. “I didn’t push Justin away immediately. I took a moment to assess our position and check where I could hit if saying no wouldn’t work.” The car halts outside my house, the driver as silent as Nico. “It’s not what you’d expect me to do, but I won’t apologize for keeping myself safe the only way I know how. It’s been a year, and so far, no one’s trapped me the way Asher did.” I unzip my bag, pulling my wallet out, but Nico covers my trembling hand with his.

“Look at me,” he rasps, his guilt swirling in the air like fine dust. “Please, baby... look. At. Me.”

I wipe my eyes once more, suppressing the agonizing need to let the tears run free. Faint heart never won the battle, and this is what it feels like. A battle to see who’ll come out on top. I might be weaker than a frail stem holding the weight of a sunflower blossom, but I am holding it. I won’t let Nico reduce me to a pathetic, whimpering mess.

“You’re sorry, aren’t you? Sorry about what you said, how you acted, and sorry that Asher almost raped me.” I bite the inside of my cheek, meeting his haunted stare. “That’s nice, but I don’t need your sorry. I don’t need your pity. It’s done. I could let it define me or use it to toughen up.” I take a fifty out of my wallet, passing it to the driver. “Can you wait a moment, please? I’ll be right back.”

He nods, glancing in the rearview mirror, his face a picture of embarrassment. “Sure thing.”

I exit the car, cross a narrow pathway, unlock the door, and click-clack down the hallway into my bedroom. The gift I chose for Nico’s birthday waits on my nightstand. He doesn’t deserve it after how he acted, but getting it took time, effort, and many favors. Despite how big of a jerk he’s been, I want him to have it.

When the triplets invited me to his party, I pulled all the strings to get Nico Aerosmith’s first LP in mint condition, signed by the band. You can get one online for a few hundred dollars, and I’m sure he already has one in his collection but working in the industry comes with its perks.

The LP on my nightstand, wrapped in pink paper, came straight from the band with a personalized dedication.

Moments later, I’m back standing by the car, holding the door open. Nico’s eyes meet mine, his face full of contradictions. He’s angry, worried, and... I’m not sure what I see there, but it wraps itself around me like a thick, fluffy blanket.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make your party last night.” I hold the gift out for him. “Happy birthday.”

“You got me a gift?”

“It would be rude to turn up empty-handed.” I wipe the last tears from my eyelashes, waiting for him to take it. “Almost as rude as you not accepting it.”

He grabs it immediately, frowning like he doesn’t know what to say. “Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Nico.”

The cab stays on the driveway as I kick my heels off in the hallway and sit in front of the piano, playing every song that soothes me until late into the night.

TEN
Nico

I HACK THE BACK OF THE PASSENGER SEAT with my fist when Mia disappears inside the house. Her tear-stained face lingers at the forefront of my mind. I’m so uncomfortable in my own fucking head I wish I could rip it off.

Knowing that my twisted personality: the jumping-to-conclusions way too fast, and the hot-headed temper are why she’s upset drives me insane.

I never want to see that girl cry again. I never want to see her chin quiver and those big eyes fill with tears.

“Are you gonna go after her or...?” the driver asks.

The headrest on the passenger seat has split in two under my fist, and the concerned, frightened look on the guy peeking in the rearview mirror tells me he’d be more than thrilled if I got the hell out of his car. He can’t be older than me, but he’s half my size. I doubt he’ll try his luck at forcing me out.

I pull a wad of cash from my wallet to cover the fare and damages. “Nineteen-oh-six Port Ramsey Way.”

“That’s too much, man.” He taps the meter, where the fare isn’t even twenty bucks yet. “Besides, she already paid.”

“Then you’re getting paid twice. The rest is for damages. I don’t have the energy to argue. Take it and get me home, alright?”

“Yeah, alright,” he hums, turning the radio up loud enough that I make out “Scrubs” by TLC but not loud enough to stop him talking. “You want to break a window or two? Slash a tire? You know... get your money’s worth and unwind.”

I leave it without comment, ripping the pink wrapping paper off the gift. My head hits the back of the seat when I pull out the LP Mia got me. I’ve got this album at home, but I sure don’t have it signed by the band with Dream on, Nico written across the front.