Page 42 of Just A Little Fling

“True confessions: I’m not sure I would say I’ve really dated anyone since high school. Casual means casual.”

“Has that been working for you?”

“Yeah, it seems like it to me.”

I wasn’t entirely convinced Nico was being honest with me about that assertion, but I wouldn’t belabor the point with him either. What I wanted to do was show him because being told wouldn’t convince him he was worth every bit of effort on his behalf. Given the glimpses he’d allowed me, I was certain he wouldn’t want that level of attention. When it was fun and games, Nico was all for it, but when it was the stuff that mattered, he wanted no part of it.

“I bet you didn’t know this about me, but I’m a guy who likes all clarification on the rules.”

Nico looked at me with wide and incredulous eyes, then leaned forward on the table as if he hadn’t heard me correctly.

“I like to know what the rules are. Hell, I like for everyone to know what the rules are,” I reiterated.

Nico’s demeanor turned from faux shock to outright laughter. His eyes crinkled in the corners, and his whole body shook with laughter.

“You can’t be serious,” Nico said as he wiped tears away from his eyes. “If I looked at your laptop, how many spreadsheets would I find?”

“There’s a couple,” I retorted. Spreadsheets are what made the world not fall apart. Everyone should have spreadsheets on their laptop. “And how many do you have?”

“There’s two. Is that what you’re telling me? Also, I leave all my organization at the office.”

“There may be a slightly larger number than two.”

“And by slightly larger, do you mean like ten?” Nico’s eyes twinkled as he interrogated me.

“Ten is a nice round number.”

“So what I hear you saying is that there’s more than ten. How many of them are color-coded?”

“All of them,” I answered with a bark of laughter. “No, wait, I just started one this morning. I haven’t picked a color yet. What’s your favorite color?”

“You made a spreadsheet for me?”

“Of course I did. How else will I keep track of what I need to get you, what you already have, and where I got it in case you need it again? It’s a time saver.”

“Babbo, you’re too much.” Nico shook his head at my spreadsheets, but I wasn’t giving them up for anything.

Or him.

CHAPTERELEVEN

NICO

“It’s yellow.” The color of sunshine and sunflowers.

“What’s that smile for?” Babbo asked.

I wished it was possible to control a blush because I could feel the heat as it crept up my neck to stain my cheeks. “My Nonna lived out on the peninsula, and every summer, she’d get PopPop, my granddad, to plant rows of sunflowers. He used to tease her about it being a waste, but her answer was always thatsunshine and happiness were never wasted.

“Do they still live out there?”

“No, PopPop passed a few years ago.” This wasn’t the direction I expected our conversation to take. Talking about them always made me feel a little melancholy.

“And your Nonna?”

“After PopPop passed, she couldn’t stay at home anymore with her memory decline, so she’s in an assisted living place here in town.”

She’d made my folks promise not to take on the burden of having her in the house. My parents agreed, but they also scoured the city to find an appropriately decent place for her and we all visited often to ensure it stayed nice. She repeated questions a lot, but she still knew who everyone was. The warm weight of Babbo’s hand covering mine startled me.

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