Even so, his expression haunts me as I turn into the restroom that’s tucked in the hall between the dining and living rooms. It’s still there, taunting me as I close the door behind me and press my ear against the wood. If I hold my breath, I can make out a few words.
“…the fuck, Van? Why here?”
“I-I…I don’t know, Reed. I just needed to get away. I needed a fresh start. I needed…”
I can’t hear the rest, Lawson’s loud laugh from the other room covering up whatever she’s saying. He quiets, and I focus back in.
“…mad?”
Hutch sighs. “I’m not mad. I’m just…fucking confused. You don’t even… We don’t even… I…”
Then there’s silence from everywhere in the house. I’m not even out there, and I can tell it’s awkward. I wish I could be out there, to see her face during all this, to gauge how she’s feeling. And to maybe protect her from Hutch, who clearly doesn’t like her.
I turn on the faucet and pretend to wash my hands, making my getaway before anyone can discover I came in here to eavesdrop. I flick the light off, stepping into the hallway—and right into someone.
“Shit, sorry,” I say, reaching out to steady them.
Soft skin. Wildflowers. Lavender.
Nessa.
Her green eyes collide with mine, and I’m breathless again.
“Sorry,” she says softly, stepping back and out of my grasp, leaving me feeling like I’m reaching for a ghost.
It’s fitting, really, but I try not to think about that. I’m too focused on how she’s looking at me like she first did in New York—like a complete stranger.
Actually, no. That wouldn’t be true. She never looked at me like that, not even then. But now…
“I was just…” She points to the door behind me, like she can’t wait for me to be gone and out of her way.
I nod, swallowing down the realization that she really doesn’t remember me.
“Right. Sure. My bad.”
She gives me a polite smile, one so small it’s barely noticeable. But I notice it. I notice everything about her. Her tired eyes. How her hair is just a little out of place, like she’s been running her hands through it repeatedly. How scratchy her voice is, as if she hasn’t slept in days. I notice it all. I did then, and I do now.
I just fucking wish she’d notice me too.
“Oh, and hey?”
She turns, looking back at me. She rolls her tongue over her lips, the same ones that tasted like cherry. “Yes?”
“Welcome to Washington…Nessa.”
A flinch. A sharp inhale.
I know all I need to—she remembers, and fuck if that doesn’t spark the tiniest flame of hope. Hope for what? I don’t know. She’s still Hutch’s stepsister. She’s still his family. She’s still so fucking forbidden it’s not even funny.
But that flame flickers anyway…and I don’t dare make a move to extinguish it.
CHAPTER 4
VANESSA
I sag against the door as it clicks shut behind me.
I’m exhausted, and I don’t just mean a little. No, it’s that grogginess you get after you stay up too late until the sun is cresting the horizon. When you’re so sleepy you get the chills. When you’re so tired you could fall asleep mid-conversation and have no regrets. That’s what I feel like right now, and my cross-country trip is only part of the reason.
