Chapter 25
Hiding a relationship with a former international pop star turns out to be much easier than Nick anticipated.
They don’t go out in public.
They only sneak into each other’s houses after sundown.
And once—fine, twice—long after classes are done for the day, they lock themselves in his office, where he drags Ramona to the edge of the desk and gets on his knees.
He feels high on her, this girl who brought color back into his world. And while he likes that they can be loud together—he loves when she’s loud—he likes being quiet together, too.
The week after Thanksgiving, they fully indulge in that quiet, cozying up on the couch in her less tacky living room.
Her legs are in his lap, face in a textbook, a blanket draped over them both.
He’s grading papers for one of his other classes, and every so often she pops her head up and asks if something is going to be on the final.
Every time, he just lifts his eyebrows at her over his glasses, knowing she wouldn’t want him to tell her anyway.
“This cat is going to bankrupt me,” Nick jokes as Janet tears apart a feather wand in the corner. She’s warmed up to him more and more, especially when he brings treats or toys.
Ramona glances up from her book. She’s in fuzzy socks and a sweatshirt, hair piled adorably on top of her head. “Isn’t it more satisfying to work for it? Who’d want a pet that would just instantly shower you with love and affection?”
“Most people!” he says with a laugh, reaching for a couch pillow to bonk her on the leg. “That is literally the reason most people get a pet!”
Ever since Audrey and Ramona met in the kitchen, his niece hasn’t been able to stop talking about it.
Nick made sure to check with Lexi that it was okay—sort of a beg-for-forgiveness scenario—though when Audrey asked if they were dating, he realized there was no thirteen-year-old-appropriate label for what he and Ramona are doing.
He hasn’t heard any more whispers around campus, but that doesn’t mean people aren’t whispering. Hunter Page, the psych TA, gave him a meaningful look when Ramona stayed after class to clarify something about the homework—even though she really was just asking about the homework.
Now that it’s early December, the fact of the matter is that fall quarter is almost over.
The year will end the way it always does for him, with a trip to his family’s cabin in Mammoth Lakes.
And while he’ll miss her desperately for that week he’s gone, maybe once he gets back, they can stop hiding.
Except she’s still going to be a college student. For three more years, she’s going to be a student.
She said she wants to be normal, but she’s still going to be Ramona Wilder, with everything that entails.
She’s still going to be a decade younger, though that’s starting to bother him less and less.
Especially when she teases him about some show or movie he missed out on, and they watch it together while tangled in her bed.
And she’s not the only way his life has changed. He went out with Jozef Brodziński the other night, the two of them trading stories about their classrooms and their upbringings, until Nick glanced at his watch and couldn’t believe two whole hours had passed.
“Tell me about your tenure,” Ramona says now, nudging his thigh with her fuzzy sock. “That’s potentially a few months away, yeah?”
“Why does it seem like you’re trying to do anything but study?” he asks. Five minutes ago, she requested a break so she could crawl into his lap and kiss him until, when he picked his papers back up, the words swam in front of his eyes. He didn’t mind one bit.
“Maybe I already know everything.” She taps her temple. “So. Essentially it means you can’t be fired, right? And there’s a committee that makes the decision? I did a little research.”
His heart swells at that. “Yes. It just about guarantees you the position for life. It’s supposed to protect professors from teaching or publishing anything that could be considered controversial—which I’m not sure I’m doing, but it would be a huge relief to have that kind of job security.”
She leans closer so she can brush her hand along his cheek, thumb dipping into the space between his brows, like her touch could erase all his worry. And honestly, maybe it could.
“They’d be idiots not to grant it to you,” she says softly. “You work so hard, and you love what you do. And you’re easily the best in bed. At least, according to .”
He brings her hand to his mouth. Kisses her fingertips, and then her knuckles. When they’re together, he never wants to stop touching her. “Naturally.”
After a few more minutes of quiet, Ramona snaps her book shut and sits up on the couch. “Okay, now I’m officially sick of studying. Besides, I have a surprise for you and I hate keeping secrets.”
Nick sets his papers down, because truthfully, it’s impossible to focus with her this close to him anyway. “Oh?”
She nods toward the backyard. “I got the Jacuzzi fixed.” With a grin, she lifts her sweatshirt over her head and beckons him to follow her outside.
