Page 152 of Tessa and Nash

If Nash is scanning the room.

When did I start factoring him into my awareness like this? Into my calculations? Into my emotional weather?

Maeve hands me a cup of cider from a passing tray. I take it without argument.

“Drink,” she orders. “It’ll make you look occupied.”

“Thank you for your strategic support.”

“Anytime,” she says. Then, softer, “You okay?”

I hesitate.

The truth presses up against my teeth, inconvenient and unhelpful.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “He feels far away tonight.”

Maeve snorts. “You just danced with him.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

She studies me for a long beat. “He’s not far away. He’s folded in on himself. There’s a difference.”

I glance toward the bar again.

Nash is there now, shoulder leaning against the wood, one elbow braced like he needs the support. He laughs at something Dallas says, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He tips his head back and takes a long drink, trying to swallow the noise.

I look away.

“Maybe this is better,” I say, aiming for breezy and landing somewhere brittle. “We don’t need to be glued together all night. That would look suspicious.”

Maeve raises a brow. “Suspicious of what?”

“That we’re compensating.”

“For…?”

I shoot her a look. “Don’t.”

She grins, unapologetic. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“Maybe,” she concedes. “But listen to yourself. You’re talking like this is a chess match.”

I wrap both hands around my cup. “That’s because Buckhorn is a chess match. And I’m currently a very visible piece.”

Maeve leans closer. “You’re allowed to be a person too, you know.”

“Not here,” I say quietly. “Not tonight.”

We stand there, watching the dance floor fill again. A slow song now. Couples drifting together, heads bowed, hands resting with the familiarity of people who know exactly where they belong.

I feel oddly untethered.

For years, I’ve known how to exist in rooms like this. How to smile just enough. How to deflect without offending. How to keep my heart neatly contained where no one can trip over it.

Nash McCoy has wrecked that system in under a month.