Ch47

NOVA

I trace the grain of the wooden coffee table with the tip of my finger. The anger that flared in my chest a moment ago is slowly being replaced by a cold, sinking feeling.

"If she sends it," I say quietly, not looking up, "it won't just be between you and me, Enzo. If she sends it to Noah... or to my parents..."

"I know," he interrupts. "I've already thought about that. Believe me, it's all I've been thinking about since I walked out of that room."

"And?" I finally look at him.

"And I'll deal with it," he says, his jaw clenching. "If she sends it to your brother, I'll take whatever he has to dish out. I'll take a punch, I'll take a broken nose... hell, I'll take whatever he wants. But I am not going to let her ruin my promise to you. I am not going to let her dictate who I talk to, who I care about, or what I do with my life."

Well, I should take his word. He does sound sincere. Oh God. It’s terrifying how easily he can make me believe him, even when I'm not supposed to, given the situation.

"Let's hope she doesn't make you break your promise." I murmur, though a weak smile tugs at the corner of my lips.

Enzo lets out a breath, shifting closer until his shoulder brushes mine. "I don't know with my mother. But I'd guess... she'll try."

He reaches out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His touch is softer than I expect, lingering against my jawline.

"I'm not ending anything. I'll give you what you want, Nova. What I promised you." he says. "I know I messed up today. Truth be told, I thought I was being smart, playing her game to keep her off our backs. But I should have known better than to give her ammunition. I should have just walked out."

"You did walk out," I point out. "Eventually."

"Too late," he mutters, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. "Too late."

I lean into his touch, because for all my common sense telling me to put distance between us, every fiber of my being just wants to forget about his mother, the recording.

"If she does send it," I say. "I'm sure we'll deal with it together."

Enzo nods slowly, his hand sliding down to wrap his fingers securely around mine.

"Together," he agrees. "Deal."

Before I can answer, the front door open in the hallway. The sound makes us both freeze.

"Nova? You home?" Noah’s voice echoes from the entryway, accompanied by the clatter of keys dropping onto the small table by the door.

My eyes widen, darting to Enzo. "Oh, God," I whisper, scrambling to put a reasonable amount of space between us on the couch just as footsteps approach the living room.

Enzo drags a hand over his face, letting out a low groan. "Well," he mutters under his breath, "guess we're about to find out how good our timing really is."

Noah rounds the corner, tossing his bag onto the armchair. He doesn’t pay us a second glance, entirely accustomed to walking in and finding Enzo lounging around our house. He plops down on the opposite sofa, slouching back and rubbing the back of his neck.

I swallow hard, forcing my fingers to stop trembling against my knees. Act normal, I tell myself. Just breathe.

"Hi," I manage.

Noah blinks, shifting his gaze over to me. He tilts his head slightly. "You okay?"

"I am," I say quickly.

Noah narrows his eyes. "You look pale."

My gaze involuntary flickers toward Enzo, terrified that my face is broadcasting every single detail of the last twenty minutes... his mother, the recording, the vile things Enzo supposedly said about me. I force my eyes back to my brother. "I'm fine."

Noah doesn't look convinced, but before he can interrogate me further, he shifts his attention to the other end of the room. He looks at Enzo, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't tell me you were coming over."

Enzo shifts against the cushions, his posture casual. "My mom appeared."

Noah lets out a snort. "Liar."

Enzo nods slowly, a dry, self-deprecating smile touching the corner of his mouth.

Noah laughs, shaking his head. "What, you were expecting her?"

Enzo lets out a short, humorless laugh of his own, shaking his head. "Usually the bitch gives three to four days notice before she comes."

"I see," Noah says, grinning slightly at the casual insult. He doesn't know the half of it.

Then, Noah’s expression shifts, and he turns his attention back to me. "What about Caleb?"

My stomach twists. I frown, my hands curling into fists in my lap. "He's fine."

"Did you speak to him today?" Noah presses.

Caleb. Why is Noah bringing up Caleb? He doesn't like the guy. He's made it clear. What's his concern if I speak to him?

"None of your business," I snap.

"Nova, I'm trying to make conversation. You don't be too uptight. I'm putting the past behind us. I'm being nice."

I push myself up from the couch, needing to leave this place before I scream, or worse, before I burst into tears right in front of both of them.

"I'm going to make something," I say, my voice tight as I avoid looking at Enzo's gaze tracking my movement. "You're hungry?"

Noah shakes his head without looking away from his phone. "No."

"Okay," I murmur. "And you don't have to be nice to me. It's okay if we're not speaking. Don't fucking fake the niceness. I'll be fine."

"Nova..."

"Noah please. If we're going to be cool, we'll be cool. But don't fake forgiveness. Tell me if you still hate what I did and can't stand me. I'm your sister not some chick you're being forced to make up with."