I smile at the phone. Nick notices and walks over. Before I can hide the message, he sees it. “You know he’s using you, right? You seem a little bit too nice for him.” I turn and stare at Nick. I don’t know what to say, so I just continue looking at him. The action makes him squirm. He looks away from me, and glances back every few seconds, searching for the words to explain. “There are guys that prey on girls like you, that’s all I’m saying. Be careful, okay?”
I don’t blink. I gape at him as my arms fall to my sides. My eyebrows lift up into my bangs and disappear. “Are you bipolar or something? Why bother acting like you give a rat’s ass about me, when you don’t? Deegan’s not like that. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.” A little harsh, yeah, but I’m not taking pointers from Nick Ferro. Screw that. My body tenses and somehow I’m in his face.
Those blue eyes remain locked on mine. He doesn’t flinch or deny anything. “I know you hate me. I didn’t expect you to listen. I just hoped you would.” He turns away and sucks in air like it’s his dying breath. “Come on. We better get down there.”
I follow Nick to the door, absolutely livid. It takes every ounce of restraint not to fight with him, but the wedding is in an hour and he’s right. We need to get over there. There are shots that Sophie will want and I don’t want to miss them.
Nick grabs the handle and twists. I see him pull the door and his shoulder jerk. “What the…?” Nick repeats the action, but the door won’t open.
At first I think he’s messing around, trying to make me smile or something, but he’s not. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s stuck.”
“I see that.” Shoving him out of the way, I try. The door doesn’t give. I glance at Nick and we both dart for the only other way out—the window.
The building has older windows, the kind with the metal lock that swivels between the top and bottom panes, holding them together when it’s locked. He tries to unlock it, but the metal doesn’t move either. Nick glances at me with fury in his eyes. “Did you do this?” He practically yells in my face.
Tilting my head to the side I give him a look that says his question is stupid. “Yes, I locked the window and the door so we’d be stuck in the room together. Are you mental?” I snap. “Of course I didn’t do it! Move, let me try.”
“You’re too weak. It’s been glued shut.”
After pushing and pulling on the lock I turn slowly and look at him. “Glued?”
“Yeah, look at the metal. There’s super glue all over it. You can see the white haze it leaves when it dries.” Nick points and then walks across the room to grab something while I stare blankly from the window and to the door.
She didn’t. Oh God. If Sophie thinks I might do something I’ll regret for the rest of my life, would she do this? I would have said there was no way, but I must have given her the idea. She locked us in here. I have to get out. I have to win. If I don’t show up at her wedding, I’ll be the worst best friend ever. Screw the bet. I can’t do this to her. I mutter, “I didn’t think she...” Panic laces my voice. Nick studies me speculatively. His eyes take in every detail from my rounded shoulders to the way my fingertips barely touch my lips.
“What? Tell me.”
I don’t know why, but I answer him. “I think Sophie did this.”
“No, she wouldn’t have. That’s insane.” Nick shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re getting to that chapel. If we pull the lock off the frame, the window will open. We can call down for help or I can lower you down. Whatever you want.” I watch his face for a second, wondering why he’d help me. It’s like he can read my thoughts, because he says, “No matter what you think of me, I’m not a total asshole. I’m not ruining your friend’s wedding by neither of us showing up.”
Nick tries a pencil under the lock, but it crumbles under pressure—as do the next few objects he tries. He needs a piece of metal. That will pull it apart. “What if Sophie doesn’t want us there?”
“Then she would have fired us. She’s just trying to get us to slow down and stop fighting. If we get there at the last second, we can’t fight. She’s smart. I’ll give her that. What bride walks around with super glue?” Nick shakes his head and breaks another pencil. Shards of wood go flying.
I hand him a letter opener I found in the desk. “Try this.”
He takes it. “Thanks. This should work.” And it does. Although it bends into an L-shape, Nick is able to pry the metal lock completely free from the old wooden window. It was held in with little nails that go flying as it comes free. Nick grins at me and says, “Come on.” I step closer to him as he pulls on the sash.
It doesn’t move.
He pulls again and swears, banging his fist into the wall. “She glued it.” He curses again as his fingers trace the entire lower windowpane. The glue goes all the way around.
“No. She wouldn’t.” My voice is too high, too airy. I sound desperate and hurt. I guess I am. Nick steps back to let me see for myself. I trace the glue with my fingertips, panic building in my stomach.
Nick pulls his phone out and calls someone, but says nothing. A moment later he hangs up. “The front desk isn’t answering.”