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“I feel…” I swallow whatever that is in my throat. I swallow really fucking hard. Then I decide to ignore whatever the hell has started in the last few minutes and focus on how I felt before that instead. “Empty. But not in a bad way. Not like I used to get, at the compound. This is just sort of… lightness? Like I can fucking breathe. And maybe sleep for a week.”
“Good.” He brushes my hair off my forehead. “You want to stay here awhile? Or want me to help you get to your room?”
Go, something screams in my head. Go fast and far until you figure out whatever the hell just happened.
“I should go,” I say, my voice cracking like it’s trying to give me away. Traitor. “I should try to get some sleep, maybe. Or find Matt.”
“Sleep,” he says with enough authority to send a shiver down my spine. “You know, I could use a few hours myself. You maybe wanna come lie with me in my bed again?”
“Okay,” I say like an absolute idiot. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Seventeen
Maison
The first time it happened, it caught me completely off guard. We were in the gym after his breakdown, him pliant in my arms, trusting me to hold his pieces together. He had shifted and then looked at me—really looked at me, in a way I’m not sure he’s ever looked at me before—and I… well, I looked back. And goddamn, how had I never paid attention to how fucking beautiful that man is? And kissable. Very, very kissable.
I told myself it was a fluke. I mean, I took him to bed just minutes later and we fell asleep only inches apart, yet I felt no urge to kiss him then. I had just felt safe and warm and sleepy. Not turned on in the least.
So, it was a fluke. It had to be.
But then later that night as we sat at dinner, everything calm and normal, the food amazing, Ace goofing off, Jake and Travis brooding about Carter and Casey being gone, Nolan laughed at something Bryce said. It was just a soft laugh, nothing crazy. I looked over at him to see his cheeks were flushed. Usually, my first thought would be I like seeing him happy or he looks healthy with some color in his cheeks. That time, however, my first thought was, I wonder if his cheeks would be the same color if I kissed him.
Followed closely by the second thought of, I wonder if he’d let me kiss him.
Followed immediately by the third thought of, fuck.
So, not a fluke.
I should have known it would happen. I’m an expert at ruining things, and whatever is developing with Nolan is just about the only good thing I have left. It was only a matter of time before I’d fuck it up.
I vow not to act on it. It can’t have the power to ruin everything if I never let it exist, right?
There’s a brief time where I think maybe I should put some distance between us to help me keep that vow, but it lasts about as long as it takes Nolan to run into me an hour later in the hall, blue eyes bright and cheeks flushed. “Do you want to go outside with me? It’s fucking gorgeous out and you still haven’t shown me your garden!”
I was helpless to say anything but yes.
If I wasn’t already fucked, seeing his fingertips dance along the delicate petals of my mom’s roses would have done me in.
Okay, so you can’t stay away, but that doesn’t mean you’ll kiss him.
You. Will. Not. Kiss. Him.
“We should spend more time together during the day, like we did with the garden,” he says that night, firelight dancing in his eyes, one of his legs overlapping mine since he’s turned to partially face me. I’ve been drawing little patterns on his bare ankle. I don’t know when it started. It wasn’t a conscious decision. But when I noticed my fingers moving on his skin and stopped, he frowned and gave his foot a little shake like he was trying to get my attention. He hummed in pleasure when I continued, so I haven’t stopped since.
“I know our deal is nights together,” he continues, his cheeks starting to turn pink in the soft glow of the firelight. “But—”
“Nolan,” I say with a soft laugh. “You don’t have to convince me. I’d love to spend more time with you.”
He ducks his head, mumbling about being cool before quickly changing the subject to the weekly menu—a topic that always ends in the closest thing we have to arguments. He wants to expand his cooking horizons, but there’s a pretty limited number of options our supplier is willing to bring when we get our shipments. Last week, I promised to ask Carter if he could bring food from his local grocery store, since he’s supposed to be coming back to the safehouse for group therapy sometimes. He had been happy to but warned that the grocery store is small and only carries the basics. I haven’t had the heart to break the news to Nolan quite yet.
Forty minutes later, I’m doing a secure web search for specialty stores on the route between Carter’s town to the safehouse—spoiler alert, there are none, we picked this very remote location for a fucking reason. Nolan gives me puppy dog eyes, bottom lip curled in a pout.
“Don’t,” I warn, my heart racing as I stare at that puffed lip. It’s slick with spit, shining in the firelight. I bet it’d fit perfectly between my lips. Between my teeth. Wrapped around my—I tear my gaze away, suddenly burning with shame.
“Mais?” Nolan asks, poking me in the arm when I don’t look at him. “What just happened?”
“Just had a moment.” I wave it off, then force a yawn. “I think I need some sleep. Let’s try to find fresh scallops tomorrow, okay? Maybe Ace can help.”
