Natalie’s fingers tremble in mine, but her voice holds. “I care now.”
That is when I sit beside her.
A server approaches, eyes bouncing between us.
“Coffee for her,” I say. “Cream, two sugars. Eggs, toast, fruit.” I look at Lydia and Wesley. “And find these two another table.”
Natalie turns toward me, blinking.
Lydia’s mouth opens. “You can’t make us leave.”
I look at her. “Can’t I?”
Wesley makes a sound under his breath.
My gaze moves to him. “Still here?”
Lydia rises, color high. “Come on, Wesley.”
He hesitates, looking at Natalie like he expects her to stop him. She does not, and that is the best thing I have seen all morning.
They leave.
Natalie exhales like she has been holding the air in her chest since before I entered the room.
I lift her hand and kiss her knuckles. “You handled that.”
Her eyes are too bright. “I thought I might throw up.”
“You didn’t.”
“Heroic of me.”
“Very.” I lean in and kiss the corner of her mouth. “That’s my girl.”
Her breath catches.
The words hit both of us.
I do not take them back.
Chapter 10
Natalie
Friday morning waits outside the suite like a beautifully catered threat.
I know this because I have been awake for twenty minutes, lying very still in the circle of Jordan’s arm while the rehearsal dinner creeps closer by the second. The curtains are half-open, pale mountain light spilling across the room, and Jordan is warm behind me, his breath steady against the back of my neck.
Nothing happened last night, which feels like a ridiculous thing to say when I am naked in his bed and sore in places that make walking a negotiation, but by the new standards of my life, it is true. He fed me dinner in the suite, held me through half a movie, and slept with one hand spread over my stomach like he was keeping me anchored there.
There had been no lessons, no devastating demonstrations, only Jordan holding me all night.
Somehow, that was worse.
His arm tightens around my waist. “You’re awake.”
“No,” I whisper. “I am a decorative pillow with anxiety.”
