"I'll see you at home," I manage, my voice still rough with need. "I need to check if Nick needs me to stick around for a bit."

She smiles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. My hand finds her jaw as I lean in, kissing her one last time, slowly. Her lips part beneath mine, hands gripping my waist, pulling me closer like she can't help herself.

Fuck me. Literally and figuratively because I'm about to implode.

It takes everything in me to pull back, my lips lingering a second too long. She exhales shakily, those green eyes meeting mine.

"Go," she whispers with a small laugh, the sound soft and warm. "Nick's waiting for you."

I nod, dragging a hand through my hair in an attempt to steady myself. As she heads for the door, I catch one last glimpse of her smile.

Nick is stacking boxes, his knowing smirk already in place.

"You're not exactly subtle, you know that?" he teases, his tone light but genuine.

I huff out a laugh, shaking my head as I grab a towel to busy my restless hands. The familiar motion helps ground me, even as my mind keeps drifting back to Nora.

"Yeah, yeah. You done?"

Nick nods toward a bouquet sitting on the bar—roses and something purple I can't name, wrapped in brown paper. "Just about. Got a date tonight."

"Kat?" I ask, already knowing the answer. The slight flush creeping up his neck says everything his words won't.

"I don't kiss and tell," he shoots back, though his grin betrays him. The happiness radiating off him is almost tangible. It's good to see him like this, letting someone in.

"Good luck, Romeo." I toss the towel onto the counter, my phone heavy in my pocket as Jay's missed call nags at my conscience.

"Don't need it," he says, but his smile gives away the nerves beneath his confidence.

"You need me for anything else?" I ask, already reaching for my phone. The weight of what I need to do tonight settles in my chest like lead.

Nick waves me off. "Nah, I'm good. Head out."

The mid-afternoon air hits me as I step outside. I pull out my phone to a screen of missed calls and text messages. I'm dialing Jay's number and my knuckles are already itching for what's coming. The phone rings once before he picks up.

"Well, well. He lives," Jay says dryly. "I was about to send a search party."

"I need you to meet me at the pier at six," I cut in, my voice clipped. The warmth from my moment with Nora drains away, replaced by cold purpose.

There's a pause, and Jay's voice drops, cautious. "The pier?"

"I need a favor," I say, my grip tightening on the phone until my knuckles turn white. Images of Evan's phone, of what he did, flash through my mind. "Setting an asshole straight."