Except that until a couple of months ago, Fiona would know if he was sick, and would check in on him.
“Lay your ass down. Oh, but drink this first.” Tara handed him the mug. “Ginger and lemon. It should help with your stomach. You’re staying here until you feel better.”
“And in the morning—the reasonable morning—I’ll grab you some things from your hotel,” Nathan said.
Nick was too tired to argue further. Not that he wanted to. “At least show me to the guest room, so I’m not disturbing you.” The request was appropriate, but it tasted odd.
The shadow that passed over Tara’s face said she agreed.
Or he was still feverish and imagined it.
“This way.” Nathan gestured.
Nick grabbed his blankets and tea and followed him into the other room. He settled into the fresh bed, and exhaustion sank in quickly. Maybe it was a good thing he was staying here.
And it was, without question, fortunate wasn’t sleeping with them. Sex was one thing. His hosts being friendly and concerned wasn’t even odd. Passing out in another couple’s bed because he was a little woozy?
Not cool.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
NATHAN LOOKED UP FROM his sketch at the sound of feet shuffling through carpet. “Afternoon, Rip Van Winkle.”
“Thanks.” Nick’s smile was tight. “It's still Friday, right?”
“Friday in the year 2348.”
Nick raised an eyebrow, but the tension faded from his face. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You’re up.” Tara appeared behind Nick.
He glanced over his shoulder, then turned toward her. “I am. Thank you for taking care of me last night and this morning.”
“Of course. We're not heartless.” Tara’s disposition matched the bright sunlight outside.
“Never thought it for a second.” Even being sick, Nick pulled off smooth without a hitch.
Nathan shoved down the sliver of jealousy. Of course Nick was going to give Tara more attention. Nathan wasn’t worried about her reaction.
He wouldn’t mind if things were a little more equal when it came to Nick.
The thought struck him hard, and he blinked it away. “Liz said your first meal should be bland and basic, until you know you can stomach more,” Nathan said.
Nick glanced over his shoulder. “I’m guessing that doesn’t include coffee.”
“Probably not.” The instant Tara spoke, Nick focused on her again. “You can have more ginger and lemon tea.”
“Mmm... Yummy.” Nick sounded less than enthusiastic.
Nathan knew he was teasing, but it rubbed him wrong. He’d finish his sketching later. He crossed the room and brushed past Tara and Nick. “I’ll make you some lunch.”
“Thank you.” Nick sounded sincere, but Nathan’s mood was already drifting south.
The three made their way into the kitchen. Nick settled into the breakfast nook while Tara and Nathan moved around the kitchen.
“I’m feeling a little spoiled. Sleeping my day away. Being waited on. You both need to tell me how to make this up to you,” Nick said.
Tara waved the comment off. “It’s not a big deal. You’d do the same if the situation were reversed.”
For Tara, he might. Nathan didn’t expect he’d see the same courtesy. What was wrong with him today? This mood came out of nowhere. Inviting Nick over had been his idea. Not that anyone else seemed to mind, but now he was sulking?
It wasn’t possessiveness or anything like that. He loved Tara more than anything, but this didn’t make him feel like he was losing that—losing her. If he examined his reactions, there was no hidden fear that she’d walk away with Nick.
Nathan couldn’t put his finger on what was bothering him. Pettiness, perhaps.
He and Tara brought food and plates to the table, and joined Nick.
“This has been strange, but fun,” Nick said. “Even with the allergic reaction.”
Tara nibbled on her toast. “How so?”
“After our parents died, I gave up a lot of my social life for Fiona. For my career—”
“Don’t.” The words tugged at something new in Nathan, and he clenched his fist. It sounded too much like his mother, once he’d found her.
Nick looked at him, puzzled. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t blame anyone for your decisions but yourself.”
Tara cleared her throat and gave him a look.
“I’m not.” Nick sounded hesitant.
