“Goodnight,” I say, leaving him behind on the terrace, intent on returning inside and heading straight up to my room.
Before I get the chance, I’m intercepted by Nash holding two drinks.
He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are dark and searching, the levity of our moment before gone.
“That looked intense,” Nash says, nodding toward the terrace doors I’ve just slipped through. “You okay?”
I quickly down the entire drink before sucking a sharp breath through my teeth.
“Yeah. Just had enough of tonight.”
I’m moving toward the elevator before he can even think about responding
Chapter 33
Ispend a long time after the gala just sitting on the bed, still in my dress. My feet ache. My hair is still crisp with hairspray.
I know I should change or shower, but I let the silence settle around me like a weighted blanket. The only sound is the distant rumble of elevator machinery.
I get up and peel off my heels. The dress is a nightmare to get out of. When it finally pools at my ankles, I step out of the puddle of fabric.
I sift through the closet for the hotel’s bathrobe, then wrap myself in it, too tired to care that it’s too big.
I open the minibar and take the first tiny bottle I can find. I crack it and knock back half, ignoring the burn.
There’s a knock at the door. I ignore it, convinced it’s just room service, or a lost drunk, but the knock comes again, harder this time.
I shuffle to the peephole, squint, and can only see a tuxedoed shoulder. I can’t tell if it’s Nash or James, so I open the door an inch, chain still on.
It’s both of them.
Nash is a mess, jacket off, hair wild, tie completely removed now. James stands next to him, perfect as ever, hands in his pockets, gaze fixed on me. Neither of them speaks.
“What are you both doing here? Wait. How did you even know what room I’m in?”
Nash snorts, and it cracks the tension just enough to let air back into the hallway. “Front desk didn’t take much convincing to give us the room number. We told them it was an emergency. We need to talk,” he says.
James nods. “All of us.”
I leave the chain on, considering. Then, with a sigh, I close the door, slide the chain off, and open it wide.
“Fine. But if you’re going to fight, please do it in the hallway. I’m not paying for any damages in here.”
Nash takes the invitation, striding in first. James follows, moving slower, more controlled.
I stand at the foot of the bed. Nash paces, hands on hips. James sits at the end of the bed, elbows on knees.
“Alright,” I say, “which of you wants to start?”
Nash looks at me, then at James.
“Me, I guess.” He takes a deep breath, then blurts, “I know you’re not over him. And I get it, he’s—” He gestures at James. “—whatever the fuck he is. But I want you, Avery. I want to be with you.”
James’s jaw ticks, but he lets Nash finish.
Nash keeps going. “I know I was a dick after I found out about him. I screwed up, I got jealous, but I don’t want to walk away. Not unless you tell me to. So if you want him, or if you want me, or even if you want neither, just…tell me. Please.”
The vulnerability in his voice lands like a blow. I want to reach for him, but James’s voice cuts in, low and steady.
