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His eyes show his anger, but he keeps his voice calm, no doubt an effort right now.
“You don’t know Nico.”
“Sounds like you don’t either,” I retort.
“I know him a hell of a lot better than you do, and a hell of a lot better than I knewyouwhen I told Harlow to give you a chance.”
“This isn’tachance,” I remind him. He had his chance when they worked together and studied together, and he blew it.
“No, it’s a second one, whichyouasked Harlow to giveme.”
“You hadn’t done anything wrong.”
“A second chance is a second chance,” he says emphatically. “Honestly, there aren’t many people who’d deserve one with Harlow, but I feel like he’s worth it. Even if it’s just to ease Harlow’s guilt.”
“Harlow is standing right here, in case you hadn’t noticed,” she says, and we both turn to look at her, a scowl across her features. “This relationship doesn’t work like this. You two don’t get to decide between you what you think is best and then tell me together like I’m a child.”
“That’s not—”
“Yes, it is.”
I take a deep breath and look to Sawyer, realizing it’s true. We were completely cutting her out of the conversation because we were winding each other up. We both reach out at the same time, but Sawyer gets to her first, pulling her against his chest as he wraps his arms around her.
“We’re sorry, Angel.”
“Sorry, Harlow. It won’t happen again.”
“Now what?” she asks with her cheek pressed to him, her eyes on me. “I’m supposed to side with one of you and piss the other one off?”
“Absolutely not,” I say with a shake of my head. “The decision is yours.”
Sawyer pulls back to look down at her, and she twists her head to see him. He shrugs. “It’s inevitable that we’ll disagree on things. We need to be able to discuss it and sometimes agree to disagree.”
“What if I’m letting one of you down?” she asks.
“Impossible.” She looks to me with worried eyes, and the anger drains out of me, not wanting her to think for a second that it’s aimed at her.
“You could never, gorgeous.” As much as I’d continue to convince Sawyer that Nico isn’t worth putting Harlow through this shit, I think she’s had enough of this conversation for one day. “Let’s go home and grab some food. You know Sawyer gets hangry.”
Her lips twist, and I think we’re good again. For now.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Harlow
I feel totally drained already, and we’re only a week into this thing. It’s not even the physical side of things. My brain feels like it has a million tabs open at the same time—mainly running through how The Games will work and how we’ll go back to our normal lives, but also thinking about Nico constantly. He’s got my head screwed up, and my conversation with Sawyer and Ezra about him a couple of days ago didn’t help anything, it only made it worse. Should I be approaching him? Waiting for him to come to me? Will he? Is this him now?
In fact, everything seems to make it worse. Every time he treats me like any other participant, but also any time he looks at me too long. Every time Clara and I sit next to each other in our ethics sessions, like the one I’ve just finished, I spend the whole time wanting to ask her about him. He doesn’t leave my head, and then it makes me feel guilty for not being present with the two amazing men I already have. Like, how much luck can one woman actually want?
I’m so in my head that I’m not paying attention as I go through the doorway, and I nearly smack into someone coming out the other way. It’s only their quick reflexes that save me, and his hands come around my biceps to stop me propelling forward into him. Speak of the devil. My skin burns from where he’s holding me upright. He keeps eye contact with me, and neither of us say anything until he clears his throat lightly and maneuvers me out of his way.
“Pay attention,” he grumbles, as his hands drop from my arms and his eyes from mine. He’s about to leave again, to walk straight past me, but I’m suddenly anxious to keep him here. Maybe I do need to reach out, and for some reason, that seems criticalnow.
“Are you working tomorrow?” I ask, and he stops, flicking his eyes back to me for only a second before looking past me, although he doesn’t move.
“No. I ended my notice.”
I should be used to his cold demeanor by now, but I don’t think I ever will be. I just don’t understand it. Is this the real Nico? But what would have been the point of his other persona at work? It certainly wasn’t to get in my pants. I was a babbling mess in front of him for years, and he never made a move. He had no idea about my thoughts on The Games, so it couldn’t have been to lure me into that either. Not that I’m the ideal candidate, but he ended up forcing me anyway—it’s not like he needed the lead-up.