Nathan wouldn’t go off on him about this. Nick’s words weren’t meant to cast blame. But he couldn’t let it slide. He had to explain. “It’s in the phrasing. I gave it up for... But that’s not true. Fiona would have let you have a life. Business isn’t keeping you from living, since you’re still conducting business while you’re here. It was your decision.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.” Nick sounded standoffish.
Tara set her knife down, and it clattered against her plate. “I don’t think it’s that black and white. Would you say the same thing to me?” She looked at Nathan.
He didn’t understand how the two were at all similar. “Why would I?”
“I make a lot of decisions based on how it impacts my family. The auction the other night—I did it to help my mother. I didn’t want to be there.”
Nathan didn’t like the turn this was taking. “You believed in the cause, or you would have told her no. And that was a night out of your life, not the blanket statement of I gave up my social life.”
“But you’re talking about scope, not content.” An edge lined Tara’s voice.
Nathan struggled for the words to explain. It wasn’t the same at all, and why she was jumping to Nick’s defense over a harmless analysis?
Nathan searched her face, and she stared back, challenge in her gaze.
“Did I miss anything important in competition news?” Nick’s casual question added barbs to the tension in the air.
Tara’s normal, genuine smile was back, and she turned to him. “I didn't think you’d still be following it.”
“Of course I am. I'm rooting for the two of you.”
“Only because Parker isn’t in the running anymore.” The bitter retort slipped out without Nathan’s permission, and he mentally winced.
Nick shrugged. “I won’t deny that. But he’s out, you’re still in, and you were second on my list anyway. Last Friday of the month means announcing the next big face-off. What do you have to do?”
At the end of each month, before voting happened, the channels were given individualized challenges. Several of them involve teaming up with another competitor and streaming to both channels at once
“Funny you should mention favorites,” Tara said. “This one’s a two-part challenge. We have to post a request video—we’re recording in a few hours and everyone will release at the same times—saying which other competitor we’d most like to work with.”
Nathan was pretty pleased with their solution, too. He didn’t expect it would be unique, but it would keep things friendly.
“That has the potential to cause friction,” Nick said.
It did, but it wouldn’t in their case.
“Do you mind if I watch? I promise to stay in the background and be quiet and behave.” Nick looked at Tara. Not that he’d spent much time looking elsewhere.
And she was eating up the attention. “Don’t mind at all.”
That gnawing was back in Nathan’s chest. The not-jealousy that he couldn’t otherwise define.
TARA SAT ON THE COUCH with her back to Nathan, his arm draped over her shoulder, and her legs resting on Nick’s lap.
If she thought too much about the setup, she’d question it. She was comfortable and no one was complaining, so she wasn’t thinking about it.
“You two are popular,” Nick said.
Nathan squeezed Tara’s arm. “Because we’re awesome.”
They’d hooked her laptop to the TV in the living room, so they c
ould watch all the contestants’ videos together without huddling around a desk.
She and Nathan opted to go the neutral route with their video—they’d love a chance to work with any of their talented fellow contestants. They were even happy to fly someone out here to get inked.
It was more of a thought-that-counts gesture than an offer. Rinslet was covering travel expenses. This was the first competition round where they’d done that, though, and Tara was happy to foot the bill if it meant getting to meet another competitor.
The three of them were watching the video for Jeremy Rocks, and it was the third clip requesting the chance to work with Tara and Nathan.
“Truth time. Now that the cameras aren’t rolling, who would you actually choose?” Nick traced a lazy path along Tara’s shin with his thumb. Did he know he was doing that?
Tara leaned her head back to look at Nathan. “I can think of a couple. You?”
“One of the new ones. The woman who does the abandoned building tours. Goldie’s Abandoned Building Exploration.” Nathan reeled the answer off without pause.
Tara had seen plenty of old buildings in her life, but that did sound interesting. Would picking through abandoned motels and restaurants be as creepy in real life as Barbara made it look in the video? “That might be cool. I was thinking the gamer, Kel Plays the Obscure, but you’re making me reconsider.”
