Page 155 of Tessa and Nash

Fiancée.

A costume we’re all pretending fits.

I glance toward Tessa again. “Over there.”

Boone’s gaze follows mine, then returns. “You two have been weird all night.”

I scoff. “We’re always weird.”

“You keep saying that, but you know what I mean.”

Yeah.

I do.

I take another sip to buy time. “I’m fine.”

Boone’s eyes narrow. “Nash.”

My stomach tightens. “What?”

“If something’s wrong, stop trying to carry it alone.”

That lands too close.

Because the truth is, I am carrying it alone: the land, the stalling, the surveys, the way the council’s eyes went cold.

And then there’s Tessa.

The worst part is, she’s the only one I want to talk to about any of it.

Which makes no sense, because she’s the one person I shouldn’t want.

Boone’s gaze holds mine. “You hear me?”

I nod too fast. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t move.

I force a laugh. “Boone, I’m twenty-three, not thirteen. I can handle my own feelings.”

Boone’s mouth twitches. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“What are you worried about?”

Boone’s eyes flick toward Tessa again, then back. “That you’re about to do something stupid.”

I snort. “You mean like ruining things with my fiancée?”

Boone’s expression hardens. “Yeah.”

My throat goes dry.

He doesn’t know. Not the full scope. The journal, Juniper House, the line I’m standing on that might not even be mine.

But he knows something.

And suddenly I can’t breathe in this barn full of warmth and eyes and noise.