Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Novalee
The laughter hits me first.
I’m a few feet away, close enough to see Nicholas but far enough that he hasn’t noticed me. He’s standing in the middle of the playground, helping a kid who looks about twelve attempt a backflip off a low step. The kid launches backward, and Nicholas catches him midair with careful hands, guiding the rotation. He’s focused, his hands steady on the boy’s back as he completes the flip, landing barely on his feet. The kid stumbles in the sand, laughing as he tries to catch his balance, and Nicholas laughs with him, his whole face lighting up.
I cross my arms and lean against a nearby post, taking my time to enjoy the scene. Nicholas is simply dressed in a T-shirt and shorts with a backward cap covering his brown hair, looking relaxed, carefree. I think back to how he’d looked at the gala, all polished and buttoned up, every inch the Harrington heir. Then there was the gym where, even with some of his walls down, he still seemed cautious, guarded. This Nicholas? The one laughing with kids, the one not looking over his shoulder every other second? This one is real.
I let my gaze linger, caught on the way his muscles move beneath the thin fabric of his shirt as he crouches down, encouraging another kid to take a turn. He looks good. Really, really good.
Fuck, Nova.
Am I really the one ogling him now?
It hits me how much all these guys have crept past my defenses. Sylus, with his sweet, relentless charm and that hot, persistent gaze that never lets up. Koen, who sees straight through me, making me feel safe in ways I didn’t think I could around anyone again. Levi, with his warm, easy friendship.
And then there’s Captain Bossy .
He managed it with only texts.
When I was alone at home yesterday, I’d wanted so badly to tell Rosalee and Ace about what was happening, what I’d said yes to, and the crazy mess I was diving into. The absence of them cut deeper than anything else, the ache of knowing that the two people I would have confided in, who would have understood in their own ways, were gone. It left me feeling empty like I was screaming into a void.
I needed something, someone, to distract me from the grief that clung to me like a shadow. The weight of it made the pull of alcohol almost irresistible. Instead of reaching for the bottle, I reached out to Captain Bossy. And somehow, in the space of those few words, the dam broke. I let out things I hadn’t meant to say. One message turned into two, then more, and before I knew it, I was pouring myself out to him. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but the need for connection, for someone to hear me, overwhelmed the careful barriers I’d kept up for so long .
There was a rawness in his words that felt like looking in a mirror as if his pain was my own. It made my heart ache in ways I don’t want to think about.
Maybe I’ve let them all in a little too much already.
At least Ezra is still an asshole.
Nicholas steps forward, crouching down to talk to the smallest kid in the group, giving him pointers with an encouraging smile. The kid’s eyes light up as he nods, listening intently. He hops up on the step, glances back nervously, and then, with Nicholas’s hands carefully guiding him, launches into the backflip.
Only the kid twists unexpectedly in midair, and one of his feet accidentally clips Nicholas’s head, knocking his cap askew. Nicholas lets out a muffled “oof,” stepping back slightly but keeping his hands firm on the boy to ensure he still landed safely on his feet.
“Whoa, buddy,” Nicholas says with an exaggerated laugh, adjusting his cap. “You trying to knock me out?” His grin is wide, teasing, and the kid giggles, looking both guilty and delighted.
“You okay?” the boy asks.
Nicholas ruffles the kid’s hair. “I’ll survive, but you owe me one. Next time, aim for something other than my head.”
The kid giggles again, and I have to chuckle too.
God.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was crushing on this guy.
Maybe, in another life, I could let myself.
But not in this one. Not only because he’s the mark but because I’m lying through my teeth about who I am. And because someone like me could never be enough for him.
All I love ends up hurt.
Taking a deep breath, I push off the post. Nicholas spots me as I approach, and his whole face lights up, a grin spreading as he takes me in. “Hey, I almost thought you wouldn’t come,” he calls out.
“Of course I did,” I reply with a wave of my hand at the scene in front of me. “I had to see what you were bragging about.”
