Bob, with sweat dripping down his head, faces me. “Hey, Cass.” He smiles. “All’s good here. How have you been? Man, the last time I saw you, you were a skinny 16-year-old trying to finish assignments and pass class.”
Get your hands off of Nia, I want to say, but don’t. What I instead do is chuckle, if only to indulge him. “Yup, that was me,” I say lightly. “But things have changed now, haven’t they?” I slide my hands into the pockets of my jeans and give him a slight shrug. “Anyway. How’s your stomach these days? I was just talking to your dad a few minutes ago, and he said you’ve been having digestion issues lately.” Being cornered by Davis just to be told about his son’s…problems wasn’t exactly on the list of things I wanted to hear in my lifetime, but eh, how could I stop a father from vividly describing his son’s bowel issues to me?
Bob finally lets go of Nia and turns to me. “Yeah, Dad’s pretty worried. I have problems after I eat food, be it any meal. It doesn’t really go down well, you know? Acidity, nausea, etc. Thanks for asking, man.”
“Yeah, no worries.”
Bob and I smile at each other for a painfully long moment, and I feel Nia shifting on her feet, clearly uncomfortable with the situation she’s found herself stuck in.
Some new pop song blasts through the speakers, which makes the kids jump and scream in excitement.
“So, uh…” I clear my throat. “Can I borrow Nia for a while?” I ask Bob. “There’s something I need to talk to her about.”
Bob looks between her and I, then lifts a shoulder. “Sure, of course.” He steps back. “Uh, hey, I would really appreciate if you could help me pick some easy exercises that I can do in order to fix my…”
“Metabolism issue?” I provide.
Bob looks sheepish as he nods. “Yeah, that. I’ll pay a fee for it.”
I wave a hand at him. “Not necessary. I’ll email you my self-designed beginner’s workout routineandan easy diet regime tomorrow. Follow them for three months with no skips, and then email me about your progress so that I can upgrade both plans accordingly.”
He seems genuinely grateful. “Thanks, man.”
I shake my head. “Don’t mention it.”
What? I’m not a bad guy, okay? The things Bob is facing are detrimental to his health, and I really want to help him in any way I can.
Him and I exchange email addresses, before he turns around and faces Nia again. “Holler if you need me,” he tells her quietly, but I hear it anyway.
Seriously?Holler if you need me?That’s what he says right after I agree to help him with his…unhealthy stomach?
Fan-fucking-tastic.
I watch as Bob walks over to the drink table, sits in the chair that’s behind it, and gets busy on his phone.
A true savior, indeed.
“How’s your stomach?Really? That’s the best you’ve got?” Nia says, then crosses her arms over her chest.
I look down at her. Tiny flakes of snow have settled on her hair and lashes, and the blush on her cheeks has now deepened to a lovely shade of red.
“What, you didn’t think I was being on-brand and shit?” I ask.
She tilts her head a little, and in that exact instant, moonlight hits her side profile, making her appear even more beautiful than she already is.
She scoffs. “So, what did you wanna talk about, then?”
I take a step towards her, and smirk when she doesn’t step back. Her chest rises and falls faster than normal, and her lips part as she keeps looking up at me with her all-seeing eyes.
“You know exactly what I wanna talk about,” I tell her, then hold onto her waist before pulling her to me. “But the real question is: areyouready to talk about it?” The smell of her honey-sweet perfume hits me with full force, giving me a sense of both nostalgia and longing.
Time is not on my side when it comes to her and I. My team wrapped up filming the other day, and I can only pretend to want to stay in Adenbrooke for so long before my lawyers decide to come here and drag my ass back to New York. They’re currently hard at work finding me a new, mentally stable manager. It’s tough, obviously, but not impossible.
Ihaveto settle things here; I have to know where Nia and I stand.
Ineedto know what she wants, and what is to become of us.
She doesn’t flinch or move away from my touch, and instead, gently presses her palms to my chest. “Cass…” She blinks, then releases a soft puff of air as she exhales.
