Chapter 4
FOUR
For a solid three seconds, I am stone. Frozen. Statuesque. A mannequin riddled with anxiety. The only thing moving is the tiny gold truffle now rolling off one of my plates because my grip has officially given up.
Alma recovers first and catches it before it hits the ground. “Absolutely not. Do not walk over there. Don’t even look over there. Pretend they’re ghosts. Pretend you can’t see them. Pretend—”
I thrust both overloaded plates into her hands.
“Noelle, no!” she squeaks, juggling my food like a contestant in a very upscale circus. “We had a plan! You had a resolution! Please tell me you’re not about to—”
I am.
Straightening my mask, I lift my chin and stride across the ballroom as if my heels are weapons and my pride is the fuel.
Every step feels heavier, sharper, louder.
My pulse roars in a rapid staccato within my ears as both men watch me approach like I’m the storm they summoned but aren’t sure how to survive.
Good.
Let them sweat.
The moment I enter their orbit, I pounce without hesitation.
Grabbing each of them by the lapels of their perfectly tailored tuxes—Klaus on my left, Nick on my right—I yank.
They go willingly, which only pisses me off all the more as we slip out of the ballroom into the quieter hotel hallway.
The door thuds behind us, quelling the blaring music to a muted thump.
It’s only then I realize this was a terrible idea.
The lighting is much softer out here, warmer and entirely too romantic for the interrogation I’m about to conduct.
I release them and immediately plant my hands on my hips. “Start talking.”
Klaus flashes me that lopsided grin and flicks a piece of imaginary lint off his jacket. “Nice to see you too, kitty cat.”
Nick simply lifts a curious eyebrow as the corner of his lips hike up in a smirk, the same one that once made my knees buckle. I am not falling for it now.
Probably.
Maybe.
“No,” I snap. “No charm. No pet names. None of that suave, sexy shit. I want answers.”
“About?” Nick asks, his voice that maddening calm tone.
I gesture wildly between them, my hand flapping about almost comically. “This. You. Appearing here like…like—”
“Like two men who want to talk to you?” Klaus supplies dryly.
“Like stalkers,” I correct. “At a masked ball, for my work.” Some things never change… “How did you even know I was here?”
The father/son duo exchange a look, the kind that hints one of them is about to say something of incriminating variety.
Klaus sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair. “We went by your place on Christmas Eve.”
My stomach drops, eyes widening behind the shield that is my mask. “You did what?”
“To surprise you,” Nick explains, waggling his brows. “Like last year.”
Jesus-fucking-Christ.
Some things really don’t change.
“You weren’t home,” Klaus continues. “But your fridge was.”
“My…fridge?” I echo, confused beyond belief.
Nick nods. “The party invitation was right there in plain sight. Location, time, dress code…”
What the fuck?
“It was on the side of the fridge!”
“Yeah, next to a neon pink ‘Don’t forget your leftovers’ sticky note and a whole motivational quote about hydration,” Klaus adds.
Well, that’s not embarrassing or anything…
“That still doesn’t explain why you came,” I argue, even though the answer is staring all three of us in the face.
Klaus’s jaw visibly ticks. “You disappeared, that’s your explanation.”
“I was busy,” I retort, sharp, defensive heat flaring in my chest. “It’s not like you weren’t knocking down my door, either.”
“Sure, busy.” He scoffs through his nose. “Sounds like you were avoiding us.”
“No. I was…recalibrating.”
Nick tilts his graying head. “Recalibrating?”
“Reevaluating,” I clarify.
“Reevaluating what?” he presses.
“Things were getting messy. I needed space.”
“You could’ve said that,” Klaus says. There’s no accusation in it, just a small, quiet hurt that lands like a punch to my sternum.
“I didn’t know how,” I admit. “If I chose one of you, I’d lose the other, and if I kept going the way things were, everything would blow up anyway. So I walked away.”
“You didn’t just walk away. You ghosted us.”
“Can you blame me? Everything was unraveling and I didn’t want to screw up your relationship. It was strained enough because of me already!”
Nick steps forward then, that blue-eyed gaze locked on mine. “We decide what affects our relationship. That’s not up to you.”
“I was trying to be responsible!” I shout.
“By ghosting us?” Klaus growls.
“I don’t know! I…panicked!”
Tensions thicken, crackling in the air around us like embers. Frustration, longing, confusion, it’s all there, threatening to overwhelm us at any given moment.
Feelings really do ruin everything.
Now it’s Nick who drags a flustered hand through his hair as he expels a deep breath. “We’re not doing this in a hallway.”
“Why not?” I demand.
“Because you’re yelling,” Klaus deadpans.
“I am not yell—”
One of his hands wraps around my bicep, effectively silencing me. Not hard, just in grounding way. Familiar. “Come upstairs with us.”
I blink up at him, trying my damnedest not to get lost in those piercing green eyes. “I’m sorry, what?”
“We have a room. It’s quiet, and most importantly, private.”
I hesitate, and I mean really hesitate. Rationality screams. Logic waves its arms about like red flags. My resolution beats its tiny fists against the door.
“Just to talk,” Nick adds, voice low and warm enough to short-circuit my brain as he sidles up to my other side. “You owe us that.”
I hate that he’s right.
I hate that they both know he’s right.
I hate that I’m caving.
I let out a long, suffering sigh, my eyes going for a defeated spin. “Fine, but only to talk.”
Klaus’s smirk says sure, Jan without a single word.
Nick’s mouth twitches like he’s fighting one of his own.
And I, the world’s biggest idiot, let them lead me toward the elevators, dignity and self-respect nowhere to be found.