He glances at the gathered kids, then back to me, his smile growing as his eyes sweep over me again. “Glad you made it.”
“Are you now?” I fight my own grin.
“Yup,” he replies easily. “I didn’t bring any money for my coffee later.”
“Right.” I let out a laugh. “How could I forget?”
He shrugs in a casual, boyish way that makes him look like a mischievous teenager, although he has to be thirty, the same as the twins. “We’re practicing our backflips.”
I glance over at the kids who’ve turned to watch us, some of them grinning up at me. “I noticed,” I say, flashing them a smile and a wave. “You guys are amazing. I always wanted to do a backflip out of a stand, but I’d probably just knock my head open.”
I can pull off flips on a pole, but I keep that little detail to myself.
“Really?” Nicholas grins. “Then let’s do it.”
I take a step back. “No, thank you.”
As if I’m trying to do a fucking backflip in front of him only to fall on my face.
“Oh?” His eyes glint with a challenge. “You’re scared?”
I cross my arms, giving him a once-over. “I mean, I haven’t seen you do any backflips either, so I guess you’re all talk.”
Utter mischief pours from him a split second before he casually shifts his weight, and in one smooth motion, springs up into a perfect backflip, his feet barely making a sound as he lands gracefully back on his feet. He straightens, dusting his hands off as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
Nicholas meets my eyes and chuckles, a pleased sound, clearly enjoying what has to be an awestruck expression on my face. The way he made it look so easy, so ridiculously cool? It’s unfair.
That’s twice I’ve rediscovered wonder in as many days, first with Levi and now with Nicholas.
“Your turn.”
“Nope.”
“Scared after all?”
This little fucker.
“Fine.” I glare at him as that competitive streak he’s already tapped into rises. “Show me what to do.”
Nicholas leads me to the step, positioning me with a patient smile that somehow has my nerves doubling. I glance at the kids who’ve been doing this like it’s nothing and then back to him, feeling slightly ridiculous. Except, he’s looking at me with that steady, encouraging gaze, and I feel a bit braver.
“All right…” he nods, “… lean back, trust me, and commit to the jump.” His voice is calm like he’s teaching me how to breathe rather than launch myself backward in the air. “I’ll catch you and guide you through it.”
I nod, swallowing thickly, the adrenaline sparking in my veins as I line myself up on the edge of the step. I bend my knees, glancing at him one last time.
“You got this,” he murmurs, his hands ready. “And I’ve got you.”
With a surge of determination, I jump.
My heart pounds, panic almost seizing me, but then his hands are there as promised, steady at my back, guiding me through the flip. The world spins as I twist, and for a moment, I’m not sure which way is up.
My feet hit the sand, a bit wobbly but solid. I stumble backward, and a laugh bursts from me.
I did it. An actual backflip. Without a pole.
Before I can think twice, I launch myself into Nicholas’s arms, a squeal of excitement bursting from my lips. “I did it!”
His arms wrap around me instantly, lifting me off the ground as if I weigh nothing. He leans back, taking me with him, and the world tilts as we laugh, breathless, exhilarated, and tangled together. My heart hammers against his chest, and in the tiny space left between us, his breath brushes against my skin, warm and scented with citrus and bergamot.
His green eyes blaze, catching mine with a glint of wonder as the air shifts. His gaze dips to my mouth, lingering there for a heartbeat… two… three. Time stretches, holding us in a delicate balance, before his eyes flick back up, filled with a question that makes my pulse stutter.
Yes, I want to kiss you.
“Hey, it’s my turn!” A kid yells, snapping us back into reality.
Nicholas clears his throat, and his hold loosens as he carefully sets me back on my feet. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks, his grin and hat both a little lopsided, as he leans in close to murmur, “Not bad for your first flip.”
I’m still catching my breath, but I manage a shaky laugh, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the sun on my skin.
