The praise should feel great—after all, I’ve achieved my goal—but I’m not feeling it.
An hour later, the party is in full swing and I’m milling around the lobby sipping a Raspberry Kiss. My lips are sticky from the red sugar on the rim of the glass, but it’s so dang good I don’t even care. Jonathan and Rebecca popped over to congratulate me on a job well done, but I’ve lost track of them in the thick crowd. Knowing Jonathan, he probably dragged Rebecca off to exchange gossip with his cohorts from the second floor.
I scan the lobby, but there’s still no sign of Nick. I should be glad. I’m not ready to face him yet, but I can’t deny his absence hurts. Doesn’t he want to see the final result? Isn’t he the least bit curious about how the social turned out?
We worked so hard. He should be here to enjoy the fruits of his labor, not to mention downtime with the rest of the staff.
I spot Miles weaving his way through the crowd, making a beeline right for me, and I force a smile.
“There you are.” He heaves an exasperated sigh and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Here I am.” I give him a little finger wave, but he doesn’t so much as crack a smile. “What’s up?”
Whatever it is, it must be serious because when has Miles ever not smiled?
“I have a problem, and I need your help.” He looks around and a sheepish grin transforms his face from harried to mildly embarrassed. “Right now.”
So much for having the afternoon off.
Chapter Forty-Two
Nick
I’ve lost my mind. That’s the only rational explanation for what I’m about to do.
Serves you right for acting like a damn fool.
A jackass, really.
Scarlett was right. Miles, too. Not that I’d ever tell him. It’s bad enough he’s going to be a witness to this spectacle.
He’s not the only one.
The Valentine’s social is in full swing, and it looks like every Triada employee on campus came out to celebrate. I take my position behind the stage, the black backdrop hiding me from view as the band covers what I think is a Taylor Swift song. The lead singer is crooning about Romeo and Juliet, which only serves to remind me what a terrible idea this is.
Fuck. What if someone posts it on social media? That shit’s forever.
Doesn’t matter.
It’s a risk I have to take if I want to fix things with Scarlett. To prove to her I’m serious, and that I want to change. To have any shot at a second chance after I threw her out of my apartment like a complete and total prick.
Hartless.
No. I don’t want to be that man. Not anymore. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life isolated, keeping everyone at arm’s length.
Especially the woman I love.
Because no matter what I’ve tried to tell myself, no matter how many times I’ve sworn off relationships, I’ve fallen for Scarlett. Hell, she’s the one I never saw coming.
Maybe that’s why I feel so unprepared. It’s no secret I’m ill-equipped for romance. It’s not in my DNA.
I like facts. Figures.Logic.
Perhaps that’s why I was so enamored with Scarlett from the start. Her beauty isn’t the flashy kind lauded in books and films. It’s subtle, like a puzzle where no two pieces are the same. Or a riddle just waiting to be solved. It’s easily missed if you’re not paying attention.
But I’m paying attention now.
Scarlett is multifaceted—sweet and snarky, practical and passionate, whip-smart but naive—and you have to put all the pieces together to fully appreciate the incredible woman, who, despite her many contradictions, has a strength of spirit I’ve rarely encountered.
