Page 58 of Bad Wolf's Nanny
Her throat tightened.
She wasn’t going to cry.
She wasn’t.
It was just…no one had ever said it like that before.
She tucked herself closer against his side, hiding her face in his shoulder, because if she looked at him any longer, she might ask if he meant it. If any of this meant anything. And she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answer.
Instead, she let the quiet settle between them again, just this side of peaceful.
But of course, after a while, familiar thoughts and insecurities began to bubble up against her will. She tried to push them away. Tried to focus on thehereand thenowand not worry about the future.
In the end, however, it was an itch she had no choice but to scratch.
She knew better than to push.
But the words bubbled up anyway.
“So…are we, like, a thing now?”
The energy in the room changed, the warmth becoming slightly too oppressive, the calm ruptured into tense anticipation. Dane’s muscles flexed under her touch, growing still, as if ready to bolt.
She swallowed, panic rising in her throat.
Dane didn’t move for a second. Then he shifted under her, just enough to reach for the hoodie tossed over the edge of the bed. He tugged it on without looking at her.
Her stomach dropped.
“Right,” she said quickly, trying to soften it with a laugh, “cool. Totally normal. Just…just checking.”
He rubbed a hand over his face and let out a breath, “Lola, I’m not…this isn’t my thing, alright?”
“What isn’t your thing? Talking? Communication in general?”
“No…well, yes, but I meanthis,” he said, gesturing vaguely between them. “You. Me. Whatever this is.”
“That’s what I’m asking,” she said, her voice wobbling slightly, “what is this?”
He didn’t answer.
She sat up a little straighter, sheet clutched to her chest, “I’m not trying to trap you or anything, I just…I need to know. I need to understand if I’m supposed to pretend this didn’t happen or if it’s okay that I—”
“Lola.”
She froze. He wasn’t yelling, but the way he said her name, frustrated, exasperated, like she was making a mess out of something simple, hit her like a slap.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, pulling away a little, “I didn’t mean to…sorry.”
“No, don’t….” He sighed and sat up, elbows on his knees, “I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m just…God, I’m bad at this.”
“At what?”
“Relationships. Feelings. Having a conversation where I don’t say the wrong thing or screw it up halfway through.”
“You’re not screwing anything up,” she said, a little too quickly, “I mean, I’m the one who just ambushed you with a weird question while you were putting your hoodie on, so really—”
“I just think maybe we shouldn’t make a big deal out of it,” he interrupted, voice awkward and stumbling. “It happened. It was…nice. But things are complicated right now.”
