26. nick
NICK
FUCK THEM
Tallulah, Tallulah, Tallulah.
She was all I ever thought about anymore.
The shy smiles that curved her lips, the way she crossed her legs when she was typing, how her thighs trembled against me, the way we now cuddled together after sex.
How her breathing evened as she fell asleep in my arms. The little hums when she nuzzled closer.
I was fucking addicted to that girl.
After practice, I pushed open the door to the main lobby of the Olympic Village.
It was…busy. Which was weird. Athletes were strolling in, rolling their suitcases, laughing and talking together.
It was too early for the Olympians, but with a quick scan, I noted that most of them were Canadian. They must’ve been moving them in early.
I arched an eyebrow, amused. Didn’t they just call in a welder for the HVAC system yesterday?
I snorted. “This place fucking sucks.”
It was a Tomasini specialty. Pretty appearance, and shitty, rundown interior. He always cut corners. Nothing new here.
Whatever, those athletes would find out soon enough.
They weren’t my reason for showing up. Today was the day the winner would be selected for the internship.
Tallulah was bound to win, no doubt about it.
And once she won, I’d take her out to celebrate.
It took me a while to figure out how to celebrate.
I’d carefully considered Montoya’s suggestions, but in the end, I put the plans together myself.
I couldn’t wait to see the look on Tallulah’s face.
“Kurosawa!” Max called from the elevators.
My good mood dampened. “Welles.”
“I’m moving into the Village.”
“Yeah, I got eyes.”
He grinned, motioning the other cyclists to take the elevator without him. Apparently, he didn’t want an audience. He leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Was he trying to look relaxed? He just looked like a douchebag. “They want the Canadians here early.”
“Fascinating.”
“It’ll just be us.”
“Enjoy the construction at four in the morning.” I shot him a mocking grin. “And the clogged drains because maintenance is busy building the fucking building. The floorboards on the third floor are fucked up too—”
“Tallulah talks a lot about you.”
That certainly got my attention. I waited for the other shoe to drop, but Max smiled. I hesitated. “Really?”
“Yeah. I asked and she assured me, you’re just friends.”
I flinched. Fuck, that hurt. It was like he jabbed a knife at me. He might as well have. I straightened up, looking away. “What about it?”
“Ooo, Kurosawa,” he taunted. “Did I hurt your feelings? I didn’t know you had feelings to hurt.”
Silent, I stared hard at the door.
“I guess you and Tallulah aren’t good enough friends,” Max continued, oblivious to me ignoring him. “She doesn’t know about Tomasini. She didn’t even know you played for Canada—”
Fuck. This asshole knew where to hit me. “What’d you tell her?”
“Nothing much. Should I have?”
“Welles…” I warned.
“Tomasini is flying back to Toronto tomorrow.” He said, prodding me with every word. “Everybody’s been telling me not to worry about him. Because he’ll be too focused on you.”
My jaw clenched. I’d heard the rumors too, my captain specifically sat me down to tell me.
“Cut the shit,” I snapped. “What’s your fucking issue?”
“My issue?” Max demanded. “You slept with Robby’s girlfriend before the Ski Dive-on Marathon!”
I stared at him incredulously. “That was two years ago.”
“Our scores were so low, I had to leave skiing!” Max jabbed a finger at his neon shirt, a design of a Canadian Flag woven through a bike’s wheel. “I fucking hate cycling!”
“Robby was an emotional trainwreck, and his girlfriend came on to me—”
“You ruined my chance!”
“Are you serious? Tallulah has nothing to do with that—”
“You’re right, that’s not the real reason.” His anger cooled. “Tallulah’s a catch, we both know it.”
I bristled. I couldn’t help it.
“Seeing you, Nick Kurosawa, the biggest fuckboy I’ve ever met, sulking over the girl I’ll get with will be the cherry on top.” A smirk crossed his face. “I want an American girlfriend. It’s the Olympics, international relations and all that—”
I cut the distance between us. “Listen here, motherfucker—”
The door to the meeting room flew open, interns flooding out, eyes on their phone for the results from the panel of advisors. I didn’t want Tallulah to see me fighting with Max. My footsteps were quick as I made my path to Tallulah, leaving that shithead cyclist behind.
“Tallulah?” I took the chair diagonal to hers when she sat down. “Did you…?”
“No, not yet.” She chewed her bottom lip. “They’re sending feedback any minute now.” Her eyes flickered to Max, coming close, and her face lit up. “Hi, Max!”
“Hi, Tallulah.” That motherfucker beamed at her, leaning over the couch. “Are you excited to win?”