“Why Kel?” Nick asked. “He’s entertaining, but that would be viewers watching you watch him. I think you drill too many levels deep on the observation deck, and it loses something.”
Tara chuckled. “It would. But I figured we’d play something either co-op or against him. Besides, he commissions a lot of original art, and I’d love to see what he’d have us put on him.”
The current clip finished, and the list of recommendations based on their views came up. One of the thumbnails had Tara’s picture, and her good mood vanished into the fist that clenched around her gut. Why Tara Bianchi Needs to be Kept Away...
She was barely aware of pushing the mouse cursor toward the video until Nathan covered her hand. “You know better than to click the hate videos, Bella.”
“I do.” She gave a strained chuckle. “I only wanted to read the rest of the title. Find out who exactly I’m not supposed to go near. Just give me a peek. I promise I’ll be all right.”
Nathan let go of her hand. “Your call.”
His doubt made her hesitate, but she couldn’t help herself. If she didn’t click now, it would gnaw at her. She let the video play.
The full title was Why Tara Bianchi Needs be Kept Away from Jeremy Rocks.
The channel’s pretty pink and purple logo flashed on screen, followed by a photo of Tara and Marco, from their wedding.
Her stomach twisted in on itself.
A computerized female voice overlapped the image. “Tara Bianchi. Socialite. Heiress. Whore.”
“Tara.” Warning lined Nick’s tone.
She held up a finger. She was watching this bullshit piece.
“A woman who can’t contain her libido, who wields her body as a weapon, has no place in this competition. Let alone working with a respectable band like Jeremy Rocks. She seeks to tear apart families, lives, and moral people.”
The slideshow of Tara’s public life continued, while the digital irritation talked over it. “Married to a favorite member of parliament, it didn’t take long before her wandering eyes threatened to destroy his career.”
Tara’s blood boiled like lava in her veins, and she missed portions of what the video was saying. Even though the public didn’t know she’d had a poly relationship with Marco before he got into politics, his cheating was in no way his fault.
She hated the whisper of a lying bitch voice that asked are you sure?
“Even now,” the voice said, “Her infidelity is shining light on the things Marco was driven to. Including seeking solace with another woman. If this is what she did to a man she claimed to love, imagine what she’d do to Jeremy Rocks. Seducing. Fucking with them. Coming between them—”
The video stopped abruptly, and she realized Nathan had shut it off.
“Breathe and take your hand off the mouse.” His voice was quiet and sympathetic.
“Fuck her.” Fury poured from Tara. “Fuck her and her synthesized voice, and the fact that she's too cowardly to even say the words on her own, and her bullshit perspective.”
And fuck the part of Tara that remembered the past, and the pit she’d sunk into, believing bullshit like that.
And fuck the asshole who released that list and gave the haters a whole new reason to say her name.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE HATE VIDEOS GREW in number and venom when Rinslet announced that Jeremy and Matthew of Jeremy Rocks would be joining Tara and Nathan for a live tattooing.
Nathan was worried about Tara. She laughed it off, but hurt lingered in her eyes from the time she woke until she went to sleep.
He convinced Tara to avoid most of the response vids, but it was impossible to ignore the vast quantity of thumbnails with her name and image attached to slurs in the titles.
The week between matches being made and the filming date were hectic. Nathan forced Tara away from the email, so he could filter the hate messages.
She insisted she was a big girl, she’d seen them before.
He pointed out that didn’t mean she had to subject herself to them. Besides, she needed to be finalizing the design for Matthew, based on his request and sample art. Which was a rough sketch of an octopus-headed man, with the text Think Cthulhu.
When the day of the live stream arrived, Tara paced the shop, pausing every few seconds to tug her braid.
Nathan hated seeing her like this. Why wasn’t there anything he could offer, to ease her stress, beyond it’ll get better?
The front door swung open, and she jumped.
