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“Fuck no.” I lean up and touch my lips lightly to his, but he follows me back down, kissing me deeply with passion and reverence. His hand snakes into the hair at the nape of my neck, and I arch up under him, earning a low rumble in his chest. “I can’t fuck you here,” he groans, and I want to whimper.
“I know.” It’s said against his lips as he kisses me again, tugging on my hair just slightly so I gasp into his mouth.
“Am I interrupting?” Ezra’s voice makes me jump, and when I spin my face to the side, I see him grinning widely, seeming quite happy with the fact he is. His unabashed smile brings mine out too. “Ready?”
Sawyer peels himself off me, standing and readjusting himself before holding his hand out so he can help me up. Then Ezra is there, pulling me into his arms.
“Hey,” he says into my hair. “Hungry?”
“Yeah. Even if my technique was shit today, grappling always builds my appetite.”
“Grappling?” Ezra asks, but when I look at him, his eyes are narrowed on Sawyer.
“It’s fine,” he shoots back impatiently.
I frown at them both. “What’s fine?”
They communicate something between them without words, which I’mnota fan of, before Ezra looks back at me.
“Nothing. Let’s get you some food.”
My stomach rumbles, and I realize quite how hungry I am, so I let it drop for the sake of getting some pancakes faster.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nico
I’m delivering a cup of coffee to the table over the other side of the shop when Harlow comes back in for the second half of her split shift. I see her straight away because I’ve been waiting for her since the second she left this morning. I’m not sure what’s worse right now—missing her, or having to pretend I don’t. She smiles at Celeste, seeming lighter than she did when she left, as she makes her way to the counter. I come up behind her as she walks through to the back. She lets the door go but jumps when I stop it from closing with a soft thud, not having noticed I was there.
“Sorry, didn’t mean—” To make her jump, I wasn’t sneaking up on her. But the words die in my throat when she spins and I notice the dampness of her eyes, the fear on her face, and the tension in her body as her hands come up to defend herself. “Are you okay?” She doesn’t answer straight away, her eyes unfocused. “Harlow?”
“I’m fine.” She coughs, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling as she averts her eyes from me, but her hands are shaking as she lowers them back to her side.
“Harlow—”
“I said I’m fine, Nico!” She’s putting a stern voice on, but there’s a wobble underneath, and my patience wears thin. I want her to open up to me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, even though I know it’s futile.
“You’re clearly not! Talk to me.”
“Why? So you can saycool story, see you later, like last time?” My jaw tenses, knowing that’s not exactly what happened when she told me about The Games, but it may as well have been.
“That’s not fair.”
“Whatever,” she says dismissively. “I don’t need your pity, Nico. I’m not some poor little terrified girl.” I get the feeling she’s telling herself more than me, but I reply anyway.
“I know you’re not.” She blinks up at me, her eyes pleading for something.
“So who am I?”
She looks as if she’s actually waiting for me to answer, like she needs to know how I see her, and I’m so close to spilling my whole fucking soul to her.You’re strong, brave, independent, funny, cute...But not close enough. She smiles sadly at my silence, ties her apron, and pushes past me to go out to the front.
I pace back and forth for ten minutes. One moment, I’m decided on going to fetch her and telling her everything, the next, I’ve talked myself out of it, round and round in circles until it feels like my head might explode. I know I need to explain. I know I should tell her what happened that night, for her sanity. But how? It’s only a matter of time before she hates me for good, and I can’t bring myself to shorten that time any more than it already is. My father gave me forty-eight hours, and that’s declining by the minute.
I scrunch my apron up and decide to use the back entrance, like a coward—leave while I’m in the right mind to do it. With my hand on the back door, the other one swings open before I’m clear.
“You don’t need to be a prick about it and sneak out,” Harlow says from behind me with hurt in her voice, and it breaks me. Suddenly, I’m furious. At myself, at my father, at her.
“Why couldn’t you leave the fucking thing alone?” I ask as I turn to face her, confusion crossing her face. She may have no idea why I’m suddenly so angry or what about, but that doesn’t stop me. “Why couldn’t you live your perfect little life safe? Why do you have to prod around in shit you don’t understand?” I’m expecting her to get angry back, to shout at me and help me break this thing between us for good. I’m not expecting her eyes to fill with tears for the second time today, breaking meagain. “Fuck,” I breathe, scooping her up into my arms.
