Page 75 of Implode

“For life.”

20

NIC

“Holy shit!” Angie expresses, clasping her hands over her heart.

“Sorry,” I answer sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I’m here to ask Claire a couple of last-minute questions about the wedding stuff.”

“Sure, right.” Her eyes give me a knowing look, and I can tell she knows more than she is letting on. Her hand isn’t swinging back to hit me, so at least there is that.

“I’ll walk you to Collins who is waiting for you down in the lobby.”

“I’m sure I can figure out how to get to the lobby, Nic,” she almost whines.

I grab my phone out of my pants pocket and dial Collins’s number while Angie gawks at me. She knows me well enough by now to realize I work with the same code as Graham does. We take care of those we love, and while it will never be romantic between us, there is no shortage of emotion I feel toward her. She was family long before she ever got engaged to my brother. I look out for her as if she is my sister.

“Angie is ready and refusing for me to walk her down,” I say into the speaker of the phone.

“You take your role very seriously,” she goads, huffing under her breath.

“On my way,” Collins says before disconnecting the call.

“You better not hurt her,” Angie warns.

I narrow my eyes but remain silent. I want to ask how much she knows but bite my tongue. Now is not the time to hash out my relationship status with my soon-to-be sister-in-law.

The arrival of Collins ends the stare down. I wait until they are safely in the elevator before knocking on Claire’s door. She may not even know I am here. Or perhaps she is avoiding me, which I have been suspecting she has been doing most of the evening.

“I didn’t order any pizza,” she yells from the other side, an edge of anger to her voice.

“I ain’t got a pizza,” I echo back. “Let me in, Claire. Whatever it is you are pissed at me about, we can discuss it and move forward.”

I wait anxiously until the door cracks open just enough for her hand to fly out and launch a cell phone toward my face. I duck just in time and hiss over the sound it makes as the screen shatters from the impact of it being thrown against the wall.

“There’s your parting gift. Shove it up your ass if you want or put it up on a shelf as a trophy for fooling me for as long as you did.”

I dart toward the open door, but Claire slams it shut before I can wedge myself into her apartment. “Claire?” I knock gently on the door. I refuse to apologize for keeping a tracker on her phone—if that’s what this is even about—but I will apologize for not telling her I was doing it. “Open the door, baby.”

“Don’t youbabyme!” she bellows.

“We can discuss this. Just open the door.”

“No!”

“Need me to contact the landlord and get a key to open this place up? I can make up some story and—”

The door flies open and my girl is standing in all her glory, fuming from head to toe. Between the time Angie left and now, she must have changed into her soft cotton pajama set. She looks cute yet tough, and her ability to pull both off makes her even more desirable.

“You wouldn’t.” Her words come out more as a dare, rather than a sneer.

“I most definitely would,” I say, trying my best not to break out into a smile. “You want to keep testing me?” As much as I love when we are getting along, a sliver of me misses this vibrant and passionate version of Claire. When my girl is mad, she doesn’t hold back. While I don’t particularly like being on the receiving end of her wrath, I will take her explosive reactions over her silent treatment any day. I can catch whatever she wants to throw my way.

“Oh, how I wish I could smack your stupid smirk off your stupid face.”

“Come here and try,” I goad.

“No.”

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