Page 5 of The Question of Us (Fisher & Church #2)

“Um, guys?” Gazza held up his hands. “You’re supposed to be setting me a mature example for future relationships. Can we maybe take this down a notch?”

Nick and I turned as one to glare at him. The only thing we could agree on, it seemed.

Gazza’s eyes widened in response. “Or maybe not.” He stood and backed away with his hands raised. “Like I said, I’m gonna head to the studio. Much safer all around.”

“I’m going over,” I blurted, surprising even myself since I hadn’t been thinking about doing that at all until the idea suddenly popped into my head. But now that it had, it seemed a solid option, to piss Nick off if nothing else.

Nick’s grey eyes narrowed menacingly. “Going where exactly?”

“To Melbourne.” I straightened in my chair.

“I’m going to see for myself if Lee’s okay.

I might even talk to the police. There might be stuff they wouldn’t put down in writing.

” Was I also pissed at Nick and wanting to fuck with his objective head a little?

Absolutely. I was sick of his assumption that his way was the only way.

Sick of not being included in his thinking.

An eerie silence filled the room and Gazza glanced uneasily between us.

“You’re what?” Nick pinned me with a wide-eyed glare, and I suddenly felt like a stranger to him. “Since when?”

“Since... this morning,” I said primly. Like two seconds ago, if I was being honest, but Nick didn’t need to know that. He clearly hadn’t thought I needed to know about his reservations about Lee, after all.

I pushed my chair back and began collecting the empty coffee cups.

“Which you’d know if you’d bothered to really talk to me or include me in your thinking.

” A bald-faced lie if you refer to the part where I’d only just thought of the idea.

I shot him a sweet smile. “Breakfast?” Without waiting for an answer, I headed for the kitchen.

“Now wait just one minute.” Nick shot to his feet and followed me.

“This is definitely my cue to leave.” Gazza gathered his satchel from the floor. “But I have one thing to say before I leave you two love birds to peck each other’s feathers out.”

I raised a brow. “And that is?”

Gazza ran a hand over his mouth. “If you go, I’m coming with you.”

Nick groaned. “What is wrong with you people?”

I ignored him. “Why?”

Gazza’s eyes shimmered in the dappled light from the skylights above. “I think you know why. What happened... it all feels... unfinished. I can’t move on until—” He hesitated. “Honestly, I don’t know until what , only that I need to find out as much as I can, like you.”

There was a desperation to his tone that I’d never heard. But it was also the most animated I’d seen him since before it all happened.

“Fine,” I reluctantly agreed and ignored Nick’s groan of disbelief. “ If I go, you can come. But no going off on some tangent while we’re there, okay? We stick together. These guys aren’t to be messed with. Deal?”

Gazza nodded. “Deal.” He shot a concerned glance Nick’s way, then skedaddled to the studio.

The second he was gone, Nick circled the island to stand next to me. He put his back to the granite and folded his arms. If I were being honest, he looked not only angry but... frightened. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I take it you won’t be accompanying us, then?

” I turned to the refrigerator, putting my back to him.

“Scrambled, poached, or omelette?” I opened the door and grabbed goat cheese and eggs, then kicked the door shut and put them on the island, along with a chopping board, bowl, salt and pepper, and a grater.

“Fried.” Nick grabbed a frying pan from the drawer and set it none-too-lightly on the gas range before reaching for some butter. “Now answer the question. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I returned the stick of butter to the cupboard and replaced it with a spray oil. “We’ve eaten too many fried things this week. I’ll make us an omelette.”

Nick snarled, “I don’t want an omelette.” He reached for the butter again. “I want two fried eggs between a simple carbohydrate sandwich of unhealthy white toast. I might even add a slab of bacon if I feel in the mood.”

I leaned on the countertop, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly.

Then I lifted my eyes to his. “Whatever. You’re a grown man.

Your arteries are yours to fuck up. My kitchen is your kitchen.

Knock yourself out.” I popped a slice of whole-wheat bread into the toaster, then cracked three eggs into the bowl and whipped them with a frenzied action that bordered on unhinged.

