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When I had finally made it back to the Compound midmorning, Beckett had yanked me into the infirmary to give me a quick check-up and make sure I wasn’t harboring any repercussions from the partial transformation. I’d then had to dive right into work and lead an archery lesson with the trainees in the morning before spending the afternoon with Taylor and Lucas, talking to the wife of the most recent Elliot victim. She had been away on business when the body had been discovered and only just made it in to give a statement, her cheeks mottled red from most likely many days of crying. It had been a heartbreaking yet powerful moment, pushing me to fight my hardest in this case.
The sun was already setting by the time I was able to find this moment to talk to Nolan. Alone. My feet stopped, my hand reaching toward the door. I just had to do it, to get it over with.
Before I could convince myself otherwise, I knocked rapidly, my knuckles numb to the biting pain of rapping against the rough wooden door.
“Come on in!” Nolan called out.
I took one more deep breath before crossing the threshold, then stopping instantly.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my eyes widening. I knew what I was seeing, but a part of me just couldn’t believe it.
Nolan. In an apron covered in a multitude of aromatic sauces and juices, a knife poised in his hand. A whole chicken sat in a roasting pan on his stove, a colorful array of chopped vegetables sprinkled around it.
“Uh, cooking?” Nolan looked at me, a goofy half-grin teasing at the edges of his lips. “Is there another reason I would be holding a chef knife?”
I took a few steps closer to the kitchen counter he was working behind. “Improvised weapon?”
“And who exactly am I looking to stab in my own house?” His hands moved quickly as he sliced an onion, the half- circles cut so thinly, you could see through them.
“I feel like I’ve brought you to the brink of wanting to stab me a time or two.” I tried to make light of the situation, though my chest constricted. I wasn’t here to joke around or pretend. I was here to see if I could even do this whole trust thing with him. I needed to see if he even deserved it.
“You’re not wrong,” he said, dropping the last of the onions into the pan. “However, I spent a lot of money on this knife, and I wouldn’t risk dulling it just because it was convenient. I would just steal whatever weapon you had on you instead.”
“Poetic.” I crossed my arms, lingering by the round dining table a few feet away from the kitchen area.
He wiped the knife off gently before resting it on the cutting board, picking up the roasting pan and shoving it in the oven behind him. “Is there a specific reason you wanted to stop by?”
Here we go.
“Well, um, I wanted to…” I couldn’t believe I was struggling so hard to say such simple words. “Talk. About what happened. Yesterday.”
The muscles in his neck constricted, his throat quivering. “Oh, okay.”
My stomach churned. “Unless you don’t want to?”
“No, no! I do, I promise!” He braced his hands on the counter. “I’m just surprised you came by so soon.”
I chuckled. “I know, I just…knew it was the right thing to do. But if you’re too busy cooking…”
He wiped his hands on a towel before tossing it back on the counter and removing his stained apron from his waist. “The meat needs to roast for a bit in the oven anyways.”
He crossed the room, meeting me in the open dining area before pulling a chair out, gesturing for me to take a seat. I swallowed down sarcastic words at the gentlemanly gesture and sat. He took the seat next to me, angling so we faced each other, our knees barely grazing. A shock rippled up my spine at the contact, reminding me of what had happened yesterday.
“What would you like to talk about?” His brows curved inward.
“Well, first, I wanted to say thank you.” A blush crept up my clavicle. Great. “I didn’t realize how much…anger I had built up until you let me kind of take it out on you.”
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand across his jaw, lips pressed together tightly as if trying to conceal a laugh. “Well, you had taken it out on me emotionally over the past few weeks, I figured physically couldn’t hurt me that much more.”
My chin fell to my chest, a groan escaping my lips. “Oh, Goddess, Nolan…”
“Hey, I’m kidding,” His hand gripped my knee, shaking it slightly, his touch burning through my dark pants. “I’m sorry, I can tell you’re trying to be serious. I shouldn’t be making light of the situation.”
“No, it’s not that, I’m just so sorry for the way I’ve been treating you.” Shame washed over me, flushing heat from my cheeks to my toes. “You didn’t deserve any of that. I was just so bitter and angry and hurt by the High Faction, and you inadvertently represented that to me. I didn’t want to accept that you deserved this posting. Which you do. You were obviously meant to be an Alpha, and you’ve taken the whole situation you’ve found yourself in quite well. Not many people would have been able to handle our crazy and lasted.”
His teasing grin faded, relaxing into a genuine smile. “Thank you. That…that means a lot more than I expected it to.”
I let out a breath. Part one of the conversation was done. Now, the hard part. “About the, um, kiss.”
