Chapter 17
Nash
Everyone is still asleep. The main room is a landscape of blankets and bodies.
Malachi and Candace are on the floor, Candace curled into his side, his hand in her hair.
Knox is on the far couch with Sloane tucked against him.
East and Darla are on the other couch, his arm around her belly, her head on his shoulder.
Rider is in the recliner with his guitar across his lap.
Kyle fell asleep against the half wall, head tipped back, mouth open, and Amelia is on the loveseat three feet from him with a blanket stretched across both of them that neither will admit to pulling.
Frankie rode home to the loft above Amaranth around midnight. James and Maggie took the spare room upstairs.
Ruby is on the couch closest to my wall.
She's curled on her side, copper hair fanned across the cushion, one hand tucked under her chin.
She fell asleep during Rider's last song.
Her shoulders dropped first. Then her jaw softened.
Then her breathing slowed and her body sank into the cushions.
I stood there watching it happen the way I watch everything about her. Still. Eyes on her the whole time.
I didn't sleep. I stood at the wall and watched her breathe. Her eyes had found mine across the room before she went under. She wanted me to cross to her. I stayed at the wall.
The coffee maker hisses. I pour two mugs, set one on the counter, and lean against the sink. The predawn light through the window is gray-blue. East's snoring carries from the main room, louder than Darla would ever believe.
James rounds the corner in his pressed shirt, untucked now, sleeves rolled to his forearms. The steady, unhurried steps I've known for years. He sees the second mug, takes it, wraps both hands around it, and holds it against his chest before he drinks.
"You stood at that wall all night," he says.
"Yes."
He drinks. Sets the mug down carefully.
"She pulled back," I say. My jaw tightens. I didn't plan on saying any of this out loud.
"I know."
"She's still Ruby. Still loud, still funny, still filling every room she walks into.
But she stopped aiming any of it at me. The jokes, the teasing, the way she used to try to pull a smile out of me.
" My jaw works. "The other night she almost did.
She made me laugh and her whole face lit up, then she just..
. shut it down. Walked away. That was worse than anything. "
James is quiet for a long moment. "You love that girl?"
The question hits like a fist. I grip my mug.
"Don't answer me. Answer yourself." He holds my eyes. "If the answer is yes, then fix it, son. Before she decides you already gave her your answer."
My chest tightens.
"I pulled back first." My jaw sets. "I kissed her. Then I pulled back. This is my fault."
"Then fix it."
"It's complicated."
"It's exactly that simple. The complicated part is what you're carrying." He taps the counter once with his knuckle. "You just have to stop pretending she doesn't matter."
East shuffles around the corner, rubbing his face with one hand, his hair standing in four directions.
"Coffee," he says.
I pour him a mug. He drinks half of it standing at the counter with his eyes closed, opens them, looks at me, looks at James, and reads the room in two seconds.
"We talking about Ruby?"
James picks up his mug and walks toward the door. He pauses beside me, grips my shoulder once, hard enough to register through the cut.
"Go do your job," he says.
He leaves. East leans against the counter and crosses his arms.
"She's miserable, brother."
"I know."
"Do you know why?"
"Because I pulled back."
"That's half of it." East sets his mug down. "She came to the fight circuit last Friday."
My whole body goes still.
"Kyle was on her building," I say. My voice drops. "How did she get out?"
"Slipped out the back stairwell. Drove her car. Took the long route past the warehouses." East watches my face. "Kyle didn't clock it until she was already gone."
My fist clenches against the counter. Kyle missed her. With the windshield photos, with the threat escalating, Kyle missed her leaving her own building. That conversation is coming, but it's not happening now.
"She saw your bike in the lot," East says. "She saw you inside. With Naya."
The coffee maker drips into the silence.
"She saw Naya touch your arm. She saw you press the headband." His voice is steady. "She thinks Naya is yours, Nash. She thinks the headband belongs to a woman you're in love with and the kiss was a mistake you corrected."
My hand grips the counter. The edge bites into my palm. "That's—"
"I know. You know. But Ruby doesn't. What she saw looked clean from where she was standing."
"How do you know this?"
"Candace. Last night."
I set my mug on the counter. The ceramic hits harder than I intend.
"Nash—"
"I'm going to her."
"She's asleep." East steps into my path. "Same place she's been all night. Take a breath first."
I'm already moving. East grabs my arm.
"Brother. Take a breath."
"She's spent a week thinking I'm in love with someone else." I pull my arm free. "A week. While I'm standing ten feet away trying to figure out why she stopped looking at me."
"I know. That's why I'm telling you." East holds my gaze. "The investigation stays between us. Webb, Lawrence, all of it. Until you're certain."
"I know what stays."
"And Nash." East picks up his mug. "Don't just tell her about Naya. Tell her the rest of it. The part you won't say to me, or James, or anyone else in this clubhouse." He takes a drink. "Tell her she matters."
I walk out of the kitchen. The main room is still dim, gray light filling the windows. Bodies shift under blankets. Knox is awake, his hand in Sloane's hair. He looks at me crossing the room and says nothing.
Ruby is still on the couch. Curled on her side, copper hair across the cushion, her breathing slow. The freckles I plan to count are scattered across her nose and cheeks. Her mouth is soft. Her face is bare.
I crouch beside her. Close enough to smell coconut.
"Ruby."
Her eyes open. Green. Unfocused. They find me.
She blinks. Her jaw sets. Her shoulders straighten. The softness from sleep disappears and the brightness clicks on behind her eyes.
"Morning," she says. Bright. Easy.
"We need to talk."
"About what?" She sits up, pushes her hair back. "If this is about the prank war, I want my attorney present."
"Now, Ruby."
Her mouth closes, and the brightness fades from her eyes. She swallows, searches my face, and whatever she finds there keeps her quiet.
"Okay," she murmurs.
I stand and hold out my hand. She looks at it, looks at me, and takes it.