“No, Alexa. I like you. Fuck knows why,” he added under his breath as I stiffened in his arms.
“Oh.” Oh? Couldn’t I come up with anything better than “oh”? “I don’t really know what to say.”
“There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”
Nolan began walking toward the house, and I hung on tighter, slightly dizzy as my world spun on its axis.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to make you lunch, and then we’re going to talk.”
“Or I could just get back on the helicopter?”
“No.”
Double fuck.
In the kitchen, Nolan deposited me onto a stool and headed for the refrigerator. The dog plunked herself onto an oversized cushion, no doubt pleased with herself for scaring me. Wasn’t that what German shepherds were bred to do? Scare people?
“You want water?” Nolan asked. “Juice?”
“How about vodka?”
“Don’t be a little heathen. You’re in wine country now.”
“Fine, then I’ll have wine.”
“Sure, with dinner.” He poured me a glass of club soda, another preference he’d remembered. “We should stay sober for this part.”
“Why are you being like this?”
“Like what?”
Confident. Assertive. Right now, he sounded more like Priest than Nolan.
“Pushy.”
“Because I’m this far”—he pinched his thumb and forefinger together—“from the end of my tether, and I don’t have time to play games. I already got distracted and lost one tank of wine. The destemmer broke at a critical time. I wasted an evening at a party where Marielle kept complaining that her corset was pinching. This morning, a nail went through my tyre, and I’m too tired to keep playing ‘what does Alexa want now?’” He pulled flatbreads, yoghurt, salad, and a tub of falafel out of the refrigerator. It was me who’d introduced him to the joys of Middle Eastern food. “Every other word that comes out of your mouth is a lie, and I’m getting whiplash from all the U-turns. Then I find out Chase is gay?” Nolan gave a hollow laugh. “Damn, Alexa.”
“Who told you?”
“Forget it. I’m not setting him up as your next target for petty revenge.”
“Him? So it was Brax, then.”
“Why would you lie about that? Why?”
I shrugged.
“No more bullshit.”
I didn’t much like the new, bossy Nolan, but at the same time, it was also weirdly…hot? Alarm bells began ringing. Okay, yes, I’d had a crush on him when I was a teenager, but that was because he was kind and gentle, not whatever this was.
“Fine. I don’t like Marielle, and I didn’t want the both of you to think I was a loser because I’m unlovable.”
“You shared a fucking bed with him.”
“So? He doesn’t snore, and why do you even care? You said you liked me, but you’re with Ms. Gullible-in-Ruffles, which is a big ol’ conflict of interest.”
