pushed through the double doors that led outside. Darkness and cold wind greeted us. My teeth chattered; although, I didn’t know if it was from the cold or after effects of adrenaline from my outburst.
His long steps carried us to the football stadium. Nico easily found a clandestine secret passage where we could squeeze through. The passage led to the hollow space beneath the bleachers, and the wind died as we entered the manmade cavern. Soda cups, water bottles, and napkins littered the dirt.
Nico paused just inside and glanced at me. He withdrew his hand, slipped off his jacket, and placed it over my shoulders. I watched him as he did this, his face illuminated only by horizontal lines shining through the bleachers from the full moon and the quilt of stars overhead. His eyes moved between mine as he tugged the collar of his jacket closed around me, and we stood in silence, starting at each other.
He looked expectant, tense, agitated.
His gaze drifted to my lips. He licked his.
The sma ll movement made my heart race, and I broke the silence with a rush of words. “God—that was crazy, those women were completely crazy.” For no reason at all I hit him on his shoulder. “Why don’t you have security guards?”
“Elizabeth,” he swallowed the end of my name. “Do you . . . did we . . . do you have something to tell me?”
“Yes. You need to hire yourself some security.” I nodded at the assertion. “I don’t think those women were going to stop until they had you naked—”
He closed his eyes briefly, shook his head, and interrupted me. “Forget about that—what about the child?”
“The child ?” I frowned at him. “Nico. . . there is no child. I said that so those psychos would back off.”
He blinked at me, seemed to be holding his breath, his eyes were impossibly large. He released the lapels of the jacket and took a step back.
“There is no child.” He sounded skeptical and surprisingly angry.
“Of course there is no child. I was trying to keep twenty crazy females from tearing your clothes off.” I straightened my dress needlessly before adding. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
His voice rose , and he tucked his shirt back into his pants with jerky movements. “Then why didn’t you yell fire! Or aliens! Or anything else that wouldn’t have given me a heart attack? Why did you yell the child is yours ?”
The vehemence and volume of his voice took me by surprise ; I didn’t immediately respond, but when I did I tried to sound soothing, calm. “It’s illegal to yell fire in a crowded room. I didn’t want them to freak out, I just wanted them to stop—”
H e turned away. He stuffed his fists in his pants pockets and stomped to the slanted wall created by the bleachers. He turned. He glared at some unknown spot beyond the slats.
“I didn’t think . I wasn’t trying to—did I—did I embarrass you?” I thought I might suffocate on guilt.
“No . No—not at all. I wasn’t embarrassed at all. It’s just, for a minute I thought. . .” He shook his head as though to clear it. In the shadow and half-light of the moon, his face in profile, his features appeared as though carved from granite. I allowed myself to look at him, see him. He looked tired. In school, when I knew him, he never looked tired. He’d been bursting with restless, aimless, infectious, enigmatic energy.
As an adult , I was discovering that he continued to radiate a difficult-to-ignore magnetism, but it felt more controlled, directed, harnessed. The effect was potent, heady when he focused the laser beam of charisma on a single person, as he’d done with me earlier.
Nico stirred and crossed the space with measured steps until he was just inches from me, his attention focused on the dirt at his feet . “If there is a child then I want you to know that we would get married.”
It took me a moment to comprehend his words; when I did, I choked, “What?”
“I w ill marry
His long steps carried us to the football stadium. Nico easily found a clandestine secret passage where we could squeeze through. The passage led to the hollow space beneath the bleachers, and the wind died as we entered the manmade cavern. Soda cups, water bottles, and napkins littered the dirt.
Nico paused just inside and glanced at me. He withdrew his hand, slipped off his jacket, and placed it over my shoulders. I watched him as he did this, his face illuminated only by horizontal lines shining through the bleachers from the full moon and the quilt of stars overhead. His eyes moved between mine as he tugged the collar of his jacket closed around me, and we stood in silence, starting at each other.
He looked expectant, tense, agitated.
His gaze drifted to my lips. He licked his.
The sma ll movement made my heart race, and I broke the silence with a rush of words. “God—that was crazy, those women were completely crazy.” For no reason at all I hit him on his shoulder. “Why don’t you have security guards?”
“Elizabeth,” he swallowed the end of my name. “Do you . . . did we . . . do you have something to tell me?”
“Yes. You need to hire yourself some security.” I nodded at the assertion. “I don’t think those women were going to stop until they had you naked—”
He closed his eyes briefly, shook his head, and interrupted me. “Forget about that—what about the child?”
“The child ?” I frowned at him. “Nico. . . there is no child. I said that so those psychos would back off.”
He blinked at me, seemed to be holding his breath, his eyes were impossibly large. He released the lapels of the jacket and took a step back.
“There is no child.” He sounded skeptical and surprisingly angry.
“Of course there is no child. I was trying to keep twenty crazy females from tearing your clothes off.” I straightened my dress needlessly before adding. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
His voice rose , and he tucked his shirt back into his pants with jerky movements. “Then why didn’t you yell fire! Or aliens! Or anything else that wouldn’t have given me a heart attack? Why did you yell the child is yours ?”
The vehemence and volume of his voice took me by surprise ; I didn’t immediately respond, but when I did I tried to sound soothing, calm. “It’s illegal to yell fire in a crowded room. I didn’t want them to freak out, I just wanted them to stop—”
H e turned away. He stuffed his fists in his pants pockets and stomped to the slanted wall created by the bleachers. He turned. He glared at some unknown spot beyond the slats.
“I didn’t think . I wasn’t trying to—did I—did I embarrass you?” I thought I might suffocate on guilt.
“No . No—not at all. I wasn’t embarrassed at all. It’s just, for a minute I thought. . .” He shook his head as though to clear it. In the shadow and half-light of the moon, his face in profile, his features appeared as though carved from granite. I allowed myself to look at him, see him. He looked tired. In school, when I knew him, he never looked tired. He’d been bursting with restless, aimless, infectious, enigmatic energy.
As an adult , I was discovering that he continued to radiate a difficult-to-ignore magnetism, but it felt more controlled, directed, harnessed. The effect was potent, heady when he focused the laser beam of charisma on a single person, as he’d done with me earlier.
Nico stirred and crossed the space with measured steps until he was just inches from me, his attention focused on the dirt at his feet . “If there is a child then I want you to know that we would get married.”
It took me a moment to comprehend his words; when I did, I choked, “What?”
“I w ill marry
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