Ruin Me

36. Missed me

Nico was the first to get home, early on the Sunday morning, his face sun kissed and glowing. He woke me up at the crack of dawn by planting himself squarely on my stomach.

"Ow," I yelped as in my drowsy state I felt a large weight shift onto me. Automatically my brain went into panic mode thinking through who it could be.

"Wake up sleepy head," Nico's voice woke me straight up and sent all thoughts of fear out of my mind. I couldn't help the wail of excitement that left my mouth as I threw my arms around him, I'd never been so glad to hear a voice in my life.

"Nico," I held him so tightly I thought my arms would never let him go, I wanted to hold onto him forever and ever and feel the smooth linen of his shirt on my cheek and the exotic fragrance he oozed.

"Cara," Nico hugged me back equally as tightly, "I've got to say this is a far better reaction than I've ever received from any of the boys."

"You're never leaving again," I instructed, "it was awful without any of you this entire week."

"I'm all yours," Nico promised, "tie me here."

He retracted his arms from around me and offered me his wrists as if to allow me to handcuff them.

"I was hoping you'd stay of your own free will rather than me having to tie you down," I joked but there was a hard edge to my voice.

"Of course," Nico teased playfully ruffling my hair, "I promise I'm here to stay."

"Good," I nodded, "because I need to live vicariously through your stories about Argentina."

Luckily Nico was more than willing to share his experiences in Argentina and was actually an excellent story teller with a joke to crack with every line and a thousand wild and wonderful stories he would animatedly act out for me as we sat in the dining hall together eating breakfast. I heard all about his scatterbrained great aunt who was convinced she could talk to the dead and would often have conversations with her dead cat, his rebellion cousin who had just got a new armful of tattoos and was bringing shame upon the family and about his domineering grandma who could smell an untidy room from miles away. He mentioned all these wacky characters from his family and gave each of them their own unique voices and gestures that had me clutching my sides with laughter. But never once did he mention his dad. It had taken me a while to notice his absence from all the stories but once I did it was the only thing I could focus on, like there was this great hole in the tapestry of the story Nico was weaving. I didn't dare mention anything though, I'd let him bring it up in his own time.

Nico was halfway through a story about how his uncle got tied to the back of a pig and was dragged across a field when a voice cut in behind me.

"Cara Collins," it was booming and unexplainably deep and authoritative.

"Mitch!" I leapt straight out my seat and raced across the canteen directly into Mitch's open arms. He was handsome and beaming, he seemed to have grown even more in our week apart if that was possible, and towered over me more imposingly than ever but once I was in his arms I was safe.

"Missed me?" He chuckled at my reaction to his return.

"More than you could ever imagine," I clung onto him like a drowning person to a life ring.