At this point, it’s clear that I’m more than a little tipsy.
“What’s going on, Melon Man?”
Oops—did I say that last part out loud?
“Melon…man?” He mimics my stance, but his is ironic, and the corner of his mouth curves upward ever so slightly at the reveal of my secret nickname for him.
“Nolan,” I correct myself. “What’s going on,Nolan?”
“What do you mean?”
There’s a flash of something pained in his eyes, and I waggle a finger at his face. “There! You just had this, this…expression. And you keep acting strange.”
“Define ‘strange.’”
“Well, you’re not smiling,” I explain, exasperated. I wasn’t expecting to have to justify the odd vibe I’ve been getting from him; it’s making me second-guess myself.
But the whiskey is also telling that thought to fuckrightoff.
“You’re acting…cool.”
“Thank you?” Both his brows furrow, and the thought crosses my mind that I’m probably looking less cute-drunk and more conspiratorial-drunk than I should if I want to maintain an air of normalcy. Meanwhile, Nolan seems completely sober.
“No, notthatkind of cool. You know what I mean—aloof, indifferent. You didn’t even laugh at my joke to Freddie when we were leaving.” I can see the sparkle in his eyes again. It’s there, even if it feels distant.
“The one about calling a ship a boat?”
“Yes!”
“I mean, it wasn’t the funniest thing I’ve heard you say, but?—”
“Ugh, fine, never mind.” I throw my hands in the air, not sure how to proceed from here. I thought if I was direct, he’d have no other choice than to come out and talk to me about what’s on his mind. It doesn’t feel that complicated, especially for someone who wears their heart on their sleeve. Maybe everything reallyisfine, and I’ve finally cracked. The lack of sleep, having to be around Molly all the time, and just a general lack of fulfillment in my life have probably just sent me over the edge.
Oh, God.
“Chloe,” Nolan says, taking a half-step toward me, “I’m…”
I know his next word is going to be “fine,” based on his placating tone and guarded features. He’s closing himself off for some reason. And here I am pushing him to talk.
Shit, I’ve really made a mess of this night.
But before he finishes his sentence, he pauses, biting his lower lip thoughtfully, brows knit in frustration, or despair—I can’t tell.
“No, you’re right,” he finally concedes, and my body relaxes as a sigh escapes my parted lips. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you’re right. I’m not good at sorting out my feelings in the moment, and I get all in my head about things sometimes. I messed up tonight, and it’s all I’ve been able to think about.”
I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. My brain has clocked out for the day, and Nolan’s statement makes zero sense to me.
“Youmessed up? When?” I ask, genuinely confused.
He scrubs a hand along his jaw to the back of his neck, where it comes to a rest as he sighs.
“It was so stupid. The camera thing. I made this whole big deal about you bringing your camera, because I felt like you were really in your element when you filmed me in the kitchens, and I wanted to give you another opportunity to film something not for the show, but for yourself. You’ve mentioned a few times, in our texts, how much you’re not enjoying yourself. I just wanted to do something that might inspire you a little bit… But then you explained that you didn’t want to carry your camera around because it was too painful, and I just felt like this huge asshole.”
I’m stunned. “That’swhat you were upset about?”
“I wasn’t upset—not at you. I was angry with myself, for not taking what you might want into consideration when I made plans for tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this,” he admits, as he gestures between the two of us, and I soften. “Sometimes I forget that I have to let peoplein on my plans before I make them. Not everything has to be a grand gesture or a surprise.”
“Oh, Nolan,” I step closer to him, and he meets me halfway as I wrap my arms around his waist. His hands come to rest around my shoulders. I mumble into his chest, “But I like your surprises,” and I feel, rather than hear, him chuckle.
