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“It’ll only take a minute,” he says, misreading the look on my face.
The last thing I want to do right now is be alone in his apartment with him. To stand close to him, breathe him in and out, and not be able to touch him.
“Can’t you just show me on your phone?” I ask.
He raises it, shows a black screen. “Forgot to charge it on the plane.”
I nod reluctantly. “Okay, but briefly,” I say. “I need to sleep and we’ll both be at the office tomorrow, right?”
Nick nods. “Of course.”
Of course.
Landing in New York has put a magnetic field between us. Up in the air, we were still holding hands, still leaning against each other. Now we sit on opposite sides of the car. Even the thought of reaching for his hand seems inappropriate.
I watch him discreetly as he stares out the window at the evening Manhattan traffic. He never looks my way.
We arrive at his penthouse. My stomach is in my throat. I was so sure on the plane that I was going to risk it all, but in the face of his overwhelming apathy, I don’t think I have the nerve. After Nick talks me through blueprints and asks for mock-ups, will I be able to say, look, I think we have something here? Just the thought of his expression after I say those fateful words turns my blood to rivers of ice.
Then Nick looks at me for the first time since the airport. “Ready?” he asks.
No. But I get out anyway.
The lobby of Nick’s apartment is just as beautiful as the outside. The concierge greets Nick by name and then comes out from behind the desk.
“Sir,” he says. “There are some people?—”
Nick raises a hand, cutting him off. “Don’t worry about it,” he says.
“But—”
“Robert,” Nick says emphatically. I look between them confused. Nick is staring daggers at the man. Robert looks torn, but then he relents and steps aside.
Nick leads me to a gleaming private elevator. As he presses the button to the penthouse, he starts to speak.
“Evie,” he says as the doors close. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said on the plane.”
On the plane? We’ve barely spoken all day.
He reads my confusion and clarifies. “On the plane from Paris.”
Oh.
Oh.
“I never thought I was one for a relationship. Never saw the use of it, never got the big deal.” He pauses.
He sounds apprehensive, a word I’d never use to describe Nick. But now he’s not meeting my eye, searching for the right words. He’s about to confess something. And from the lead-up, I think know exactly what that something is.
The emotional whiplash combines with the altitude change to make me dizzy. The adrenaline borne on excitement and relief that floods through my body is barely enough to keep me upright.
Holy shit. He feels the same way.
And then Nick finds his words and confirms it all: “But then I went to Paris with you, Evie.” He turns to me, takes my limp hands in his. They’re strong and warm, and it gives me strength just staring into his kind, determined eyes. “And it was the best?—”
He pauses, a puzzled look flashes across his face but I barely comprehend it.
“And it was the best—” He stops, frowns, tries to continue. “The best?—”
