Friends Without Benefits

[Nico’s Heartfelt Apology x (My Mistakes + My Regrets)] + Reason Why = Magical Forgiveness

I leaned against the wall and searched my mental grudge inventory. His name was missing. I was no longer angry at Nico.

“Huh,” I said to the empty hall. . . weird.

Haltingly, I continued down the corridor to the CRU, trying to find some reason to dislike him. It took me seven steps to remember that he was a comedian who made his living trying to get celebrities na**d on television. I used this as fuel and allowed myself to get worked up.

He was frequently na**d on his show; there were mostly nude women parading around and giggling for god’s sake—giggling, half-naked women. How could I ever respect someone who thought that was okay? How could I respect myself if I condoned it?

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s never going to be interested in you now so stop confusing yourself, weirdo.

When I rounded the corner to the Clinical Research Unit nurses’ station, I was so lost in my internal nonsensical struggle that I didn’t immediately see Dr. Botstein and Nico huddled together by the door to room 410 or Meg hovering in front of the nurses’ counter.

I was nearly upon them when Dr. Botstein’s voice pulled me from my musings, causing me to stumble over my own feet. “Ah. Here she is.”

I looked from Nico to Dr. Botstein—who was smiling. It was freakish, bizarre to see Dr. Botstein smile. It made me immensely uncomfortable so I opted to look at Nico instead.

“I—”

I was unprepared, and I met his stare directly. Where I had predicted a pang of sad embarrassment, I was met with a shock of hot awareness. Nico wasn’t looking at me with pity or disgust. His gaze held mine hostage, and he was eye-twinkling like a champ.

I’d been gaze-hijacked.

“I—” I attempted to speak again.

Then he smirked, his lids lowering to half-mast. Twinkling, hot-lava, sexy cake, sex-on-a-stick, obscene levels of charisma.

Freaking Nico.

I sighed. It was a weak-woman sigh. It was the sigh of a female helpless and ensnared by the hypnotic gaze of the guy she fantasizes about.

I’d never been so happy to hear the sound of Dr. Botstein’s voice; it was a hard sharp slap to my cranium. “Dr. Finney, I believe you are acquainted with Mr. Moretti?”

“Hello Elizabeth.” Nico nodded his head once in my direction.

“Ni—I mean, Mr. Moretti. Good to see you.”

Nico smiled at me, caught his bottom lip between his teeth. My breath hitched, stomach flipped at the simple action. His effortless and playful sexiness was mind muddlingly maddening.

“I think it’s okay for you to call me Nico. Dr. Botstein is aware of our relationship.”

“Our—?”

“Yes, well, Mr. Moretti already explained the nature of everything.” Dr. Botstein returned his attention to Nico. At this point Meg crossed to stand next to me and nudged me with her elbow. I ignored her as Dr. Botstein continued. “We’re just pleased that you’ve decided to enroll your niece in our clinical trial.”

“You have?” I was surprised.

Most of Nico’s nimble playfulness waned with a shift in the conversation to serious matters; his expression turned sober. “Yes. My mother and I called Dr. Botstein last week and talked through our questions.”

“You did?” I asked.

Meg nudged me again with her elbow. Again I ignored her.

“Yes, Dr. Finney.” Dr. Botstein said, exhaling his impatience. “I saw no reason to discuss the matter with you as I wasn’t aware that you knew the family. And, besides, your research rotation was set to end tomorrow. Obviously, it will be extended.”

“It will?” A troubling thought immediately arrested my attention; I was worried that the decision to enroll Angelica in the clinical trial had something to do with me. Or rather, more precisely, had something to do with Nico and me.

“Yes. Obviously,” Dr. Botstein said.

Meg elbowed me again, this time with a great deal of force. I turned slightly to give her the stink eye but, before I could, I found her glaring at me with unfettered displeasure. She was giving me the stink eye.

Hag.

Dr. Botstein continued. “And, obviously, everything will be done under my strict supervision. I have complete faith in Dr. Finney, of course, but as I explained last week, the infusion schedule is rigorous. Since you’ve opted out of an admission to the CRU, bringing little Angelica back to the hospital every eight hours for the next twenty-eight days requires a great deal of dedication.”