Nicholas flashes me a grin, then turns back to the kids, all of whom are still buzzing in anticipation. He claps his hands together, calling them in for a quick huddle. “All right, team,” he says loudly, so it carries easily across the small group. “One last round, then we’ll call it a day. Everyone ready?” The kids cheer, scrambling back into position by the step. I watch as they do their last flips, Nicholas giving each one a high-five as they finish their turn. “You guys did awesome today. See you next week.”
As the kids dash off to their parents, who are waiting off to the side, Nicholas turns back to me, cap still slightly askew and sand dusting his legs, his face lit up with raw, unguarded joy. “Coffee?”
I smile back easily. “Yes, please.”
We walk silently over to a little coffee truck parked under a cluster of trees, away from the main playground. The air is warm, filled with the smell of fresh coffee and the faint sweetness of the pastries lined up on display. Nicholas glances at me, smiling, and a weird thrill settles in my chest that I try to ignore.
Definitely a crush.
When we reach the truck, he nods over to it. “What do you want?”
“My treat. Remember?”
He chuckles, looking a little sheepish. “I was joking.”
“I wasn’t,” I reply smoothly. “I’m able to buy you a four-dollar coffee, Nico.”
His eyes seem to light up when I say his shortened name. “Thank you, then.”
“So, how do you like it?”
His eyes flit between mine, and he licks his lips, answering, “Black, please.”
“Really? Didn’t think you were one of those people.”
I step up to the counter to place his order. I add my own, something indulgent and loaded with sugar, as it should be, and pay, returning the barista’s friendly smile as she hands over our drinks.
Passing Nicholas his coffee, I watch closely as he takes a careful sip. “Thanks,” he offers, holding my gaze, that casual warmth in his expression. “What kind of people were you talking about?”
“People with no taste.” I shrug with a smirk. “I had to watch to see if you truly enjoyed that.”
He huffs out a laugh. “So, what’s yours then?” he asks, gesturing to the drink in my hand.
I lift my cup with a grin. “Perfection.” I extend it toward him. “Wanna try? It’s not that hot.”
He leans in and takes a sip, then pulls back with a grimace. “That’s… pretty much diabetes in a cup.”
“It’s the only way to drink coffee,” I counter, taking a pointed, long sip, savoring the sweetness.
“So.” He raises a brow. “You’re into sweets?”
“Why would you think that?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“Well, first of all, you smell like fucking jellybeans.”
“Pity you’re not into sweets, then,” I reply casually, noting the glint in his eye.
“I never said that.” He steps a little closer, his gaze meeting mine. “I’m very much into sweets…”
Heat creeps up my cheeks, and I catch myself wondering why he’s actually getting to me.
What the hell, Nova?
Nicholas takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyes thoughtful as he looks over the park and then back at me. “Tell me about yourself.”
“What do you want to know? My deepest traumas or my favorite color? You gotta be more specific.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I want to know everything, eventually.” He says it so genuinely that my heart skips a beat. “For now, let’s start with this. Would you rather start life as someone else or start your life over again?”
Easiest question ever.
“Start my life all over again,” I reply without hesitation .
If I could erase that one mistake, rewind the clock, they could still be here.
“What about you?” I ask, planting myself back in the present, curious about what someone like Nicholas Harrington would say.
He doesn’t even blink. “Start as someone else.”
“Who would that be?”
His gaze drops, and he smiles to himself, almost as if he’s admitting a secret. “Someone nobody knows. With a little flower shop. Just me, some scissors, rows of lilies and roses… a place to make something real.”
I’m so caught off guard by his answer and the softness in his voice. He’s exposing a part of himself to me freely without expecting it in return. The idea of Nicholas, this guy with wealth and status, wanting nothing more than a small, simple life surrounded by flowers? It’s disarming, and I’ve already had too much difficulty with maintaining emotional boundaries with him.
“You’d give up the Harrington name and all the money for a flower shop?”
He meets my gaze. “You wouldn’t even have to ask twice.” He takes a sip of his drink, then lets it drop to his side as he looks into the distance. “All the money in the world isn’t worth shit if it’s not yours to live how you want.”
