He was going to tell her the truth, whether he wanted to or not.

“Francis,” she said, voice low. “How many Golden Weekends have you attended?”

He stopped typing, eyes still on the screen. She watched him begin to chew on his bottom lip. “Define attend.”

“I saw you in one of the videos.”

“They’re my friends,” he said quietly. “I go where they go.”

Nicole turned in her seat to face him. To his credit he did the same, meeting her eye to eye. The first time she’d seen him, she’d thought he was cute. There was no denying that. It always amused her how once the surprise wore off, how fast a face could become her favorite. Starting at his hairline, she let her gaze drift downward, lingering over every feature. When Golden Weekend was over, Nicole wanted to see him again.

She truly hoped the next handful of minutes didn’t ruin all chances of that happening.

“Are you helping them with The Cruelest Jewel?” she asked. “Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

“No, of course not,” he said.

Nicole sighed again; eyes downcast. “I just”—she paused to let some frustration build in her chest and leak into her voice—“I don’t think I can believe you. All those little cryptic warnings you gave me, every time it seemed like you were holding back from telling us the truth—how can I trust you if you won’t even be honest with me now, when it’s just us?”

“I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t help them plan anything.”

“Alex thinks we can only win if the person Jewel paired us with is at our side.” She lingered over his features again, ending with looking into his eyes. “That’s you for me. We’re supposed to be together.”

“Nicole, I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“It?”

“The Cruelest Jewel,” he clarified quickly. “I’m supposed to play the game. That’s the deal.”

“So, you don’t know if Jewel is really missing or not? They didn’t tell you anything beforehand?”

“No. Not about that.”

“Then what did they tell you?”

Francis hesitated, biting his lip again.

“I knew it.” Turning away, she shook her head. “I can’t believe this. The one time I let my guard down, and this happens to me.”

“Wait, wait,” he said, taking her hand. “I can explain.”

Nicole looked at him, forcing herself not to blink. If her tears fell, it would be too much. Threatening to cry always trumped actually crying. She needed to appear on the brink of broken—he could pull her back and be her hero or push too hard and break her heart.

“What deal?” she asked, voice pitching. “What does that mean?”