“Okay, you’re good,” Zan says.
In the shade by a row of dumpsters, not far from the main resort hut, I push aside the pointy fronds and small white bags of garbage and climb out of the bin, and Zan pushes it behind one of the dumpsters. “You’ll reach out to Neville and Blaire while I put this uniform and key card back where I found them?”
“Yes. Be careful, and meet me back in the room, agreed?”
She nods. “Yes. You, too.” She reaches out to give my hand a squeeze before making for the stand of trees that shield us from view from the lobby or restaurant.
It’s just a swift, gentle touch, but it stays with me.
Because she didn’t have to touch me. She did it because she wanted to, or she thought I wanted her to. Either way, it means something.
Our relationship is changing. We’re becoming something more than friends who want to rip each other’s clothes off.
But we don’t have time, right now, to dwell on what that might be. Our new top priority is making sure none of Zan’s family members are murdered before we can put Stefano away for life.
Chapter Nineteen
Alexandra
By the time I get back to the room, Nick has already sent encrypted messages to Neville and Blaire and received “good work” responses from both.
“They also think we should stand down on the ‘buying a sex friend’ thing,” he says, rubbing at his freshly showered hair with a towel as he wanders toward the patio in his grey swim trunks and a light green T-shirt. “Neville caught some chatter on one of the landline taps yesterday that Stefano suspects a mole in his organization. Blaire thinks it’s probably nothing—or at least nothing to do with us—but it’s best not to draw any more attention than necessary.”
“So what’s the plan?” I ask, following him outside and settling into the lounger beside his, which is still protected by the shade of the building at this relatively early hour.
“We upload the video and images of the warehouse from your phone to the portal, keep our eyes and ears open, and make sure we get Stefano and Beatrice’s cells bugged before we leave. That’s it.”
My lips turn down at the edges. “We should do more. We’re wasting easy access to the target.”
“We’ve already found enough missiles to supply a mid-sized country for years and uncovered a possible plot to assassinate the present rulers and future king of Nimway. That’s not wasted time.” He sighs as he tosses his towel to the end of the chair. “But yes, I’d like to do more, too.”
I sit up straight, an idea sparking to life. “Beatrice. She clearly has no idea who Stefano really is, but she might know more than she realizes. I say we arrange to have cocktails with her by the pool this afternoon and gently pump her for information. I mean, I have mocktails, of course, but we get Bea tipsy and see what comes out.”
Nick grins. “Aw, are you sure? You’re so sweet to me when you’re drunk.”
I fold my arms and meet his sparkling gaze. “I’m not the one who confessed my secret crush last night. I think you should order mocktails, too.”
He hesitates a beat, his focus dropping to the tiles between our chairs. When he looks back up, he isn’t smiling anymore. “I wasn’t drunk, Zan. I only had one sip of my drink. I was sober when I said those things.”
I blink, my throat tightening as I study him, waiting for the punchline. But he isn’t joking. I swallow and whisper, “Oh.”
“So just keep that in mind as you’re considering where we go after we leave here. If we act on the chemistry between us, it’s going to be more than that for me. And…I think maybe for you, too.”
Drawing my legs in, I wrap my arms around my bent knees, my stomach tightening into a knot of dread. “I don’t think I can do more than chemistry, Nick. Not now and…maybe not ever. Letting my guard down hasn’t worked out for me in the past, and I’m someone who learns from my mistakes. I don’t repeat them.”
Nick’s lips part, but before he can speak, his cell vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and stands, whispering, “Blaire,” before he answers the call and steps inside.
Usually, I would trail him, trying to follow his conversation with our boss from the one side I can hear.
But now, I stay in my chair, willing my stomach to untie itself.
Nick has a crush on me. One that he’ll admit to while sober.
So what?
A crush isn’t a big deal. He isn’t going to fall to pieces and mourn our what-could-have-been for the rest of his life. Worst case, he’s disappointed and maybe a little hurt. Maybe things are awkward between us at the next family event, but we’re back to being friends by the time summer rolls around.