Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(59)

“Somebody has been contacting one of my photographers and having him follow Nicole Lane.”

“Alessi. She never changed her name,” I said, my blood simmering at the mention of her name. “We knew she was being watched.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“I’m going to text message you some pictures right now. Look at them while we’re on the phone.”

At the sound of the vibrate, I pulled my phone down and looked at the text. It was a picture of Nicole and me on her balcony. I recognized it as the day she was inspecting it. In the photo we were standing very close to each other, looking into each other’s eyes. To an outsider it looked like we were about to kiss. The next picture was more of the same. Close. Almost kissing. My heart hammered. The way she was looking at me in those pictures was so f*cking intimate. From the look in her eyes . . . from the look in my eyes, there was more than just lust going on there. We looked like we were . . . holy shit. I couldn’t even bring myself to admit that, even though for the first time in a long time I wanted to explore the possibility. Under different circumstances, I would have. Could have.

“Your photographer took this?” I demanded.

“That’s the thing, Vic, he didn’t take these. These were brought to me. The ones he’s taken of her have been just her doing everyday things.”

“Who brought these to you? What did they say?”

“You know I can’t give you my source. I’m showing these to you because you’re my friend and I’m not going to put them out there, but I can’t promise you that other blogs will extend the same courtesy.”

Fuck. I sighed and closed my eyes. We were just talking. Just talking, but I knew they could potentially turn it into something more.

“I have more coming in tomorrow morning. I’ll call you if I feel like it’s anything you need to see.”

“Call me if it’s anything with her at all.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Q.”

“Of course.”

As we hung up, my parents’ gate opened. I watched Oliver’s black Cadillac pull up and Nicole’s white Prius follow behind him. I felt a pang in my heart at the sight of her. She was so beautiful. I thought about the images on my phone. I remembered the very moment they were taken. I remembered my desperation and how badly I’d wanted to kiss her, touch her, hold her, f*ck her. Make her mine. I’d gotten just a taste that day. Just a hint of what her lips felt like against mine. Our fate was set that day. Maybe even before then. Maybe it’d been set the day she stepped into that goddamn conference room wearing that tight-fitting dress and looking at me with her f*ck me eyes. Whatever the case was, I would take care of this. I wouldn’t tell her about the pictures. Not yet. Not until I had more information. The last thing I needed was a worried Nicole.

“Hey Chicken,” I said as my sister walked over to me. She rolled her eyes and gave me a hug.

“Hey Vic. I see you invited Nicole.”

“She can’t go out to breakfast without being hounded. It was the least I could do,” I said. Estelle shot me a look that said she didn’t buy my story. I shrugged.

“Who’s the girl?” Oliver asked as he greeted me.

“Nicole.”

“The one married to that guy?”

“The one who was married to that guy,” I said, at the same time as Nicole walked up and smiled at my words. She looked so f*cking good in that long black dress she wore. I wanted to peel it off her and discover what she had underneath.

“Oliver,” he said, offering his hand for her to shake. I wanted to kick his ass when he smiled at her like he was trying to flirt with her. “I hear I owe you a thank you for helping my wife and brother-in-law install my TV.”

Nicole laughed. “Victor did most of the work. I just sat back and watched him mount it and drank the wine Estelle offered.”

My heart hopped when she looked over at me with that flirty gleam in her eyes as she said it. Fuck. This girl did things to me. She did things to me and I realized something.

The woman I would have to let go of if I wanted to keep my career was the same woman I didn’t want to live without.

How’s that for life issues? I was half tempted to write a letter to Jensen Talks and see what my friend had to say about this f*cked-up situation in the newspaper column he wrote. Oliver went inside and Estelle followed after she exchanged a tight hug with Nicole.

“Where did you bring me?” she asked, looking at the house.

“My parents’ house.”

From the look of sheer panic that crossed her face, I thought for a second time that maybe bringing her here was a bad idea. It was a good idea before I’d gotten that call, but now I knew what was to happen, I felt every part of me breaking down slowly, like a car running out of gas. I hated that feeling, and when Nicole’s smile dropped and she frowned, I felt it punch me in the gut.

“You really need to come with a warning label,” she said as she stepped in front of me. “A serious warning label. Are you regretting your decision? I can still leave.” She brought her hand up to me face. She was so f*cking sweet, thinking of my feelings before her own. Comforting me even though she had no clue what I was thinking. I closed my eyes and leaned into her touch; it was so soft, warm and inviting. I never wanted to leave. I never wanted to let go of this moment. I cleared my throat and straightened. What the f*ck was going on with me?