Page 96 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

I pressed my fingers under my eyelids, breathing in—one salamander, two salamander, three salamander. I’d told myself I was done crying over Sean, but I’d forgotten just how good he was at sniffing out my wounds and digging his claws into them.

My voice croaked as I fumbled my way through excusing myself from the table. I just needed to hold back the tears until I could get somewhere private and let myself have this sob, but my dress caught on the heel of my shoe and I nearly tripped. Beside me, Sean shook his head. That was the last straw. I couldn’t control it anymore. The tears flowed faster than I could swipe them away and I clapped my hand over my mouth, frantically searching for an exit.

And that was when I saw them—those good-luck charm, sea-foam green, alien eyes staring back at me from the entrance to the ballroom.

I clutched my chest. I was dreaming. That was the only way to explain it. All of the stories I’d made up in my head had finally turned into hallucinations. Nick couldn’t possibly be here right now.

But he lifted a hand and started toward me. My chair tumbled backward as I pushed away from the table and he was there, catching me by the elbows as I crashed against him.

“Nick?” Despite the shock, I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his shirt.

Sean pushed his chair out with a loud scratch. “What is going on, Bridget?” His tone was part censure, part mortification. It was nauseatingly familiar.

Nick turned to Sean and his face twisted in disgust like the goodness in him innately sensed Sean’s douchery. “Who’s this?”

He hadn’t even told me why he was here and now he was looking at Sean with Murder Eyes. “This is Sean,” I said. “He’s here for my dad.”

Nick looked between us, his eyes narrowing. “Why are you crying?”

Sean hissed a whisper. “Honestly, you’re making a scene.”

My father stood. “Bridget, do you know this man?”

Nick ignored my father’s puffed out chest. “Actually, Sean, I’m the one making a scene because for some reason Brit doesn’t think people like her scenes. I’m thinking you’re part of that reason?” He turned to my father. “And maybe you?”

My eyes bugged out of my skull. Being spoken to like that was the equivalent of a WWE Smackdown for my father. I wanted to pump my fist and cheer. I also wanted to hide because I knew what was coming.

“Excuse me, young man?” He turned to Sean. “Get security.”

Sean trotted off like the lackey he was. If only he knew he was a grown man with free will. And why the heck was Nick here?

It was so good to see him. His hair was a mess like he’d been dragging his hands through it. He’d shaved his face back to stubble and he still had that Costa Rica tan. His eyes were as bold as ever, but the whites were tinged with pink. Worry clouds gathered in my head. Was he sleeping? Drinking enough water? Exhaustion was all over his face.

“Brit.” He ignored the fact that my father had just sent his henchmen to alert the rent-a-cop on duty and slid his hand down my arm, lacing our fingers. “God, I missed you. You look so pretty.”

“What are you doing here, Nick?”

“I went to your house. One of your employees told me you were here. I needed to see you. You didn’t answer my text.”

Ha!His one text. I almost threw that back at him until I saw the pain on his face, how much that had cost him. Suddenly that one text was a golden rose. I’d left him speechless in a train station and he’d still sent me one text. Which was more than I’d given him back.

“I’m sorry. I . . .” A million excuses lined up on my tongue. Lies, mostly. But looking at him now, I didn’t know if I had the same conviction to keep myself sheltered at all costs. “I was scared.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. “Of what?”

“That you were figuring it out.” I ran a hand under my nose. “Now that we’re not on vacation anymore, you’ll get tired of trying to fit my square peg into your round life.”

“Why do you think that?” He shoved his hands in his hair.

“You didn’t exactly jump at the chance to keep going, Nick.” My voice was high-pitched and breaking. I was only vaguely aware that we were doing this in front of an audience until the ambient scraping of silverware stopped.

Nick didn’t seem to care. “You’re right. I fucked up, but I was never on vacation, remember? And I’m not going to get tired of you. I miss you so much. I haven’t slept since you left me.” He swallowed like he hadn’t meant to admit that. “I bought you a house.”

Wait.“What?”

He pulled his phone from his pocket, handing it to me. I didn’t dare look. There was no way I’d heard him correctly.He bought me a what?

“Bridget, who is this man?” my father boomed. “He bought you a house?”

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