Page 14 of About to Fall

Kinda cute, if I was being honest. Which I rarely was.

His eyes found me over the rim of his glass—something clear and fizzy, probably non-alcoholic—and his expression did that thing. The flicker. Surprise first, then a controlled irritation that he smoothed away so quickly most people would have missed it entirely.

I was not most people. And I was getting very good at reading the micro-expressions of Nico Fontaine.

“Nicky.” I slid into the booth across from him because the seat was open and because I wanted to watch him pretend he was fine with my existence in his general vicinity. “Nice party.”

“Zhao.” The single word carried an impressive weight of resignation. Like he’d been having a perfectly fine evening and had just watched it go to shit in real time. “I didn’t realize you were coming.”

“Sabrina invited me.”

“Sabrina invited everyone.” He took a careful sip of his drink. “She’s very inclusive.”

“That's a nice way of saying she didn't run the guest list by you.”

The corner of his jaw tightened. “Everyone is welcome.”

“Even me?”

“You're sitting here, aren't you?”

“That's not the same as I’m welcome and we both know it.” I leaned back in the booth and stretched one arm along the back of the seat. His eyes tracked the movement involuntarily—down my arm, across the tattoos, back up—and then he looked away, deliberately focusing on anywhere but me.

“You're here. I'm not throwing you out. Take the win, Zhao.”

“You look like you're heading to office hours,” I said. “The glasses.”

He touched them like he had forgotten he was wearing them. “I usually wear contacts. My eyes were tired.”

“They're cute.”

He blushed, still looking anywhere but at me. “Thank you.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Club soda.” He set the glass down. “I'm driving.”

“You're the DD at your own party?”

“Someone has to be responsible.”

“Does someone though? I’m pretty sure Toronto has Ubers.”

“I offered.”

Of course he had. He would volunteer to be the designated driver at a party thrown in his honour so that everyone else could have a good time without worrying about logistics. The people pleasing was so bone deep it was almost art.

“Well.” I picked up the cocktail menu. “I'll just have to drink enough for both of us.”

I ordered a whisky sour and watched him over the rim when it arrived.

Prince Nicky, in his cashmere and his glasses, stone cold sober at his own party, making sure everyone else was taken care of. Even here. Even now. Even with me sitting across from him in an outfit he was trying really hard not to notice.

I took a long sip and let the whisky burn and thought about what it would take to get him to stop being responsible for one single night.

8. Nico

I nursed my club soda and watched Adrian try to keep up with Sabrina. Try being the operative word.