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“Whichever part tastes the best.”
“Ah, you’re killing me.”
“You’re killing me,” Frank whined. “Probably literally.”
“Okay, where are you?” she asked, now slightly concerned.
“I’ll tell you everything when we get back.”
“Back from where? When?”
“Tonight. Late.” After a notable pause, Nico asked, “Are you really that afraid to go home?”
Now it was Lexie’s turn to go quiet, the truth sticking to her insides, refusing to come out.
“Never mind,” he said, to which she exhaled her relief at not having to admit such a childish thing. “Look, there’s a spare key to my cabin hidden in a small lock box under the bottom step of the porch. I’ll send you the combination. You’re welcome to go there if you want. No strings attached.”
“Really? None?”
“Well, of course, nudity is preferred, but not required.”
“Nico, are you sure? I don’t want to invade your space.”
“Of course, I’m sure. You must be exhausted. Go put your feet up. I can take you home later.”
Lexie’s aching bones pleaded for her to accept. She’d been on her feet for over twelve hours. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll think about it.”
“You do that. I gotta go.”
“I don’t know what you’re doing, but I feel the need to say be careful.”
“I will. Bye, baby.”
“I’m not your baby.”
“But you loved the way it sounded, right?”
And with that, he disconnected.
Lexie kept the phone to her ear a few seconds longer, listening to the dial tone while she contemplated their conversation. When she eventually hung up, Annie was standing behind her, arms crossed.
“ ‘I’m not your baby?’ ”
Lexie groaned. “Don’t start.”
“That man is hotter than a jalapeño dipped in lava, and you’re holding him at arm’s length.” She tilted her head, reminding Lexie of a bird. “Why?”
“Looks aren’t everything, you know,” she replied, picking a notch in the timbered bar to avoid making eye contact. This conversation felt distinctly like one they’d had before.
“Oh, right,” Annie said, using her fingers as a checklist. “Let’s not forget that he’s also got the charm of James Bond, the wit of Chandler Bing, and the culinary skills of Gordon Ramsay. He’s a triple threat, and he’s only got eyes for you. Yet, for some reason, you’re stalling.”
“How do you know he can cook?”
“He’s Italian, which means his mother is Italian,” she said, like the answer was obvious. “He knows how to cook, trust me.”
Lexie took a minute to process Annie’s scolding, arriving at the same conclusion. What was she doing? She had every right to take up with whomever she chose, regardless of how Kyle would react. He was a disease in her life that required swift and brutal excision, no matter the consequence. She knew it, had known it for a long time. The problem was, she’d been here before. Feeling brave. Confident. Ready to take him on. Right before he’d choked her in her own home just for kissing another man. The time before that, he’d gone after Dalton, an innocent guy who never stood a chance against Kyle’s hateful violence. She felt like a deer entering a meadow, taking two steps forward, one step back, another step forward, then retreating into the safety of the tree line the second a twig snapped nearby. It was ludicrous, and no way to live. Constantly afraid. On edge. If she kept going like this, her body might survive, but her spirit would die.
She refused to let that happen.
