He took his time examining me. I thought he’d given up on feeding me until he grabbed the sandwich and held it in front of my lips.
“Take a bite first, then we talk.”
Blood rushed to my cheeks. I leaned forward and bit into the sandwich, pulling back when my lips brushed against his finger. I hurried to chew, unable to enjoy the taste as his eyes fixated on my mouth.
“What’s the favor?” he asked when I swallowed.
“I want a centerpiece for the hotel.”
“Why?”
The door seemed further away.
I peeked at it and considered making a run for it. “Why what?”
“You know what I’m asking. Stop being cute.” A fingertip met the bottom of my chin. The slightest touch turned me to face him. “Why do you want the centerpiece so much?”
“This isn’t part of the deal.” His touch burned my chin. I dislodged from it with a shake of my head. “I eat, and you do it. That’s the deal.”
“Fuck the deal. Answer the question.”
“You can’t follow rules, can you?”
“Rules are made to separate leaders from followers. I know which I am, and it seems you're not the one I thought you were.” He set the sandwich down and folded his arms across his chest, studying my face like he didn’t understand me and didn’t fully understand why he wanted to. “You could ask for any favor. A centerpiece doesn’t benefit you. Why this?”
I resented Nash for being so relentless. His conviction matched my own, which meant every time we spoke, one of us won and one of us lost. And I usually sat on the losing side.
What was that Robert Kiyosaki quote?
Sometimes you win, and sometimes you learn.
I swallowed my pride and took the L, wondering what the fuck it taught me. “You don’t care about Haling Cove’s location.”
“Because you know me so well?”
“I do.”
I fidgeted with my fingers, telling myself my words wouldn’t condemn me. So what if I knew Nash? He’d lived on my dad’s estate for almost ten years. It’d be less normal if I didn’t know Nash.
I continued, “I don’t like that I do, but it doesn’t change the fact that I know you. You don’t care about Haling Cove, but Betty cares about you. Haling Cove is close to Eastridge. That means she’ll be here during the grand opening.”
My pulse leapt in my throat, nearly choking me, a reminder of what a pain in the ass it could be. Loving someone Nash loved seemed more intimate in the moment. As if it were a degree too close to him.
“And?” he asked.
I considered lying, but what would the point? He usually saw through it. Plus, lies cost more than truths, and I was broke with a capital B.
“And,” I drawled, rushing out a breath with my words, “I want her to be proud of what I helped build.”
His silence made my feet bounce against the linoleum. I waited for him to wash away that glint from his eyes. It made the room feel hotter, the floor less sturdy, and my stomach prick with little needles.
I broke first. “Will you do it or what?”
“Done.” That glint never left his eyes. If anything, it grew, a balloon near its popping point. “Eat the food.”
Beside us, my phone buzzed. I shot my eyes to it, praying it wasn’t a notification from the Eastridge United app before I remembered I’d shut those off. Reed’s name flashed on the screen.
I didn’t move to answer.
Nash had picked up the sandwich again, but it hovered in his hands as he eyed the phone. “You’re ignoring him?”
“He’s proposing to Basil.”
I didn’t elaborate.
“I don’t understand it.”
“Neither do I.” I automatically bit into the sandwich when he held it up to me, then stepped back after I realized what I’d done. His amusement didn't waver as I glared at him, chewed, and swallowed. “I don’t like him like that anymore,” I added since he continued giving me a look that suggested I did.
“Sure.”
“I swear.”
“I believe you.”
“I mean it.”
I swiped hair out of my eyes and frowned, realizing something. Reed never made me feel like I floated in the air while tethered to the ground. A feeling I only knew existed because it was the type of off-balance that engulfed me whenever Nash neared.
As if the memory of who he used to be made who he currently was that much more enticing. The fighter who fed me turned into the billionaire C.E.O. who fed me, and not a single person in this fucking world could guess why, but at least I came closest.
“Reed and I never would have been good together anyway,” I added.
“I know.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?”
Nash tilted his head and scanned my body. “Did Reed ever make you come?”
“We both know he didn’t. Either your point is flying over my head, or it’s so meaningless, giving it my attention would be a waste of time. I could be listening to Danez Smith poems right now.”
He ignored me, a glimpse of a smile forming. “Did he ever make you wet without touching you?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Not everything in life is about sex.”
Nash set the sandwich down. “Not my point.”
That smile shined in full force, and it occurred to me that I didn’t remember ever seeing it. His smile could cure cancer, abolish student loan debt, and bring world peace. I wanted to pocket it and save it for myself. World peace sounded boring anyway.
“Would you ever let Reed touch you like I have?” he asked, engulfing me with just his words. It was like we stood in the unfinished suite again, and I couldn’t get the taste of him off my tongue.
I focused on my toes, wiggled them inside my Chucks, and counted each one to distract myself. “I can barely believe I let you touch me,” I muttered.
Or that I’d let you do it again.
“Did you ever feel like fighting for him?” His eyes read my face, collecting all the answers he needed from the dumbfounded expression pasted on it. “If someone looked at him wrong, talked to him wrong, touched him wrong, you would pick up a fucking sword and dive into battle without remembering to grab your armor?”
“I’d fight for him,” I protested.
I would.
Reed was my best friend.
If he called me up at four a.m. and told me he’d killed someone, I’d help him dig a damn grave outside a police station if he needed me to.
Nash shook his head like he found me sad and pathetic. His confidence punished me, because it meant he believed in his words, and when Nash believed, I did, too.
“You’d fight beside him, not for him. Two separate things. If he asked you to put down the sword, you’d listen because your stake isn’t bone-deep, a reflex, an untrained instinct. You have a choice in it, and that is the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. You can control one, but you sure as hell can’t control the other.”
“What do you know about love?” I spit out, hating the gap in our wisdom.
In ten years, would I say things like this?
Would I even know things like this?
He slid off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the counter, stopping only to loosen his tie. “Enough to know you were never in love with Reed.”