Page 94 of Elite Player
I should’ve known. One glass of wine always does her in. My little lightweight.
With a smile, I settle back down on the bed. “Night, Jojo. Love you.”
CHAPTER 26
JO
The Iron leftfor Edmonton yesterday, and I went home to work on my portfolio. While Nico and I never talked about it, I’ve all but moved in to his apartment. Whenever he’s home, I sleep at his place, and every time I spend the night, I end up leaving more of my belongings there. It started with a toothbrush, then face wash, and then Nico cleared out drawers and space in his closet for me. Half of his Christmas gift to me was a shopping spree at Ulta. The other half was paying for a website upgrade. He hired a developer to design a custom site that “matched the beauty of my work.”
He certainly knows the way to my heart.
And it’s impossible to say that this relationship is fake anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. If ever.
What Nico said is true—he is loyal, and when he’s home, he’shome. He makes me feel like I’m the only one in the room when we’re out, and when we’re alone, I don’t ever feel like he’s thinking about someone else or wants to be anywhere else.
Yet I haven’t been able to gather the courage to bring it up. To outright ask him what he thinks about what we are. If this is real or still some kind of show for the public.
Because as much as I know Nico’s heart, it is impossible tofully silence the voices in my head. I can’t forget about my life before I became Nico Tremblay’s fake fiancée.
As much as I am inexperienced in almost all things romantic relationships, so is Nico. This is his first go-round for a serious committed relationship, and I think—in my limited knowledge—that we’re both doing all right. We take care of each other, support each other, and have fun.
If only I could be brave enough to ask,Is this really what we’re doing?
Instead of doing that, I hit send on the series of photos I added to a private online album only for Nico and me. After our impromptu photo shoot in bed two nights ago, I spent a few hours looking through them the next day. They weren’t technically well done, but they were real.
They were visceral.
Human.
Hot.
We captured blurred hands and open mouths.
Flushed skin and beads of sweat.
His blue eyes darkened with desire, his face half hidden between my legs. My nipple caught between his fingers. The length of his erection as he stood in front of me, proud and ready. His hunger fully exposed. To say nothing of my swollen lips and undiluted thirst for him. My hands reaching for him, my eyes soft with want.
They were gorgeous, if a little pornographic. And I knew Nico would love them.
But I didn’t expect my phone to ring only two minutes later. Still staring at the photos on my computer screen, I laugh at what I imagine will be his response. “Shouldn’t you be in a team meeting or something?”
“Josephine.”
My smile drops at my mother’s voice. “Mom?”
“Yes, Josephine. Who else would it be?”
“I, uh…thought it was?—”
“You need to come home.”
I close my laptop and stand from my kitchen table. “I’m not coming home. I’m?—”
“Granny passed away.”
My breath catches. “She died?”
“Went to sleep last night and didn’t wake up this morning.”
