I stare at what I’ve typed up. If he wanted me to console him, he would’ve stayed. Also… He might become more agitated if he realizes that I have no clue why he’s unhappy.
An engine roars outside before cutting off. I jump to my feet.Nicholas?
My heart races as relief rushes through me. He probably feels better after a drive and a little time away. We can have a calm discussion and work things out. I’ll start by apologizing, since I want him to know I never meant to make him feel bad, and—
The door opens, and a stranger walks in. I yelp, clutching my phone as a weapon against the intruder. Am I getting mugged inside Nicholas’s home? Why didn’t the household security go off?
“No need to look at me like I’m a serial killer,” the man says. “I’m Noah. Nicholas’s brother. I’m here to pick up some stuff for him.”
“Oh, thank God.” Now that he mentions it, there is a distinct family resemblance.
“Nicholas wanted Cody to handle it, but I figured I would so I could see you for myself.” His cool eyes rake over me. He couldn’t be more impersonal or assessing. It’s disquieting after the warmth I experienced with Nicholas’s sister-in-law. Noah’s gaze brushes over the wrist Jack grabbed, and his eyebrows pinch in disapproval. Why does it feel like he’s upset with me, rather than Jack?
Anxiety winds tightly around my chest. What did Nicholas say to him?
“You don’t look like a typical man-eater,” he says finally.
His judgmental tone cuts, but also stirs my anger. Who does he think he is to talk to me like this? Does he assume I’m with Nicholas to take advantage of him? I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind—
“I thought you might be, for hurting my kindest and most dependable brother.”
Hearing him speak of Nicholas in pain snuffs out my anger. Concern and guilt tug at me. Noah must’ve seen Nicholas after he walked out. I never wanted to make Nicholas suffer. “Is he okay?”
“Why do you care?” He doesn’t bother to look at me as he answers. He starts to climb the stairs.
I follow him. “Is he staying with you?”
“No.”
“Do you know where he’s staying?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me where? Or give me more than a one-word response?”
“No.”
What a jerk.I take a deep breath. Yelling at him in frustration isn’t going to get me any answers.
We reach the master bedroom. Noah obviously knows the layout of the mansion.
“Is he okay?” I try again, hoping he’ll at least give me a yes-or-no answer like he did earlier.
His eyes slide in my direction, sharp as razor blades. “Again, why do you care?”
“I just want to know if he’sokay! I’mworriedabout him. I feel awful about the way he left.”
Noah steps into the bedroom, then to the walk-in closet. If he has anything to say about my stuff hanging in there, he keeps it to himself as he pulls out a carry-on suitcase and lays it on a luggage rack. “Do you pity him?”
I recoil. “No.”
“You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure! I don’t pity him. How could I?” Nicholas is too brilliant and wonderful. He’s like the shining sun, and nobody pities the sun.
“Interesting response coming from a woman who thinks she’s too good for him.” He tosses a few suits and shirts into the suitcase.
“What?I never said that.”