This wasn’t like her at all. Nathan frowned.
Nick strolled into the shop, and some tension seemed to fade from Tara’s posture.
A bitter mixture of relief and jealousy tickled Nathan’s senses. He stuffed the reaction deep down, under the dozen or so reasons the sight of Nick made Tara calmer, and the reminder Nick was here for her.
“Hey.” Nick’s grin was friendly. “They’re not here yet?”
Nathan shook his head. “Any minute now.”
Rinslet flew Jeremy and Mathew to Italy for this competition spot. Today was tattoo filming, and tomorrow night, the band was booked in a local bar that offered live music. Nathan would film both.
“Awesome. I hope you don’t mind. I was in the area, and thought I’d use my connections—the two of you—to meet these guys,” Nick said.
Tara grabbed his arm and pulled him further into the room. “Don’t mind at all. Nathan’s trying to distract me. You can help.”
Concern whispered over Nick’s face. “From what?”
“Same old stuff—hate mail.” Her tone implied it was no big deal.
Nathan saw the way her mouth tightened when she said it. “The haters just aren’t ready for Tara’s amazingness.”
“Fuck them.” Nick’s disdain was almost tangible.
With that kind of vehemence, Nathan didn’t mind him being here after all.
The door opened again, and Tara’s spine went ramrod straight. Was she expecting someone to walk in and confront her personally? After the graffiti a month ago, he didn’t blame her.
She managed a tight smile and mostly hid her tension when Jeremy and Mathew walked in, with a young by between them.
If Nathan was forced to admit it, and it wouldn’t take much, Jeremy and Mathew were sexy-hot in person. Both had muscled arms accentuated by T-shirts. Jeremy was thinner, with a long goatee, and ink wrapping up his neck, and down his arms.
Mathew was a few inches taller, with broader shoulders. The exposed portions of his arms were tattoo free, but Nathan knew from concert videos his back was a canvas.
“Sorry if we’re late,” Jeremy said. He
stepped forward and shook Nathan’s hand and then Tara’s.
“You’re fine.” Tara assured them. She knelt so she was eye-level with the boy. “I don’t recognize this member of the band. Do you get carded a lot in clubs?” Her tone was kind.
“I’m Ben, and I’m six,” he said proudly.
Mathew wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. “He’s my son.”
“I didn’t realize...” Nathan let the thought trail off. That was probably intentional—keeping any mention of Ben from their online life.
Jeremy smiled. “Good. If you didn’t know, hopefully no one else did either. We try to keep our private lives drama-free.”
The way he phrased it made Nathan wonder if they were a couple. Not that he cared beyond curiosity and hoping they were happy together if that was the case.
“I’m super psyched you’re doing this for me.” Mathew turned to Tara. “I meant everything I said in our video. Your work is amazing, and the proof you sent me... Wow.”
He’d said that in his reply as well, when she emailed him the art, but hearing it in person drove home the sincerity.
Tara’s smile relaxed. “Thanks. We’re looking forward to seeing you two perform live.”
“Pft.” Mathew waved the comment off. “I’ve heard us live dozens of times. You get used to it.”
“This is Nick.” Nathan gestured. “Jeremy and Ben are welcome to sit out here during the actual tattoo work.”
Nick stood and exchanged handshakes with them. “Pleasure to meet you. Huge fans of your work.”
“Nick is Fiona’s brother,” Tara said.
Nathan wasn’t sure why that mattered. Maybe it was to make Nick seem more like one of the gang?
A whisper of a frown crossed Jeremy’s face. “I met Fiona the during the first challenge. Sorry to hear about the trouble they went through.”
“Me too.” Nick nodded.
With any luck, Nathan and Tara weren’t the next in line for a similar fate. The thought dug under his skin, and he struggled to shake it.
“Anyway, should we do a rundown before we get started? Make sure we’re all on the same page?” Tara’s voice was too bright. Too cheerful.
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