“Whatever. Answer.”
He leans in. “I haven’t.Yet.”
The mistletoe spins again.
This time, it points at him.
“Truth,” I say quickly. “What’s your biggest regret?”
That wipes the grin from his face. For a second, I think he won’t answer.
Then, softly: “Not kissing you the second you walked into this cabin.”
The air changes.
It’s heavier now. Denser. Like we’ve wandered into forbidden territory with no map out.
He spins again.
It points at me.
Nash raises one eyebrow. “Your turn. Truth?”
I nod.
“Do you want me?”
My throat tightens.
I should lie.
But there’s firelight and stormlight and Nash Hollis staring at me like he wants to wreck me in every beautiful, bone-deep way.
“Yes.”
He doesn’t gloat.
Doesn’t smirk.
Just stares like I’ve handed him a secret he’ll protect with his life.
The mistletoe spins.
Again. Me.
He leans in, voice husky. “Truth?”
I nod.
“What happens when the cameras come back?”
I hesitate.
He waits.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
The game stops.