I nod, his honesty triggering a strange ache inside me.
This is getting too heavy for a first date.
“Well, it’s worth something,” I murmur, offering him a small smile. “At least you could open a flower shop that loses ten grand a month and still not care. Just make pretty bouquets all day.”
He laughs, and I imagine it—him surrounded by flowers, scissors in hand, at ease in his own world. Then my mind wanders back to the question, the idea of starting over. He must sense it because he tilts his head at me and asks, “So, why would you want to start over?”
“To see people again,” I answer, unable to stop myself. My throat tightens. “People I’ve lost.”
I glance down, swallowing hard.
“You’re missing Oscar?” he asks, his tone careful, respectful.
Ah, shit.
I have to tread carefully here, having no idea how well he knew Oscar when I didn’t know him at all. Although… I could play this right.
“You probably knew him better than I ever got to, honestly. I didn’t really know him at all. I only found out he was my uncle through his will. He was practically a stranger to me.”
His face softens, an apology settling in his expression. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance. Oscar was… a good man. One of the few I’ve ever known.”
I study his face for any trace of dishonesty, searching for a hint of anything sinister, which the guys seem to think he’s capable of harboring. But there’s only sincerity and a quiet kind of sadness and regret that’s as real as the day around us.
If he knows anything about what his mother did, if he’s part of any of it, then he’s an incredibly convincing liar. The Nicholas standing here with me, talking about flower shops and lost people, doesn’t fit the profile of someone complicit in something that cruel.
Maybe he’s more trapped in this world than they’ve ever realized.
After that admission, the conversation fades into a comfortable silence, and I know it’s time for me to leave, to make myself scarce, keep him hooked. Before I do, something has to come from me, something to show him I’m interested too .
“What are you doing Saturday evening?” I ask, feigning a casual tone, even though my heart is racing.
Why is my heart racing?
“Why are you asking?” A smile breaks across his face, slow and knowing.
“I thought…” I glance away, playing it coy, letting a smile tease my lips, “… maybe we could…”
His hand slides over mine, brushing along the back of my hand, his touch sending a thrill up my arm. “I’d love to go out with you, but… it’s the Desert Bloom Gala on Saturday. My mother’s annual thing, where she puts on her good face to give back all that crap she pretends she cares about. However…” he continues, with a hint of a grin. “I heard she invited the twins, so I’m guessing you’ll be there too?”
Will I?
“Right.” I nod, letting out a laugh. “I forgot about that.”
“I guess,” he starts, his eyes warm and focused on mine. “You’ll have to stay with them, then… being their assistant and all.”
“Most of the time, probably.” My lips curve. “I’d be more than ready to ditch bad company again for a few minutes, though. If you’re willing to let me bask in yours.”
“Absolutely.” He says it in a way that makes me believe it’s a promise.
There’s a pause, neither of us making a move to leave. Finally, he steps back and empties his cup, taking my empty one too. He tosses them in the nearby trash can before turning back to me.
“Thanks for coming.” He steps closer, slipping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me in. He doesn’t let go, just long enough for my heart to flip in my chest. “I’m glad you came, Rosie,” he murmurs softly against my hair.
He may as well have dumped a bucket of ice water over my head .
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Me, too,” I say, barely more than a whisper before he lets go of me.
I step back, turn, and make myself walk away, the ghost of his touch fading slowly as I go. The truth is, he’s starting to feel a little too real, a little too close. And the last thing I need is to become truly attached.
Needing to shake off what just happened, I pull out my phone and type out a quick message to Sylus.
Nicholas thinks I’ll be at some gala on Saturday with you guys.
Any idea what that’s about?
He replies almost immediately.
I’ll get everything sorted and check in with you soon, Sparkle baby.
I stare at his message, relief and dread suffocating what was a nice day.
I can do this.
As long as I don’t think or feel anything too deeply.