Delaney James seems to have it all-a successful husband, a stylish Manhattan townhouse, and a thriving career in fashion journalism-until it all falls apart. Her husband leaves her, shattering the perfect life she once knew. Heartbroken and desperat...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I wake up expecting to find Nico's gangly limbs wrapped around me, a puddle of drool on the pillow where his head rests, but I'm alone. My eyes feel puffy and dry, and my head hurts, which could be the result of drinking on an empty stomach, but I'm sure it's because I sobbed myself to sleep. Before I can drag myself out of bed to get a glass of water and some Advil, Nico bursts through the bedroom door with his hands full.
"Are you alive?"
"No," I mumble. I throw my arm over my face to block out the early morning sun. "Tell my family that I loved them."
"That's too bad, gorgeous, because I have goodies," he announces. He flops onto the bed, causing my already churning stomach to flip, and crosses his long legs at the ankles. "A venti iced caramel macchiato from Starbucks, an almond croissant from Manhattan Mocha, the largest bottle of Smart Water I could find and four extra strength Tylenol."
"Thank you." I sit up as I take the bag and coffee from his hands and kiss him on the cheek. "This is why I love you. You always know exactly what I need."
Hoping a few bites of food will settle my stomach, I pull the croissant from the bag and tear off a piece, but the second the buttery aroma hits, I gag. I drop the croissant in Nico's lap, snickering when he shrugs his shoulders and eats half the pastry in one bite.
Coffee though, that's my savior – a rescuer I need more often than I'd like to admit – and one of the only things I can keep down when I'm hungover. So, when I wrap my lips around the signature green straw and the creamy, caramel flavor slides down my throat, I can't help but tilt my head back and moan.
"Would you like me to leave so you and your macchiato can be alone?"
"At least my macchiato won't sleep with its assistant."
Nico smiles sympathetically and bumps my shoulder with his. "How're you feeling? And I don't mean from all the bourbon and MSG."
"In a word – awful." I lean my head against his shoulder and sigh. "Why can't you be madly in love with me? It would make my life so much easier."
"I am madly in love with you." He presses his lips against my forehead. "Just not in the way you want me to be."
I know Nico loves me fiercely, but I lack a certain appendage he prefers, so no matter how deeply we love each other, a romantic relationship will never be an option.
Nico came out to his parents when he was in high school, although if you ask him, he was never really in. He never felt the need to sit them down and tell them he's gay. He figured they already knew, but when his mother asked if Sloan was his girlfriend, he realized they needed clarification. They were upset and his mother cried, but in the end, they told him they'll always accept him for who he is and love him no matter what. To this day, he still hates the fact that his sexual orientation causes concern from his family, but he knows they're just worried about him and the hurt he might endure from the world's close-minded opinions.
