Don’t forget, come straight here.Everything you need is at the penthouse.
He’d be relentless in reminding me about this event.
New Year’s Gala is important.Team event.Sponsors.Box holders.Management.I need you there, Tess.
I promised I’d go, and I hate breaking promises.But right now, all I want is a shower hot enough to strip a layer of arena dust off my skin and then to pass out on my couch in one of Nate’s hoodies.I drive to his building instead.
The elevator ride feels longer than my entire day.My head swims when the floor shifts, and I have to blink a few times before the doors open onto his hallway.
His place is dim except for the soft glow in the kitchen.Someone’s left a garment bag hanging off one of the stools, sleek and black.There’s a white shopping bag beside it with a logo that probably costs more than my entire closet.
A sticky note is slapped on the garment bag in his messy scrawl.
For tonight.You’re going to steal the whole damn show.
There’s a flutter in my chest despite the ache in my bones.He thought about tonight.He thought about me.Thatmatters.I unzip the garment bag and pull the dress out.
It’s… a lot.
Shiny, champagne gold fabric that catches the light like it’s trying to seduce it, layered with draped bead, with thin straps, a deep V and a low back that would require some kind of engineering miracle bra, with a hemline that says, “Hope you like your thighs, because everyone else will.”
I hold it up, and my first thought is:
This isn’t me.This is someone else.Someone glossy and polished and born for flashbulbs.Someone who looks good in photos they don’t know are being taken.Someone like Brielle.
I hate that my brain goes there.I hate that I am tired enough for it to stick.
I set the dress down and press my fingers to my temples.Another wave of dizziness creeps in, and I ride it out with slow, even breaths.
Maybe I am coming down with something.
I grab my phone and call Nate.He answers on the third ring, noise crashing behind his voice, music, clinking glasses, the rising hum of a party already in full swing.
“Tessa,” he says, and I can hear his smile.“Where are you?”
“At your place.I just got here.”I sink onto the couch, staring at the dress as if it might bite.“How bad would it be if I said I can’t come tonight?”
There’s a pause.“What?”
“I’ve been on my feet all day.It’s been nonstop.I feel like I got run over by a herd of horses...I’m just… tired, Nate.Dizzy.I don’t feel like myself.I...”
“Tessa.”The way he says my name is sharper than I expect.“You promised.”
Guilt hits like a physical thing.“I know.I’m not trying to bail.I just… I don’t think I’m up for small talk and photos and...”
“Seriously...This isn’t just small talk and pictures,” he cuts in.The noise behind him swells; I can picture him half turned away from a cluster of people, hand over his ear.“It’s the franchise.Sponsors.My whole management team.They expect us here.They expect you.I told them you would come.Tessa...you said you would.Please don’t leave me standing here alone.”
The words do exactly what he wanted.“Okay,” I say quietly.“I didn’t realize it was that serious.”
He exhales, like he’s trying to reel it back.“I didn’t mean it like that.I just...this night matters for my career.For the team.For how they see us.I need you with me.Ineedyou, Tessa.I miss you.”
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose.“You need me?”
“Always,” he says, softer now.“I’m hanging on by a thread over here.I just need to look across the room and see you.We’ll dance.I’ll sneak you out early.I promise.Just… don’t bail on me, okay?”
My chest tightens.He sounds frayed.Overstretched.Andhe is my person.Even if I’m exhausted, even if the thought of that dress makes me want to crawl out of my own skin, I love him.
“I’ll be there,” I say.“But Nate… if I say I need to leave, I need you to listen, okay?”
