“Hey,” he says, brown eyes full of concern.
I want to believe him. I do. But even now, even with his hands gentle and his voice fierce, my stomach twists into knots. I’m the fun. The joke. The problem. The one-night story that doesn’t fit anywhere in the morning. People like me don’t get this kind of defense. Don’t get people who say she’s mine like it’s a promise and not a mistake.
And even if Nico thinks he means it, he doesn’t know the full inventory of my chaos. The way I sabotage things, break them.
Maybe he will. Maybe it’s only a matter of time.
But then?—
He’s still looking at me like he sees all of that. And he’s not blinking.
“I meant it,” he says again, thumb brushing under my jaw. “All of it. In real life, in real time, outside of this damn car and this road trip.”
My throat is so tight I can barely swallow. “Why?”
Nico gives the softest huff of breath. It’s not a laugh exactly—it’s more like a knowing sound. His forehead presses against mine.
“I see all of it,” he murmurs. “All of you. And I’m dying, wishing, hoping, praying—that I’m gonna be the lucky motherfucker who gets all of it for himself.”
My eyes sting.
And for a split second—just one—I believe him.
Before my phone starts ringing on my seat.
And it’s my sister.
“Annie. What’s happening?” she asks the second I pick up.
I blow out a breath, pacewayaway from the car. Try really hard to keep my shit together and not burst into tears.
Because of course she’s calling me about this. The day before her wedding weekend, and I’ve become A Problem Again. She should be finalizing flower arrangements or getting her nails done, not checking to see if her maid of honor is fucking something up. And I am. I did. God, what the hell is wrong with me?
“May,” I begin slowly. “I’m really, really sorry?—”
“What for?!”
I don’t know—everything?!For being me. For trying to have some fun, find some equilibrium and messing it up, anyway? I flounder for the right words. There aren’t any, so I go with the truth.
“For fucking Nico,” I blurt, ripping it out of my throat like it’ll hurt less that way. “But it’s not—May, it’s not just that, I swear. It’s not just fucking around. I—.”Too much.“I’m not being reckless for fun this time. It’s not a game.”
I’m rambling now, desperate to make her hear it, believe it. “I swear to you, on everything, on my life, I would never let this affect your wedding. I will disappear into the wallpaper if I have to, I will make myself invisible, I will not cause drama, I?—”
“Annie—” she interrupts.
“I’m sorry, May?—”
“Annie,stop.”
I stop pacing, scrub a hand down my face, and brace myself. Here it comes—I’ve upset her, I messed it all up again, I?—
“I wasn’t calling to yell at you,” May says. Her voice softens, threading in through the cracks of my shame, like she’s reaching through the phone and touching the side of my face. “I was calling to make sure you were okay.”
I blink. “What?”
“Annie,” it comes out as a sigh. “Tom just told me you had sex with Nico, and that youhatehim. I want to make sure you’reokay.”
I short-circuit.
