Page 65 of Made in Love and Blood

“Sad, huh?” Frankie joked.

“Depends on why.”

“Oh, where do I start? Growing up, dead mothers, or—”

“Ah, the dead mothers club,” Nico interjected. “Say no more.”

She forgot, but only momentarily, that he too happened to be a member of that unfortunate club.

“Shitty fucking entrance fee,” he muttered then, glancing away.

“Tell me about it.”

“How’d yours die?” he asked.

Frankie blinked at the straightforward way he asked that question. “Car accident. Slippery road. Foggy night.”

“Hmm.”

“Yours?”

Although, she thought she had the answer already.

Nico’s jaw worked hard grinding before he forced out, “They say post-partum depression, I guess. Killed herself a couple of days after having me. Felt like everybody’s blamed me for it ever since.”

Frankie didn’t speak; she couldn’t. Was that what her father meant the night he confronted Giorgio in the hospital?

Nico wasn’t looking for a response, anyway. “Wow, I really fucked up that mood, didn’t I?”

She laughed as awkwardly as he must have felt given the way he looked in that moment.

“It’s okay,” she replied, “I’m having a day of revelations. It’s fitting for you to add to it.”

“Yeah, let’s go with that. Anyway, I do have something like a gift for your birthday.”

“Oh, what?”

“Me.”

Her eyes slammed into his, widening.

He winked back.

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

“I heard you need a date.”

“You mean prom? How did you know about that?”

“Carina called a while ago. I almost didn’t pick up.” He looked so unbothered in his black, distressed jeans and hoodie with the hood thrown up over his head. All that messy black hair of his poked out wildly from under the hood, framing his face. He bit his lip then, and the sight did something interesting to Frankie’s insides. “Except she never calls, literally never. I didn’t even know she had my new number.”

“So, you picked up.”

“Yeah, I picked up.” His stare met hers, intense and overwhelming in the best possible way. “I’m glad I did. Prom?”

She couldn’t do anything else but nod and whisper, “Yeah, okay. Prom.”

“I’ll be right back; I’ve got to go talk to your dad.”