“I should probably switch places,” Nina murmured, looking away.“Trade spots with one of theother girls.”
Jasper studied her for a moment. His expression softened. His gaze warmed.
“Come on,” he said quietly.“You’re not planning to hide from her forever, are you?”
For some reason, those simple words hit painfully deep.
His words hit exactly where they shouldn’t have. Nina felt something tighten painfully inside her, but she tried to keep her expression calm.
“I’m nothiding,” she said, though even she didn’t believe it.“I just don’t want to make anything awkward.”
Jasper gave her a long, assessing look, then dropped his gaze and squeezed the bottle in his hand, as if he wanted to say something more but changed his mind at the last second.
“I think she’s cooled off,” he said unexpectedly.“She’s angry, sure, but she’s curious. She does want to know who her mother is.”
Nina swallowed. Her throat felt dry. They fell silent again, their eyes locking for a moment, that same strange tension rising between them—tight, heavy, not fully understood by either of them.
Then she noticed someone waving in their direction: Lynn.
She was looking at Jasper, not seeing Nina yet. Nina’s heart clenched sharply, and she instinctively stepped back, but Jasper caught her wrist in a quick, firm motion.
“Stay,” he said quietly, leaning in a little.
She froze.
His fingers closed slightly around her skin, and again she didn’t understand what was happening to her—why every small touch from him knocked the ground out from under her.
Lynn was almost there now, and the tension between them stretched so tight it felt like it might snap.
“No, Jasper, I should go,” Nina whispered, avoiding his eyes.“It’s better this way.”
Before he could answer, she turned away and hurried out of the tent. Her heart pounded, her hands trembled, and her thoughts tangled into chaos.
Why did she react to him like this?
Why was even hearing his voice suddenly too much?
She slipped between the other volunteers, muttering a quick apology to the girl whose shoulder she nearly bumped, and walked fast down the path toward the picnic area. People were already laying out blankets, setting up tables with fruit and drinks. A couple of girls arranged plates and baskets of bread.
Nina stopped at the edge of the lawn, taking several deep breaths to calm herself.
She leaned her back against a large oak tree and closed her eyes. She needed to pull herself together. This was just an event. Just a normal day. She came here to help, not to run from people.
She took a sip of hot tea, the paper cup burned her lips, but warmth spread through her chest, evening out her breath. In her other hand was a simple ham-and-cheese sandwich that, oddly, tasted wonderful. She chewed slowly, willing herself not to think about Jasper, not to think about his words, or about the way his fingers had wrapped around her wrist.
The far side of the lawn was quiet. Volunteers bustled near the tables, laughing and talking about the runners. Nina felt like she belonged to this calmer, lighter world—so far removed from everything that had consumed her for months. She took another sip of tea and allowed herself a brief moment of peace.
But her little refuge shattered instantly.
Two figures were walking down the path toward her. Directly. Purposefully.
Jasper and Lynn.
Nina’s heartbeat spiked.
She coughed, the piece of sandwich catching in her throat. Oh God. Not now. She should have moved, should have walked farther, should have disappeared among the crowd—but her feet refused to budge. The paper cup in her hand bent from how tightly she was gripping it.
Lynn walked ahead of him, carrying a tray of food. Her brow was slightly furrowed, her expression serious. Jasper followed, two cups balanced in his hands. They were getting closer, and Nina felt panic rise like a hot tide under her skin.
