Page 45 of Nash
"Inside, Kyle."
Kyle disappears into the clubhouse with the speed of a man fleeing a federal subpoena. East follows him, hands up, walking backwards in the international gestural code forI surrender, I surrender, please don't hex me.
Frankie holds the magnet at her side and turns to Sloane, then Candace, then Darla, then me.
"How long did you know?"
"We didn't." Sloane lifts both hands. "I swear on the witch shelf. The boys did not loop the girls in on this one."
"They go behind your backs?"
"When they want to live."
"I'm filing," Frankie announces to the lot. She holds the magnet aloft. "This is a category eight violation. I want a formal hearing. I want it on the record. I am hexing his tires."
"You can't actually hex his tires," Candace says. "Can you?"
Frankie does not answer.
I'm gripping the picnic table with both hands to keep from sliding off it. Darla has rolled sideways. Sloane is wiping hereyes. This is the funniest fucking thing I have ever seen, and Frankie is the one suffering for once. The natural order of the universe has tilted. I am going to cherish this moment until the day I die.
Frankie peels the rest of the magnet off her car with the force of a woman performing an exorcism, shoves it in her bag, and returns to the picnic table. Sets her coffee back down. Crosses her arms.
"I want a hearing."
"There's a hearing structure?" Candace says.
"There is now."
I look at Nash.
His mouth is doing the thing. Both corners lifted. Held. He's watching me laugh, and the look on his face is warm enough that my chest aches.
Then it's gone. But I saw it. And he knows I saw it.
Chapter 12
Ruby
WeridetoAmaranth.Three blocks. With my chin on his shoulder blade, and my arms around his waist. My grin still hasn't come down.
"Did you see his face when he flicked the bell?" I shout over the wind. "That was the face of a man questioning every decision he's ever made. That was a man in crisis, Nash. A man reckoning with the basket."
His chest shakes against my hands. Barely. A vibration I wouldn't catch if I weren't pressed against his back with every nerve ending on high alert.
I go still. "Did you just laugh?"
The bike accelerates through the turn.
"You laughed. You definitely laughed. I felt it. That was a laugh, Nash. A real one. Against my hand. I have physical evidence."
He doesn't answer. He doesn't deny it, either.
He parks at the curb outside Amaranth. The engine cuts. Before I climb off, his hand reaches back and taps my knee twice. Quick. Light. Something he's never done before.
My breath catches. I stare at the back of his head.
I climb off on legs that feel new. He follows, pulling the key, scanning the street. Like the tap didn't happen. Like his hand didn't just touch my knee on purpose.
