Page 99 of Wicked Serve

“Maybe Grandfather could get him on the no-fly list or something.”

“I think if he could, he already would have.”

“Ugh,” she groans. Her voice softens. “I’m sorry. Tell me if he starts talking about dates. How’s Isabelle?”

“She’s getting a tattoo,” I say, happy to change the topic of conversation. “Right now, I mean.”

“Really? I love her even more.”

“You haven’t even met her.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“It’s not my fault that she wasn’t at the game you saw in the fall.”

“We should get dinner. Come to the city.”

“I’ll see if we can work something out. She’s busy right now with wedding planning stuff.”

“Wait. Did you—”

“Jesus, no.” My stomach flips, not unpleasantly. “Her brother’s wedding. She’s working on it with my mom.”

“Oh, nice. That’s cool.”

“She’s really talented at it.” I clear my throat. It’s snowing heavier now, slowing traffic. “Not just at keeping track of everything and making sure all the details are correct, although that, too. But it’s more meaningful than table settings and color schemes. She has this ability to make a story out of the event. It’s an art form.”

While I’ve always respected the business my mother built after her divorce, I never paid too much attention to the details. Not until now. Even last summer, I didn’t understand the point. After Isabelle walked me through her thought process on James and Bex’s wedding tone—not a theme—the other day, however, I started to get it. She’s creating a story, a celebration, a promise for the future. And she’s damn talented at it, even if she’s still learning.

“Aw, are you blushing?”

“What? No.”

“I’ll bet you’re blushing. You sound so different when you talk about her, by the way. It’s cute.”

I scuff the toe of my boot against the ground. “I’m hanging up.”

“It’s nice, Nikolai. Really. It’s nice.” She’s quiet for a minute, and I stay on the line, even though the back of my neck is burning. Cricket texts me all the time about her various short-lived relationships—she has the busiest dating life of anyone I know, queer or straight—but we don’t usually talk about me. “You sound like she’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced.”

I peer around the corner. Through the window, I can’t see much of Isabelle, but something loosens in my chest anyway. She stood up to my past—demanded to hear the truth of it—and didn’t even flinch. I don’t deserve her, and when I’ve lost her, that’s what I’ll remember.

Because she is the best thing, and that’s terrifying.

Chapter 48

Izzy

“He called again, didn’t he?”

The soles of my shoes crunch against the ice melt on the sidewalk as Nik and I loop around the quad. After all the runs on the trail, it’s still a novelty to do this on campus, in full view of anyone passing by. Same as when I stop by the rink during practice, or kiss him before heading to class. It makes me want to explode with happiness, which I know sounds cheesy, but I didn’t realize how nice it would be, having Nik in my life without reservations.

I have him. I have a break from volleyball. I have a chance to prove myself with Bex and James’s wedding. If Nik’s dad would just leave him the fuck alone, life would be perfect.

But he hasn’t. He keeps calling, keeps trying to plan a trip to see Nik. I know it because of the way Nik acts after he gets a call, that panic edged in exhaustion that knocks him out for the rest of the day. He slept over at my house last night, and sometime early this morning, he slipped out of the room, phone in hand. I found him in the kitchen later, pale and sipping coffee as he stared at his computer.

He looks over with a sigh. “It’s fine.”

“You should stop answering.”

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