Before she could protest, he vanished through the kitchen—again, so sure of where he was going. This time, Aubrey didn’t have the energy to follow. She eased toward the fire and stretched out her hands.
Heat bathed her skin, every bit as soothing as if she’d stepped into a steaming shower after a week of camping. Such blessed, beautifulwarmth. It permeated her by degrees, thawing the frost in her bloodstream.
Nick was gone a long time. Eventually, Aubrey’s core temperature reached a normal level, enough that she vacated the fire in favor of the kitchen, where she found an electric kettle in an ancient cabinet. She boiled enough water to fill two mugs, tossed a teabag into each, and carried her spoils to the living room, killing the overhead lights on the way.
The fire crackled in earnest now. She set the mugs on the hearth and sat staring into the dance of orange and blue. As akid, she’d spent evenings here, doing her homework by firelight while her dad had solved sudokus. Afterward, they’d launched into their nightly deliberations, discussing life. Dreams. How to chase what you wanted until you caught it.
A grimace surfaced at the bittersweet reminder. It had been so easy, then, to look up to him. Tobelievehim. Her classmates had mocked her aspirations to become a mathematician—because what kind of cheerleader went on to crunch numbers?—but her dad had never made her feel small or silly. Never suggested she was too young to know what she wanted. No, he’d given her the tools to succeed, encouraged her to apply to NYU, and pushed her to get out of Henderson.
Pushed her a littletoohard, as it turned out.
Nick appeared in the doorway, pulling Aubrey from her reverie. Confusion flitted across his face at the lack of lighting, but she shrugged it off.
“The furnace is lit,” he said. “And I got the water heater working. It’ll take a while for the house to heat up, so you should probably sleep in here tonight, but I programmed the thermostat to seventy. The unit’s in the back hall, if you want to change it.”
She said nothing. She still hadn’t processed his presence here, in her living room. In her life. She especially hadn’t processed the fact that his marriage had ended and he hadn’t even bothered to look her up. Then again, that one fact told her all she needed to know.
In the face of her silence, Nick strayed closer. After a moment’s hesitation, he arranged himself on the floor, facing her, his elbows draped over his knees. “Did you make me tea?”
Aubrey contemplated the second mug. Apparently, she had. “Yeah. I’m pretty happy to not be freezing to death anymore. So... thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmured.
Silence pooled between them. God, what went on behind those guarded eyes these days? Did he let down that wall for some other woman, now? He must. No one who stole all the air from the room like he did could possibly evade female company for long.
“What’re you doing here, Aubrey?” he finally said.
She looked away. The question sounded innocuous, but he hadn’t asked casually. Nick didn’t do casual.
She dredged up the same serene expression that had reassured Gallant in the car. “I’m just on sabbatical. New York was getting... chaotic, and I needed a break. I won’t be here long.” Lies, lies, and one hopeful not-lie.
“You’re okay, though?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know.” He squinted. “Now that I’m seeing you up close, you just... have that look.”
She frowned. “What look?”
Nick sipped his tea while holding her gaze. “Thatlook. Like something’s wrong and you’re trying to pretend it isn’t.”
“I... I...” Her words turned to ash in her throat.
His eyes changed. She finally caught a glimmer there—a dark softness, the fleeting edge of an invitation.
She burst into tears.
The breakdown hit her hard and fast, utterly beyond her control to stop.Not now, she thought desperately, but here she was, sobbing her heart out to the one person she least wanted to see.
“Oh, Aubs.” Nick reached out.
She couldn’t explain why she did it. She should have pushed him away, but instead, she tipped forward and buried her face in his neck. Her nose squished against the wool of his sweater. His chest felt like warm iron beneath her cheek.
He pulled her close. Aubrey’s back heaved, each sob bringinganother rush of him into her lungs—fire and soap and something metallically sharp, like a birthday candle that had just been snuffed out. His grip felt so much stronger than she remembered, yet the effect was somehow the same. Years peeled away, and here they were again, safe together in a circle of fireglow, each other’s refuge, and god, why had she turned off the lights? Why had she let him set foot in this house? What had shethoughtwould happen?
“You can tell me.” His warm breath filtered through her hair. “Whatever it is, I’ve got you.”
That only made her cry harder. Aubrey groped in the direction of wherever her sanity had gone and came up with a handful of mettle, which she used to disengage from Nick’s embrace and scoot back. He watched her go, looking strangely bereft, but that must have been a trick of the firelight.
