10. Nakul

Nakul

I rake my hands through my hair for what feels like the hundredth time Sunday morning. The strands fall right back into my face, but I don’t care. It gives me something to focus on, something to do other than replaying every second of Friday night in my head. The way Judd’s lips felt against mine. The warmth of his skin under my fingers. The small, breathy noises he made that I can still hear if I let myself linger too long.

Goddamn it.

Why did I do that? What the hell was I thinking?

I work at his mother’s company , for fucksake. Judd’s got a kid. A family . I shouldn’t even be in his orbit, let alone tangling myself into his life like this. It’s messy, reckless, stupid . But no matter how hard I try to convince myself of that, I can’t stop thinking about him. The way his cheeks flushed when I kissed him. The way he looked at me afterward, like I was something he couldn’t quite understand.

I’ve never thought about a man like this before. Never felt this all-consuming pull. But with Judd? It’s like my body has decided he’s mine, and my mind is just along for the ride, trying to keep up.

The rest of the weekend was a disaster. I tossed and turned at night, unable to sleep. My conversations with Judd—so easy, so natural before—turned awkward and stilted. I tried to keep things light, to send him texts about mundane things, but his responses grew shorter and less frequent until they stopped altogether.

By Sunday evening, I feel like I am unraveling. Did I read the signs wrong? Did he regret it? Or worse, did I push him into something he didn’t want?

My stomach twists every time I think about it, but I know what I felt. That kiss wasn’t one-sided. The way he kissed me back, the way he held onto me—it was real.

But now… maybe I’ve ruined whatever we had building. And for what? A moment of weakness? A need I couldn’t keep in check?

I can’t keep pacing the tiny motel room, so I head out to explore Windsor Creek. The shops downtown are decked out for the holidays, all twinkling lights and garlands. It’s charming, in that small-town kind of way, but it doesn’t help much. I pick up a few Christmas gifts for some friends back home, trying to distract myself, but it only half-works.

I catch myself wandering into the toy section of a store, thinking about Stevie. I see a soft plush elephant and imagine her little hands clutching it, a bright smile lighting up her face. But I stop myself from buying it. That would be overstepping. Right? I barely know her. Hell, I barely know Judd.

I think about getting Judd something instead—a book, maybe, or one of those fancy notebooks he always carries around. But what if he thinks I’m trying too hard? Or worse, what if he thinks I’m trying to fix something that can’t be fixed?

Back in the motel, I shoot him a text before I can talk myself out of it:

Hey, we should talk.

The second I hit send, I regret it. My phone sits in my hand like it’s made of lead, the message taunting me. When it doesn’t show as read after an hour, I curse under my breath and toss the phone against the wall. I’m so good at messing up good things. It’s my specialty. The one reason I’m here working construction instead of playing pro football. One screw-up after another.

***

Monday morning rolls around and I try to throw myself into work. Riocen’s project is a challenge, but it’s the kind of challenge I like. It keeps my hands busy and my mind focused—at least, until I find myself working alongside Athena.

Athena is a force of nature. She’s sharp, professional, and doesn’t take bullshit from anyone. But she’s also fiercely protective of her family. I see it in the way her tone softens when she mentions Stevie, in the way she talks about her mom, Jess, and Judd. She’s intimidating, but there’s a warmth under the surface that makes me like her.

By lunchtime, though, I’m ready for a break. The tension I’ve been holding all morning is weighing on me and if I don’t start training myself to focus on something else, the rest of the week will be a nightmare. Of course, that’s when Judd walks in.

He doesn’t see me at first, his focus on a folder in his hand. But then his eyes lift and he freezes. For a moment, we just stare at each other. His expression shifts—surprise, confusion, something else I can’t quite place. And then, without a word, he turns and walks out.

Athena’s brow furrows as she watches him leave. “What was that about?” she asks, turning to me with a sharp look.

I hesitate, unsure of what to say. My silence only makes her more suspicious.

“Nakul,” she says, her brows furrowing. “What’s going on? I don’t know what happened on Friday, but if you’re doing anything to mess with my brother, I’m going to stop it right now.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair again. There’s no point in lying. “We went out on Friday night,” I admit, although she already knows that part. “And… I think I might have crossed a line.”

Her eyes narrow. “What kind of line?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I say quickly, though I’m not even sure what she’s thinking. “Look, let me talk to him, okay? If we can’t iron it out in ten minutes, you can come rescue him or whatever you need to do.”

She studies me for a long moment, her arms crossed over her chest. “Fine,” she says eventually. “But if you hurt him—”

“I won’t,” I interrupt, meeting her gaze. “I promise.”

Setting down my tools, I take a deep breath and head to the elevator. The ride up to Judd’s office feels endless, my thoughts racing the entire time. The worst part isn’t that he walked out or that Athena confronted me.

It’s the look on Judd’s face. That mix of confusion and uncertainty. He wasn’t angry or scared—just unsure, like he didn’t know what to make of me. Of us .

When the elevator dings and the doors slide open, I step out, bracing myself for whatever comes next.