Chapter 25 Nina
Nina
For a moment, we just stare at each other.
From where he’s standing with his back to the door, there’s about four feet between us, but somehow it feels like no space at all.
My body once again—you guessed it—freezes.
There are about a million things I want to do right now, but I’m waiting, holding my breath, to see what he does.
Wes just continues to stare at me, though.
His hand is splayed out on the door, fingers pressing against the wood, like he can’t quite trust himself to move and needs to keep himself anchored there.
His eyes are so intensely green right now.
I feel like they could burn a hole through me if I let him keep looking at me like that.
It occurs to me all at once that I’m going to have to be the one to break the silence, even though he followed me into the room. That doesn’t feel fair. But then again, none of this has felt fair. Him coming back into my life like this. Almost close enough to touch, but so very far away.
“What are you doing?” I ask him quietly. My voice is an annoying combination of breathlessness and another, more unfamiliar quality that for once, I don’t bother to obscure from my tone—irritation.
It’s enough to make Wes blink out of his stupor, finally breaking that too-intense, too-long stare. “Uh. I . . .” He clearly did not plan this out and has no idea what to say.
On another day, I might have found this charming, might have even taken some hope in it. But right now, today? It just annoys me further. “You shouldn’t be in here. Someone might notice—”
“FBI,” Wes blurts unconvincingly.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “FBI?”
Credit where credit is due, I guess, because he commits to the bit. “FBI business. We need to check the ID of your companion, make sure he isn’t a security threat.”
The sigh that escapes my throat happens completely without my permission. But once it does, I realize it is the only appropriate response to this situation. “Wes. Come on. This is . . . you can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?”
“This!” It comes out firmer, louder, than I meant it to.
Wes glances at the closed door behind him, so I lower my voice, but I hold on to my aggravation.
I am so very sick of pushing it down, pretending like it’s anything else.
“I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do.
I’ve answered your questions. I’ve kept your secret.
I’ve lied to my family. I’ve stood by and watched while you—”
Looked at Harmony the way you used to look at me.
Use her like you used me. I bite off the words, still not able to say them, even though my body is shaking with anger.
Determinedly, I hold his gaze, wanting him to see, to know, just what all of this has cost me.
“You don’t get to corner me in empty rooms,” I finish.
I realize that I’m shaking. “And you certainly don’t get to play the jealous boyfriend. ”
I wait for him to deny it, but he doesn’t. He clenches his jaw, like he’s biting back something he shouldn’t say. A muscle ticks in his cheek. We are staring at each other again, and the room is so full of unspoken things, it feels like I might drown in them.
“I can’t—” he starts.
I’m desperate to know where that sentence ends, but before it does, the door starts opening behind him. Wes moves just in time so it doesn’t knock him over, flattening his back against the wall behind the door, obscuring himself from whoever’s entering on the other side.
It’s Lyle. Lyle’s head, to be more precise, poking through the gap in the open doorway. “Nina. Coast is clear. You can come out now.”
So much has happened in the past two minutes that I honestly forgot why I came in here in the first place. Perry. He must be gone now. I do my best to smile at Lyle, nodding. “Okay. Thanks.”
I hesitate. This conversation, whatever is happening here with Wes, doesn’t feel like it’s over, but Lyle is clearly waiting for me to follow, and I can’t think of a single excuse why I shouldn’t.
It’s probably for the best anyway, I realize as I slide my gaze back to Wes’s, just for a moment.
The air between us is so charged it feels like the room might implode if I stay here any longer.
As I walk past him—still not close enough to touch, but close enough that we could touch if we both reached out our arms just a little bit more—it feels like I’m on fire.
Once I’m back in the bakery, I can’t run outside fast enough.
I round the corner of the building, away from the crowds of people who’ve gathered to watch the filming.
Once I’m out of sight, I take in a few deep breaths.
Maybe I should quit the show. Maybe I should pretend that I’m sick.
Maybe I should try to find some excuse to go back to Chicago.
Uncle Aaron won’t like it, but he really wouldn’t like it if he knew all the secrets I’ve been keeping.
Someone clears his throat behind me.
For one heart-stopping moment, I think that it might be Wes, but when I turn around, it’s Grady who’s followed after me. He eyes the expression on my face. It must give away everything that I’m feeling, because he sighs deeply. “All right, Nina,” he says, “out with it. What’s going on?”