Nico nodded. “We understand.”

“Wait.” I pulled my attention from Meg’s continuing death stare. “I don’t understand, why is my research rotation being extended?”

“Because, Mr. Moretti and his mother requested that you treat the patient during the study period,” Meg finally spoke, her voice false and chipper, and she continued to glare at me. “But don’t worry. My research rotation will start as normal and the research nurses will conduct the other patient visits as usual. I just won’t be taking care of Angelica—seeing as you are such good friends with the family.”

I stared at her, my eyebrows meeting my hairline. “I’m going to do what?”

Dr. Botstein shifted, pulled his pager from where it had been clipped on his scrubs. “Excuse me.” He glanced at the screen and tsked. “It looks like I’ll need to get this. Thanks so much for coming in today. Dr. Finney will get Angelica started on the paperwork and screening tests, all very run of the mill. Please call me—day or night—with any questions. I’m here to help.”

“Thank you. We appreciate everything,” Nico said as the two men shook hands.

With a curt head bob in my direction that seemed to convey both annoyance and respect, Dr. Botstein turned and stalked away from us. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and barked orders to some faceless person on the other end.

My eyes locked again with Nico’s, and I noticed that I was holding my breath, waiting for something. Silence stretched. Nothing happened. Well, nothing happened not counting the unwavering intensity of his gaze, my resulting increase in heart rate, and our lengthy staring contest.

Someone cleared their throat very loudly, and I turned toward the sound. The clinical research nurses were sitting behind the nurses’ station, pretending to do work but obviously eavesdropping on the entire conversation. They both peered at me with Cheshire grins. I glanced at my feet, attempted to gather my wits.

I sensed that Meg was about to nudge me again with her sharp elbow so I sidestepped the movement and advanced on Nico. I felt an acute need to speak with him alone. Despite his and Dr. Botstein’s assurances, I wanted to make sure Rose and Nico had made a fully informed decision about Angelica’s treatment.

And, if I were being completely honest, I also just wanted to be alone with him—preferably in some enclosed space where I could smell him.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” My eyes shifted to the clinic room, where Rose and Angelica were visible through the open door; I gave the pair a small smile of greeting then returned my attention to Nico and added, “Privately?”

“Sure.” He didn’t frown, but he didn’t smile either. However, his eyes dropped to my mouth and lingered there.

“Okay—here.” I grabbed his hand. “Come with me.” I pulled Nico, not stopping to consider why I decided to hold his hand when a simple gesture to follow would have sufficed. It wasn’t because I desired contact with him, loved the shock of awareness that spread through me where we connected, craved it like a drug addict in need of a dopamine fix. . . nope. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I led him to a vacant infusion room down the hall. I pushed him inside. I ignored the curious glances from Meg and the nurses as I shut the door.

Gathering a steadying breath I turned to face him, prepared to interrogate Nico about his reasons for moving forward with the research study. Instead I found him just behind me, less than three feet away, and his proximity rendered me stupid.

I could smell him. He smelled quite good. Therefore, when I met his gaze I could only manage to breathe out the word, “Hi.”

“Hi,” He said. He was leaning against the wall with one shoulder, outwardly relaxed and wholly at ease.

Curses!

And he was looking at me funny.

Not angry or disappointed. Not worshipful either.

He looked interested. Like I was something new and curious. Like he was readying himself for something amusing as well as potentially important.

As usual, the intensity of his focused attention made me feel unbearably self-conscious; my lashes fluttered under the weight of it. “What? What is it?”

Nico shrugged. The shrug did little to decrease the concentrated sharpness of his funny look; “You tell me. You’re the one who wanted to talk privately.”

It might have been my imagination, but the room felt abruptly smaller after the word privately passed his perfectly formed mouth.

“Oh. Yes. Well.” I cleared my throat and tried to mirror his relaxed posture, resting my shoulder against the wall and crossing my arms. “There are actually a few things I’m hoping we can discuss, starting with your decision to enroll Angelica into the study.”