Page 69 of Nash
"Nash—"
"I'm going to her."
"She's asleep." East steps into my path. "Same place she's been all night. Take a breath first."
I'm already moving. East grabs my arm.
"Brother. Take a breath."
"She's spent a week thinking I'm in love with someone else." I pull my arm free. "A week. While I'm standing ten feet away trying to figure out why she stopped looking at me."
"I know. That's why I'm telling you." East holds my gaze. "The investigation stays between us. Webb, Lawrence, all of it. Until you're certain."
"I know what stays."
"And Nash." East picks up his mug. "Don't just tell her about Naya. Tell her the rest of it. The part you won't say to me, or James, or anyone else in this clubhouse." He takes a drink. "Tell her she matters."
I walk out of the kitchen. The main room is still dim, gray light filling the windows. Bodies shift under blankets. Knox is awake, his hand in Sloane's hair. He looks at me crossing the room and says nothing.
Ruby is still on the couch. Curled on her side, copper hair across the cushion, her breathing slow. The freckles I plan to count are scattered across her nose and cheeks. Her mouth is soft. Her face is bare.
I crouch beside her. Close enough to smell coconut.
"Ruby."
Her eyes open. Green. Unfocused. They find me.
She blinks. Her jaw sets. Her shoulders straighten. The softness from sleep disappears and the brightness clicks on behind her eyes.
"Morning," she says. Bright. Easy.
"We need to talk."
"About what?" She sits up, pushes her hair back. "If this is about the prank war, I want my attorney present."
"Now, Ruby."
Her mouth closes, and the brightness fades from her eyes. She swallows, searches my face, and whatever she finds there keeps her quiet.
"Okay," she murmurs.
I stand and hold out my hand. She looks at it, looks at me, and takes it.
Chapter 18
Nash
Hersmallhandiswarm in mine. Her fingers curl around my palm and hold on. The contact after a week of nothing sends a current straight through my chest.
I lead her up the stairs. She follows without speaking, which is how I know she understands this is serious. Ruby fills silence the way other people breathe. When she goes quiet, the air changes.
The spare room at the end of the hall. James and Maggie's blankets are folded on the bed, neatly. Precise. I close the door behind us. Ruby stands in the middle of the room with her arms crossed, sleep-rumpled, the oversized T-shirt hanging off one shoulder, her hair tangled, and eyes wary.
"Sit," I say.
She sits on the edge of the bed. I stay standing. I need the distance to get through what I'm about to say.
"Naya." I watch her face. "She's not what you think she is. She's my contact for an investigation I've been running for the last two years."