I glanced Nick’s way. “So that’s it? Nothing more to say?”

He stood at the cooker, his arms folded across his chest, and said nothing.

I gave a weighty sigh. “I guess not.”

Nick’s gaze burned two holes in the side of my face, but I didn’t dare look again for fear I might need to do something about that disapproving scowl I knew he wore. Instead, I sliced some goat cheese and set another non-stick pan alongside his. I added a spray of oil and turned on the heat.

“Excuse me.” I nudged him with my elbow and he wordlessly moved over to give me room. I poured the egg mix into the pan, swirled it to cover the base, and reduced the heat. This was beyond fucking ridiculous.

“What are we? Twelve?” I spoke without looking up from the pan.

“If this is how you like to argue and discuss differences, then I’m not a fan.

I stopped giving people the silent treatment back in my thirties.

It’s petulant at the very least. Passive-aggressive and deliberately provocative at its worst. I’m long done playing these games. Waste of everyone’s fucking time.”

Again, Nick said nothing.

I shook my head, tears pricking my eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Nick. You’re really something, you know that?

” I used my spatula to move the cooked egg to the centre so the raw egg could take its place and sprinkled over the goat cheese.

When it began to melt into a deliciously gooey mess, I folded over the sides and let it cook a few seconds longer.

I was about to lift it from the hob when the flame died and two arms snaked around my waist.

“I’m sorry.” Nick’s chin landed on my shoulder and warmth ran the length of my back. He kissed my neck and pulled me against him. “I’ve been worried that you might want to do something like this, and I don’t want you to go.”

I spun in his arms, breakfast forgotten. “You made that perfectly clear.”

To his credit, Nick looked a little sheepish. “I wish you’d talked to me about it first.”

I tucked a lock of hair behind his ears. “And I wish you’d talked to me about Lee and your doubts and a lot of other stuff.”

He winced and then sighed. “Fair comment. I guess I didn’t because I was worried this was where you were heading.”

My eyebrows popped. “You were worried that I might, in fact, have an entirely different but equally valid opinion on the matter to you? And that I might actually voice said opinion? Or is it that you think my opinion is worth less than your so-called objective one? Or maybe you just want to be the only one who makes the decisions?”

Nick flinched. “Ouch.”

“Deserved and not sorry,” I said flatly.

He let that settle. “A little dramatic, just saying.”

“Fuck off.”

He smiled weakly. “All I’m saying is that maybe it would be best to leave any investigating to the authorities. These are the men responsible for Davis’s death, and Justin’s, and likely others. Leave it to people who know what they’re doing.”

I stared him down. “Like you did?”

“And look where that got us,” he reminded. “Let the police handle it.”

I raised a brow. “You mean the same police who currently say they have zero power to act and aren’t looking that direction anymore.”

Nick groaned. “Jesus, you’re relentless.

Have you forgotten this all began with Davis, and he died because of it?

You’re not Davis and it wasn’t your problem.

You were never meant to be involved, and I don’t like the idea of you stirring the pot and putting yourself back in harm’s way.

I want this to end, Mads. Is that such a bad thing?

I lost Davis. I don’t want to lose you to the same arseholes that fucked up his life and mine. Can’t you just let it go?”

I tried not to flare up but... yeah. Stable, door, horse, bolted.

Not a chance. “Yes, it was your mystery to start with. Yours and Davis’s,” I said coldly.

“But that’s not how it finished. You brought it to my door and it’s me they kidnapped.

That makes it my problem too. And what it sounds like to me is that it’s all hunky dory when you’re driving the questions and the investigation.

When you’re in control. When you have a need to know.

When you want closure. But that it’s not all right when I do? ”

Nick blinked. “No . . . I didn’t mean . . . well . . .”

I slipped from his arms and put some distance between us.

“Just to be clear, I don’t need your permission, Nick, and I’m not asking for it.

But you’re right, I’m not Davis. I’m not going to simply ignore your hurtful comments and jolly you along like you said he did.

More power to him, but that’s never been me.

If you don’t like it, then we have a problem. ”

“I never said?—”