Delaney James was wearing Chanel the night her husband told her he didn't love her anymore.
In an instant, her picture-perfect Manhattan life-complete with a brownstone on the Upper East Side, a blossoming career as a fashion journalist, and a devas...
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I wake up expecting Nico's gangly limbs wrapped around me and a puddle of drool on the pillow next to my head. Instead, I'm alone. My eyes feel swollen, my mouth is like the desert, and my head is pounding – probably from the bourbon. Or the crying. Possibly both.
Before I can drag myself out of bed, the door flies open. Nico bursts in with his arms full.
"Are you alive?"
"No," I mumble, throwing an arm over my face to block the sunlight. "Tell my family I loved them."
"That's unfortunate," he says cheerfully. "Because I brought offerings."
I crack my eye open in curiosity just as he flops onto the bed, sending my stomach into a violent flip.
"Venti iced shaken espresso, almond croissant, the biggest bottle of water I could find, and four extra-strength Tylenol."
I sit up and take the bag and coffee from him, pressing a grateful kill to his cheek. "This is why I love you."
"Obviously."
Hoping a bit of food might help, I tear off a small piece of croissant, but the nutty, buttery smell hits my nose and I gag instantly. The croissant lands with a thud in Nico's lap, and he just shrugs, eating half of it in one bite.
Coffee though – that's my salvation. I wrap my lips around the signature green straw and take a long drink. The cold sweetness slides down my throat, and I tip my head back with a relieved groan.
"Uh, should I leave you and your overpriced coffee alone?" he teases.
"At least my overpriced coffee won't sleep with its assistant."
His smile fades into something softer and he bumps my shoulder. "How are you feeling? And I don't mean after the bourbon and MSG."
"In a word?" I lean against him. "Awful." I sigh and close my eyes. "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 a kiss to my forehead. "Just not in the way you want."
I know Nico loves me fiercely, but I'm missing a very important piece of equipment he happens to prefer, so no matter how much we care about each other, romance has never been on the table.
Not that he's ever hidden who he is.
Nico came out to his parents when he was in high school, although if you ask him, he says he was never "in" to begin with. He assumed they already knew. It only became a formal conversation when his mother once referred to Sloane as his girlfriend and he nearly choked on his meatloaf correcting her.
They didn't handle it perfectly at first. There were questions. Worries and tears. A lot of awkward attempts at understanding. But in the end, they told him the only thing that mattered was that they loved him exactly as he was.
