Page 11 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

And what, exactly, does that mean? I know I didn’t imagine the feeling of his arms around me this morning, the way his body was pressed against mine. I was mostly asleep, but I can still feel the ghost of all those muscles encircling me, can still feel the way his breath stirred against my neck.

‘Painkillers, too,’ Nico follows up, holding them out and breaking into my reverie. His face gives nothing away.

‘Thanks.’ I take the pills from him and knock them down with the bright yellow drink. Instantly, my mouth is on fire, my eyes sting, and I come perilously close to throwing up on Nico’s feet. Then, against all odds, my body does some sort of abrupt U-turn, the clouds in my head part, and I feel significantly better.

‘Huh,’ I murmur, looking down into the glass in my hand.

‘I know, right?’ Nico turns and pulls out a chair for me at the dining table. ‘Now sit down and eat some carbohydrates.’

I pick up a donut and nibble cautiously. It tastes great, and I take a bigger bite, suddenly starving. ‘I don’t think I’ve been this hungover…’ I cast around for a comparison, ‘ever.’

Nico frowns, but turns his attention to pouring me a cup of coffee. ‘I wish I could say the same.’ He keeps the words light. ‘But I’ll admit it’s been a long time. There was this one trip to Bali… I still can’t even stand a sniff of arak.’ He shudders.

I take a long, slow sip of coffee and the caffeine hits my bloodstream like a defibrillator. ‘You should have known better than to drink something called an Arak Attack.’

‘I forget that you know all my secrets,’ he muses, then he pulls out a seat across from me and stretches his legs out. ‘So, about last night…’

‘Right,’ I wince, but I’m determined to be as unfazed as he is. ‘Well, I remember the poker game.’

‘Yeah.’ Nico runs a hand across his stubbled jaw. ‘Frankie wasn’t kidding about you being a hustler.’

‘Being good at something doesn’t make me a hustler.’

He scoffs. ‘I still don’t know how you did it… You’re like a human lie detector.’

I only smile enigmatically into my coffee. There’s no need for him to know that I’ve spent over twenty years studying his face like a besotted weirdo.

‘I think things started to go downhill when Frankie pulled out the good whisky,’ I murmur, changing the subject.

It’s Nico’s turn to look a bit green around the edges. ‘Right, the whisky. And the cigars.’

‘Which were disgusting by the way,’ I put in.

‘No one made you try one.’

‘But everyone else was smoking them,’ I protest.

‘Oh, Daisy.’ Nico shakes his head sorrowfully. ‘Giving in to peer pressure. Didn’t you ever have a school assembly about this stuff? Honestly, just because the cool kids are doing it…’

‘Okay, cool kid. It wasn’t peer pressure. I didn’t like it that you all assumed I wouldn’t want one because I’m a delicate little woman.’

‘Hey, I don’t think you’re delicate or little,’ he says, then his mouth pulls up at one corner. ‘Well, you are actually very short but you have the energy of a much taller person.’

‘I have tall person energy?’

He nods sagely. ‘It’s why you had a room full of retired gangsters wrapped around your little finger.’

‘Alleged gangsters.’

Nico gives me a pitying look, making sure I know he’s humouring me when he says, ‘Alleged, sure. All those stories about the Rat Pack, though… the people they hung out with. Do you think Frankie had something going on with Marilyn Monroe at one point?’

‘Frankie’s too much of a gentleman to say either way.’

‘Obviously I was a bit dubious at first, but I have to admit I get it now. He’s a likeable guy. And I got some great shots last night. Before it all got a bit… cloudy.’

‘Oh, the photos!’ I exclaim, immediately regretting that burst of enthusiasm when my headache screams behind my eyes. ‘Maybe you’ve got some pictures of the rest of the night?’

He perks up. ‘Good idea, Nancy Drew.’ He gets to his feet, but after taking a couple of steps, he comes to a sudden halt. ‘Shit.’ He looks around the room. ‘I’ve got no idea where my camera is.’