Page 13 of Canvas of Lies
“Really?” His eyebrows lifted. “No college parties, no club-hopping?”
“Nope. I do love a good wine cooler, but only one of them and only once in a while.”
Nico sat across the table from me and propped his chin on one hand, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. “Jamaican Me Crazy? Sex on the Beach? Strawberry Daiquiri?”
This time, I stuck out my tongue. “I am an equal opportunist when it comes to fruity concoctions.”
“If frozen pizza is an affront to my dad’s memory, I’m pretty sure Katherine Willoughby sipping a wine cooler is the ultimate sin in your father’s eyes.”
“Yes, because running an online resale business for vintage toys makes me his pride and joy,” I drawled. “This might come as a surprise, but I don’t give a shit what he thinks. I haven’t even seen him in years.”
Nico blinked at me. “Years? Really?”
I tipped my bottle in his direction. “Your stalker game is clearly not up to snuff, Beaumont.”
He gave a thoughtful hum and dropped his gaze to his pizza.Though I was a bit unnerved by his sudden silence, I was also completely exhausted and my head still ached, despite the painkillers. We finished our dinner with little conversation, then Nico took our plates to the sink to wash up.
By the time he looked over again, probably expecting to see me pacing around the small cabin with my usual restless energy, I was still seated at the table and beginning to droop.
“Come on, up you get,” he said gently, pulling me to my feet.
He led me to the bedroom, flipped on the light, and showed me where everything was. I ignored everything but the bed—Nico’s bed. The temptation of collapsing onto a mattress that smelled like him was almost too much to resist, but he took my hand and led me into the bathroom, where a packaged toothbrush sat on the counter.
“If you had let me explain, we would’ve had the chance to go home and pack a bag for you. I have plenty of t-shirts and some sweatpants with drawstrings that I guess will have to do for now, but I can wash what you’re wearing. Anything in the dresser is up for grabs.”
With a huffed laugh, I said, “Maybe next time you should mail out a handwritten invitation with full instructions before you show up unexpectedly. Then I can keep an overnight bag packed and be ready to roll at a moment’s notice.”
“Very funny. There won’t be a next time. This is it, win or lose. I’ll be out on the couch if you need me.”
“So I get this big bed all to myself? What, Nico, are you afraid you can’t keep your hands off me?” I taunted.
It was meant in jest, but my voice came out low and husky. Nico leaned down, so close that his cheek brushed mine in a whisper of sensation.
“Careful, Kitten.”
The words vibrated against my ear and goosebumps rose along my skin. I bit back the smartass remark I wanted to make, but I couldn’t resist turning my head a fraction of an inch, rubbing my soft cheek more firmly against the shadow of a beard gracing his jawline.
When he sucked in a sharp breath, I took a quick step back and smiled brightly up at him. Two could play this game.
“Right, then I’ll just get ready for bed. Goodnight.”
It was impossible not to feel his gaze burning into my back as I strolled into the bedroom and shut the door between us. As much as I wanted to collapse against it and relive that flare of heat, I suspected he was still standing there, still staring after me.
I gave myself a moment to take some slow, deep breaths, then moved to the dresser holding my meager wardrobe options.
You’re playing with fire,I told myself, but the warning inspired a thrill of excitement rather than suppressing it.
After spending so many of my formative years dreaming about being alone in close quarters with Nicolas Beaumont, reality burned hotter than I’d ever imagined. Even more importantly, he wasn’t immune to my charms, that much was clear.
As I pulled on a blue cotton pajama set I found in the top drawer, I contemplated our earlier conversation, his comments about not being able to get me out of his head.
This wasn’t how I’d expected a potential reunion to happen, though. We had each gone away for college, but I kept an eye on his social media and knew he’d come back to town afterward. I thought he worked in computer programming of some kind, figured he’d be tucked away in an office somewhere.
When he said he’d remotely disabled those security cameras, though, I had to second guess that particular assumption.
For years, I’d envisioned a reunion between us—of course, most of my fantasies started there and ended up fairly explicit. Now, seeing him in the flesh, it was clearer than ever that I hadn’t outgrown my feelings for him.
In truth, they seemed to have multiplied tenfold.
