Page 92 of Begin Again
“I’m”—she glances over at me and chews on her bottom lip, her gaze returning to the road—“driving home.”
Holy shit. She didn’t tell them. They have no idea she left to find me.
“How far out are you?”
“About an hour away.” Her answers remain short and sweet, to the point. She’s trying not to give anything away to either one of us—me or him.
“Anything I need to know?”
“Nope. I’ll fill you in when I get there.”
He sighs. “Okay. Be careful, Sweetheart.”
She hums in response, hanging up the call.
I count to five, waiting for her to say something, anything, but she doesn’t. Her eyes are glued to the road ahead. Her thumb fiddles with her wedding ring, her left hand resting in her lap. When I get to five, I take a deep breath and ask, “Why the fuck is Beau Turner calling youSweetheart?”
CHAPTER FORTY
Nina
FUCK.
I wasn’t ready for this conversation yet. What am I supposed to say? I’m not going to lie. I planned on telling Nick about Beau and everything that happened, but I didn’t plan on doing it right now.
Thanks, Beau.
No, this isn’t his fault. I should’ve told him Nick was sitting next to me, but then he’d follow that up with a million other questions. The first one being: Why didn’t I let him go with me? The answer was simple. I needed to do this alone, but what if Nick hadn’t remembered me? Having Beau there would’ve been a smart idea.
My fingers white knuckle the steering wheel for a count of three before they relax, straightening out.
“Nina,” Nick says, removing his hand from my leg. “Why is Beau—”
“It’s a nickname, Nick. That’s it.”
“Not when it comes tomywife, it’s not. What is going on?”
I sigh, closing my eyes for less than a second. When I reopen them, I stare at the road ahead. “Nick, I’m not going to lie to you.”
He interrupts me. “Did you fuck him?”
When I glance at him, there’s a hint of betrayal in his eyes. It hurts to see it there, but I can’t lie to him. I sigh, pushing a hand through my hair. “Yes, Beau and I slept together about three months ago. It only happened once, but—”
“Wow.” Nick breathes, scratching the stubble on his cheek. “You and Beau.”
“It’s not like that, Nick. I promise it’s not. We’re not together. It’s complicated.”
“Seems pretty straightforward to me. You didn’t wait long, did you, Nin?”
He’s digging in deep using that nickname. My husband doesn’t call me Nin. He calls me a variety of things, but neverNin. He has only called me that once before, and just like then, he’s using it to get under my skin.
“You cannot be serious.” I scoff.
“I mean, first it was Luke, and now—”
“Stop,” I say, cutting him off. We are not about to compare Luke Benson and Beau Turner. “This is not the same. Nothing happened with Luke. Nothing. Those flowers…They weren’t meant for me. Luke sent his girlfriend flowers and they got mixed up with the ones you sent.”
“That’s not the point, Nina.”
