“You tipped a double espresso over me in the cafeteria, but when we went to the café, you ordered a latte.”
“You’re very observant.”
“Obviously. Have you filled that diary yet?”
“Not yet.”I take a sip from the cup, the bitterness making me smile. “Even if I fill it in, I’m not allowed to go shopping again,” I mutter, keeping the conversation going. Now that he’s here, I want him to stay. “I’m grounded on my father’s orders.”
“Grounded? Sounds dramatic. You’re not a child, Hailey, spare me the pouting.”
I purposely fold my arms over my chest, stiffening at his crude tone. “I think I’ve earned the right to some dramatics, considering I’m under lock and key.”
“People usually have reasons for the things they do. Maybe he’s protecting you.”
“From what? You saw that town as well as I did. It’s a glorified village. There’s nothing there, Nash.”
“Did you eat today? You’re unusually cranky.” His gaze narrows, the weight of his stare making me shift uncomfortably. Even when he’s relaxed, there’s a raw power to him that makes me feel like a trapped animal. “Stop acting clueless. You’re here to heal, aren’t you? I’m sure your father believes leaving campus is an unnecessary risk.”
“I wish that’s all there was to it, but there’s more and I deserve to know what’s happening.”
“Sometimes, ignorance is a blessing.”
“I don’t need cryptic advice.” I roll my eyes, toying with the takeout cup lid. “I need answers.”
Nash grips my chin, turning my head his way, his unexpected touch making me gasp.
“I fucking told you not to do that, Hailey,” he seethes, his tone stern but heavy, making my stomach leap.
The heat of his fingers sends a fit of mini-cramps down my abdomen. I’m painfully aware how close he is, his breath sighing against my skin.
I’m caught in his grasp, not only physically but mentally. He’s... intimidating and intoxicating at the same time. His fingers are rough against my chin, but his hold is gentle, careful, and the tension between us is as taut as a cello string.
I have no clever retort.
“Let go,” I whisper without conviction.
Part of me, the reckless part, hopes he won’t. It hopes he’ll lean in closer. That he’ll seal the gap and kiss me, then drag me onto his lap and carry on until our lips turn numb.
The confusing swirl of anger, annoyance, and undeniable attraction leaves me off balance as I realize I’ve missed him this week. His dark, penetrating eyes roam my face, committing every detail to memory.
There’s a hunger in that look which mirrors my own.
“I get why you’re annoyed.” He drags his fingers down my jawline until they meet under my chin. “Sulking won’t help you understand what happened.” A softness flickers in his eyes, swiftly masked by that ever-present caution. “Focus on your memories, pretty girl.”
He releases me and the sudden absence of his touch is almost as startling as its presence. I take a deep breath, regaining my composure, my fingers unconsciously brushing the spot where his were. It tingles.
Everything fucking tingles.
Nash is a puzzle, a blend of rough edges and soft touches. And right now, all the pieces draw me closer.
“How can you be so sure?” I ask.
“I pay attention to what you say... and what you don’t.” He motions at my diary.“Does it help?” He closes his full lips around the paper rim, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
Why is that sosexy?
“Writing the memories down,” he adds like I don’t know what he’s asking.
“It’s as therapeutic as it is traumatic.”
