46. Nick
FORTY-SIX
NICK
“Um, maybe seven?” Blue glances down at his watch. “I’m not sure. I’m still at work.”
He throws a quick look over his shoulder in my direction. I’m sitting at the kitchen counter twirling my phone in my hands. Waiting. Instead of hearing about Callum’s schedule from Dia or the man himself, I’m now forced to cooperate with Blue. Somehow, I hadn’t considered that before.
We’d just sat down when his phone started ringing. It had been lying right by his hand on the table, so I caught the name that flashed across the screen before he picked it up.
Dylan.
I don’t know who that is. Against my will and in direct opposition to all logic and common sense, it bothers me that I don’t know. When he speaks to this Dylan, Blue sounds like himself. He sounds like Blue from six years ago. He sounds happy. He sounds comfortable. No tight shoulders. No tension.
Every part of me burns with questions, even while I try to convince myself that I don’t give a single shit.
“Yeah, we can do that on the weekend.” Blue laughs. “I have to check out the view you promised me.”
I hear the faint hint of a voice on the other end, but I can’t make out the words. My fingers tighten around my own phone.
“I’ll finish up here, then I’ll come find you.” Blue ends the call. He comes back to the counter and sits down.
Don’t ask.
Don’t ask.
Don’t ask.
“Who was that?”
Blue blinks at me, clearly caught off guard. His eyes flick down to the phone he placed on the counter a second ago, then back to me.
“Dylan,” he says, like it should explain everything, and there’s a moment of clarity where it clicks into place that this Dylan person is someone established and permanent.
Someone woven deeply enough into Blue’s life that his name requires no explanation at all.
The people in Blue’s life likely know exactly who Dylan is.
He doesn’t need to elaborate. It’s Dylan.
Obviously. Everybody knows who Dylan is.
Everybody except me.
He’s still looking at me, his green eyes so impossibly bright.
It was the first thing I noticed about him when I saw him that first time.
The eyes. Nobody has eyes like Blue. They’re so green they look almost unnatural.
Contact lenses, I bet some people think.
They’re wrong. I’ve seen those eyes in the early morning, blinking open sleepily.
I’ve seen them shining with laughter. Dark with anger.
I’ve seen them aimed at me from across crowded rooms like I was the only thing worth looking at.
I’ve watched those eyes go soft right before he kissed me.
I’ve seen them burn with need, looking up at me in the middle of the night when I’m inside him.
Maybe that’s the problem. I know those eyes too well.
One look from Blue, and suddenly I’m nineteen again and hopelessly in love and stupid enough to believe we could never hurt each other.
What the fuck are you doing?
I look away.
This is why him taking this job was a terrible idea. That invisible tether between us might be bent out of shape and have cut marks all over it, but it never really snapped.
That’s a problem.
A fucking frustrating problem.
“By all means, waste both of our time with personal calls. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be,” I say.
There’s nothing familiar in the look he sends me now. Instead of warmth and happiness there’s careful distance. Whatever he might be feeling is buried under caution now. Under hurt.
I feel like shit immediately, and then I hate that I feel like shit.
I don’t want to care.
“It’s…” I rub my hand over my face and blow out a breath. “It’s been a really long day.”
It’s a fucking copout. Not an apology, even if he deserves one from me for the way I just snapped at him.
“Yeah.” He glances out the windows quickly as if to confirm that it is indeed the evening already before he turns the iPad on again.
“I put everything in a calendar app.” He rubs the bridge of his nose, right between his eyes.
“I already sent you the invite, so it syncs to your phone, and then you’ll have an overview about what’s happening on any given day.
” He drags his fingers through his hair distractedly and clicks on a couple of dates at random.
“It’s color coded. Just to separate things.
Football related. Travel. Engagements. Stuff like that. ”
I lean closer and raise my brows at the neat rows. “I don’t think Callum’s ever been this organized in his life.”
“Yeah,” he says with a small laugh. “What’s up with that? He seems sort of competent when he’s on TV, and then…” He shrugs instead of finishing that thought.
“Then you realize he once missed a flight because he got distracted in the candy aisle.”
Blue laughs. Really laughs. The sound hits me right in the chest.
“Really?” he asks. He’s still grinning.
I forgot how much I like making him laugh. No, that’s a lie. But I remember more clearly right now than I usually allow myself to.
I nod.
He keeps on grinning. Once again my gaze gets stuck on his. Silence stretches between us. Silence and eye contact.
He clears his throat and looks away.
“I’ve never had a boss like him. He’s…”
“Like an oversized golden retriever,” I finish for him.
“Kind of, yeah.” He avoids my gaze again. Clears his throat. Again. “How did you… How did you end up with him?”
His voice sounds strange. There’s a forced lightness to it that doesn’t mask the tension, and I don’t understand why it’s suddenly so thick. We’re on neutral ground for the moment, aren’t we?
“Bridget,” I say. “She ambushed me. Told me, ‘I know this guy. He needs you.’ Turns out she was right.”
Blue’s gone as still as a statue. Almost as if he’s hanging on my every word, only it feels like kind of the opposite. Like he’s zoned out, but also very alert, somehow.
“Blue?”
He jerks his head back toward me.
“Right. Work. I have to…” He takes a glance at his watch. “It’s getting late.”
“Sure. Can’t keep Dylan waiting.”
He narrows his eyes. “Eavesdropping? Classy.”
“You were always loud.”
I don’t mean it as an innuendo, but Blue’s cheeks go red, so now I’m definitely thinking what he’s thinking. Remembering what he’s remembering.
And the idea of somebody else knowing just how loud he can be…
“We should go through the schedule day by day.”
He blinks. “What?”
“Just so there won’t be any confusion.” I tap my finger on the iPad screen. “That’s a whole new system for me.”
He frowns and takes another look at his watch. “You’ve never seen a calendar before?”
“Better safe than sorry.”
He rubs the tips of his fingers over his forehead. “Yup. Let’s get to it, then.”
“Unless there’s somewhere else you need to be.”
He’s starting to look both annoyed and tired by now. “Meaning?”
“Just sounded like you had plans before.”
He sits still for a moment, his lips slightly parted. “Is that what it was about just now?”
“Is that what what was about?”
He waves his hand in the air in front of me.
“You not having seen a calendar before. Are you trying to keep me here? For what? You afraid I’ll accidentally enjoy life or something?
” He lets out a humorless laugh and gets up from his seat, grabbing his phone and taking a step back.
“You tossed me away years ago. You’ve moved on.
But I guess that doesn’t matter, so sure, let’s just keep punishing me.
I don’t want to play these mind games. Take the job.
Now you’re fired. No, wait, you’re hired again.
I can’t do this, okay? I thought I could, but it turns out I can’t, so I guess you win. ”
That’s a lot to process, so it takes me a moment.
I shake my head and stand up. “Wait, what?”
He turns around in the doorway and blows out a breath. “Forget it. I’m going home.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You were right!” he snaps. “Okay? Congrats. This isn’t working. It’s not happening. Just… tell Callum I’m sorry.”
Before I can say anything else, he’s gone.
I think it’s impossible to say I’m not the asshole here.