44. Indy #3
His gaze hardens when it meets mine. All these years, I never remembered the hate.
I ached for the soft looks he saved just for me.
The love. We used to laugh so much. We used to talk.
It’s like when we fell for each other I forgot that long before that there were other emotions. The icy coldness of him loathing me.
And now it’s back.
It feels so much worse the second time around.
I look away and let my eyes wander over the room.
“Nice place,” I say when the silence has really stretched for way too long, with Nick scowling at me and Callum’s eyes moving between the two of us.
Callum turns his attention to me and grins. “It’s stupidly big. The job is still available if you want it.”
I blink at the seemingly out-of-nowhere pivot. I guess that answers the question of whether he knows Nick and I have a history. There’s no way he would hire his boyfriend’s ex-boyfriend, is there?
No. He definitely doesn’t know.
And now it makes so much sense why Nick didn’t want me to work for Callum.
I clear my throat, well aware I’ve been silent for too long. “Is it?”
I send a covert glance in Nick’s direction. His face might as well be made out of stone. Do I need a job? Yes. Can I handle working for Nick’s boyfriend? Probably not.
“I don’t think I’m the right fit.”
“Nick’s not here all the time.”
Wow. He just comes out and says it. Just like that. Exactly how transparent have I been?
I do my best to hide the wince. My boyfriend’s not here every day. Nights, though? That’s a whole different story. Also, we don’t fuck on every flat surface. Just the most expensive ones.
Nick lets out a deep exhale.
Callum rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to pretend I don’t feel all this tension?”
I raise my brow at Nick.
His jaw clenches before he purposefully relaxes it.
“Blue’s parents took me in after my mom died,” he tells Callum. “He was the boy from across the hall.”
That’s what I’ve been reduced to, I guess. Fine. This is fine. I don’t feel anything at all.
“If you want the job, it’s yours,” Callum says. I get the distinct impression that he’s feeling sorry for me, so that’s great.
“You already fired me,” I point out.
He waves me off. “I was threatened with unimaginable cruelty. We can pretend it didn’t happen.”
“I’ve never been a PA. I’m sure Dia and Bridge have done their best to lie their asses off about my qualifications for this position, so I’m just going to set the record straight.
I don’t have the faintest clue what this job actually entails.
” I tear the last chunk of my grilled cheese in half and inspect the pieces thoughtfully before I pop the smaller one in my mouth.
“In addition to that, I’ve always been relatively introverted, so there is always that point where people start to really annoy me, and then I will want to be alone because you will annoy me, and I will get snippy.
Preemptively firing me is a good decision on your part. ”
His lips twitch. “It’s all pretty standard stuff as far as I can tell. Scheduling. Errands. Emails. Keeping my life from collapsing into complete chaos.”
I’m shaking my head well before he’s stopped speaking. “My own life right now is held together with duct tape and stubbornness. I don’t think you’ll want to trust me with organizing yours.”
He grins, even though I’m very much serious. “I’m willing to take the risk.”
I squint at him. “What kind of athlete are you? Because based on the evidence, I’m starting to think you’re one of those that gets hit in the head a lot.”
“Football,” he says with a smirk.
I gesture in his direction. “There you go.”
He laughs out loud. “I like you.”
Nick lets out a choking sound from where he’s loading the dishwasher with our empty plates, and I find that quite enjoyable, actually.
“I am funny,” I say. “So I’ve got that going for me, for sure. I’m still not sure if it helps if I fuck up your schedule while having a good sense of humor, but to each their own.”
He laughs and looks at Nick. “I like him.” He says it like it bears repeating.
I take a quick glance at where Nick is standing, his back to us now. He doesn’t look tense. He doesn’t really even look like he’s listening anymore. Why would he be? Six years. A hot, successful boyfriend. Wow. I really don’t matter anymore.
I could spend the rest of eternity trying to find him. The Nick who loved me. The Nick who made me feel more comfortable with him than I ever was without him. The Nick who could see me without having to look and read me without opening the book. The Nick who knew me better than I knew myself.
But I’d still come up empty because that Nick doesn’t exist anymore, and he’s not willing to get him back.
Because you lied.
He’s not going to forgive me for hiding the truth from him. He’s not going to listen to my pathetic reasons.
It is what it is.
He left.
If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t really want to forgive him for that either, so we’re on even ground.
He doesn’t want you here.
And suddenly, in a haze of too little sleep and too many shots, this starts to feel like an opportunity.
I will be here.
He will have to see me.
He will have to remember.
And he will hate it.
And that prospect… Well, it’s starting to seem more than a little appealing.
Because fuck you, Nicholas Hayes.
Fuck you for forgetting me.