—
The next time Ramona goes with him to view an apartment, the Saturday before finals week, he can tell the agent definitely knows who she is. The woman doesn’t say anything, but with the way she gets flustered and seems overly concerned with Ramona’s opinions, a sense of unease creeps through him.
“Not bad,” Ramona says, running a fingertip along a granite countertop.
Nick had hoped for a stronger reaction. I want you to like it, he thinks, because I want you to want to spend time in it.
“A little pricey,” he says.
“Maybe we can get them to shave off a hundred.”
“I don’t think they do that for rentals.” He tries not to focus on the way she said we. Like the two of them are a team, even though he’s the only one who’d be living here.
Still, Ramona turns toward the agent, on a mission. “Shelley, hi. My friend really likes the unit,” she says. “But the price isn’t quite what he had in mind.”
Shelley seems thrilled Ramona is addressing her. Still, she remains professional. “It’s a very in-demand area.”
“Totally. I get that,” Ramona says with a vigorous nod. “But I’m guessing you won’t have many showings over the holidays, and you probably want to get this rented before the end of the year…”
Shelley looks at her for a long moment, twisting her mouth to one side. Nick might be worried about her exposing their relationship if she’d given him more than a cursory glance when they first shook hands.
“I might be able to rustle up some kind of deal,” Shelley says, and gives a number that’s altogether too tempting—until she gives Ramona a suggestive lift of her eyebrows, so slight that Nick can’t predict what’s coming.
“I hate to ask this, but you wouldn’t mind FaceTiming with my daughter, would you? She’s never going to believe this.”
Nick is utterly dumbfounded—the gall of her to make this kind of request while at work. He has to fight every urge to leap in and say, Absofuckinglutely not.
But the smile plastered on Ramona’s face, one of her fake ones, doesn’t budge. “I’d be happy to! So glad that she’s a fan.”
Shelley grins at Nick. “I’ll send over the contract tonight!”
Yeah, like hell is he signing that and letting her get any of the commission.
They’re quiet in the car afterward, Nick’s mind in a hundred different places. The plan was to stop at the Lake Hollywood trail for a hike—Ramona’s been wanting to take him for a while, and they figured it would be less busy after sunset. Less risky.
“You’re upset,” Ramona says when they park. Their shoes hit the dusty path.
Up above them, the Hollywood sign perches on Mount Lee, Santa Monica Mountains spread in the distance.
At first Nick doesn’t say anything, unsure where their boundaries are when of course he can’t understand what it’s like in her situation.
But he knows how Ramona looks when she talks about her past. How people took advantage of her, manipulated her, abused her.
How furious it makes him.
Over the past few weeks, she’s shared more and more—the recovery from her warped body image, her good days and bad days. Every new piece of information cracks him in half.
“You just let her bulldoze you like that,” he says, grateful the trail is empty. “You sold yourself out, when we both know you hate doing that kind of shit. You didn’t owe her anything, Ramona.”
Nick doesn’t realize his pace is matching his words until Ramona has to hurry to keep up with him. “I was doing it for you. And look. It got you a good deal, didn’t it?”
That is so far from the point.
“You tell me you want to be normal. The first day I meet you, that’s what you say.” He can hardly believe what he’s turning this into, but it felt so surreal, watching her turn herself into a product like that. “You can’t just turn it on whenever it benefits you.”
“If you haven’t noticed,” she says, voice rising, “I don’t get the luxury of being ‘off.’ Even now, trying to live my private life, going to school and helping you look for an apartment—there’s someone watching me.
Maybe not forever. God, hopefully not forever.
But for as far into the future as I can see… yeah, I’m still under a microscope.”
This stuns him, this mention of the future, because suddenly there’s so much else he wants to know about it. What will she be doing and where will she be living—
And in her vision of it, is he there, too?
Then they’re both quiet for a while, Nick understanding why Ramona likes hiking so much. In a world that’s continually crushed her independence, there’s a certain freedom out here. The whisper of the wind, the calm of the reservoir. Maybe nature really is healing.
He pauses in the middle of the trail, blows out a long breath as he turns to her. “I’m so sorry,” he says, giving the zipper of her fleece a soft little flick. “I don’t want to fight.”
She visibly deflates. Claws retracting. “I know. It’s stupid, right? I wish it could be different, but…”