“Gentlemen, you need to take this outside before I call the cops,” called out our waitress, interrupting the start of their pissing contest.

“Nico, Michael didn’t hurt me. I was just upset. None of this is your business. You need to leave, now.” I asserted as firmly as I could, desperate to prevent a fight between the two men in my life. “I promise we can discuss it later. I won’t run. I know we need to talk, but this is not the time or place. Please.”

My words finally penetrating, Nico’s eyes released their hold on Michael and dropped to where I stood with my hands pressed against his chest. His face was wrought with indecision, but when he glanced at the waitress holding her cell phone in her hand, he released a frustrated breath.

“Tonight you’re staying with me—no more running—and we’re working this shit out.” His eyes demanded my compliance, which I readily gave.

“Okay.” I nodded quickly. “I’ll be there, I promise. Now, please, let us finish breakfast before she calls the cops.”

Nico shot one last icy glare at Michael before retreating to the door. The second he was gone, I took a deep, steadying breath, and the hum of conversations picked up around us.

“He’s intense, that one,” Michael said humorlessly as he slid back into the booth.

“He wasn’t always,” I replied sadly. “The years have changed him, but it happens to all of us.”

Michael paused with his fork midair, tilting his head. “You’re still every bit as in love with him, aren’t you?”

His observation stunned me.

I started to respond twice before I managed to make any sound. “Yeah, I think I am.”

He nodded with a small smile. “Then you need to give him a shot—a real one. No grudges or resentment. You need to be open with him and let him in.”

The truth of his statement resounded in a place deep in my chest. He was right. I owed it to us both to give us a second chance. To finally explore the potential of what existed between us. “I will, I promise.”

He speared a sausage link, then winked. “Good, now eat. I’m gonna have to leave one hell of a tip, and I want my money’s worth.”

Shaking my head, I dove into my food with a grin.

I’ll pick you up from work. The text came in from Nico just after lunch, stirring a swarm of radioactive butterflies in my stomach. Excitement, anxiety, fear—nearly every emotion on the spectrum fought for dominance inside me.

Gallery closes at seven. I offered in response.

I know. Of course, he did. I should have expected nothing less.

That left me with just shy of five hours to kill before we had our come-to-Jesus talk. Never in all my life had five hours lasted so long. Despite every distraction technique I tried, the minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly. Teetering on a precipice for the better part of a day was exhausting. By the time six rolled around, I was ready to get our talk over with one way or the other.