Her face burned with a blush—a blush?! “Oh, I don’t care about winning.” Tallulah lifted a shoulder, unconcerned. “I found one of the tickets, I’ll get feedback. That’s what I want.” She nodded to herself, inches from her phone screen. “I’ll know how to improve.”
I nudged her knee. “I know you’re going to win. I have plans to celebrate after this.”
She smiled, shy. “Really?”
Max got her attention. “The cyclists and I are going to a bar crawl tomorrow night, do you want to come? We can celebrate there.”
Tallulah blinked. “Oh, um—”
“She doesn’t like to drink during the week,” I interjected. “Because she writes at night.”
“One drink,” Max promised.
“You’re forcing her to drink?” I pressed.
“What?” Max glanced between me and a confused Tallulah. “No, no, no, I didn’t say that—”
“Then what are you saying?” I asked. “Because it sounds pushy to me.”
“Kurosawa, you don’t need to answer for her—”
“Yeah, Welles? You don’t need to be a prick about it—”
Tallulah flushed a darker color, glancing between us. “Um, guys, this isn’t a big deal—”
Some of the interns squealed at their phones. Gasps echoed in the lobby. For once they seemed like a bunch of college students instead of competitors in a Hunger Games match. Maybe more dramatic than that. One of the guys crumpled to his knees, face to the floor.
The door opened again and Andrew strode out, a stack of books in his arms, a laptop bag over his shoulder. At the corkboard, he pulled things down, indifferent to the crowd around him.
Tallulah said nothing, her eyes fixed on her screen.
The suspense was killing me. “What is it? Tallulah, what does it say?”
“I—I don’t know,” she whispered.
Her tone was too lifeless. It went beyond simple confusion, she stuttered every word.
I moved forward. “What do you mean?”
“I…I don’t understand,” Tallulah glanced at me, her face blank. “I’m not on the list.”
The students congratulating each other on their feedback, Max’s annoying questions, the athletes continuing to stroll inside, all of it dimmed. My world narrowed to Tallulah. Her lower lip wobbled. Hurt played across her face, slicing me deeper than anything Max could’ve said.
I shoved myself out of the chair so hard, it wobbled on the floor. Where was Andrew? He was tearing down maintenance reminders. I strode up to him, getting into his space, my arm thumping against the board above him.
“Tallulah’s name isn’t on the list,” I told him, my tone flat.
His hand hovered over the next paper before he tore that down too. With a shrug, he kept his focus on the corkboard. “Because she didn’t submit her paper.”
What the fuck was he talking about?
Tallulah’s voice was unsteady from her chair. “Wh—what?”
“You missed the submission,” Andrew said, so indifferent, it made my hands curl into fists. “Tomasini was very surprised, I’d talked very highly of you.”
I refused to let this go. I’d push him until he realized he made a mistake and fucking apologized to her. I knocked my knuckles against the corkboard. “Tallulah didn’t miss it. She turned it in early.”
He frowned. He clearly didn’t believe me.
“Did you hear me? She turned it in early.”
“I didn’t receive a paper.”
“You dropped it! Maybe you left it in your office!” I was bordering on shouting, furious that he could do this to her. “Pull up the cameras!”
“Why would we have cameras in the copy room?” he asked, mystified.
“So you could see that Tallulah—someone probably stole it!” He tried to move away and I stopped him. He wasn’t going anywhere. “You didn’t think it was weird that the one girl who’s had her shit together this whole summer didn’t turn in her paper?!”
Andrew was nonplussed. “I was under the impression that Tallulah’s anxiety got the better of her.”
“Her anxiety?!”
He glanced around me, cutting me out of the conversation. “Tallulah, you’re still welcome to submit for the profile.”
“She has a copy of her project on her laptop!” I snapped. “She can submit it today!”
“That’s out of the question. You especially, Nicholas, should know that Tomasini would never allow it,” he told me, a subtle message under his words.
The sheer stupidity of the situation baffled me. I wanted to grab him by the shirt collar and shake him. The fact that they could do this to her was more than I could stand. I was so fucking angry. I wanted to punch that motherfucker in the face—and then I wanted to punch Tomasini once and for all.
“Nick?” Tallulah choked out.
My eyes slid to her and I froze.
The fury evaporated inside of me. Tallulah’s dark eyes were glassy, welling up with tears. Her hands were shaking so bad. Max was trying to console her, but it was like she didn’t hear him. Her tearful gaze was on me.
Something cracked in my chest.
Yelling at Andrew, forcing an apology out of him, wouldn’t make this right, because Tallulah wouldn’t be okay with it. Me punching Andrew would only make me happy. That wasn’t what Tallulah needed. I walked around the coffee table, wrapping a careful arm around Tallulah’s waist, pulling her to me.