Overexposed

Nick nodded and they both watched Harry walk away. Well, Nick watched Harry. Izzie watched Nick.

She hadn’t noticed at first—she’d been too frazzled herself—but Nick appeared tense. The muscles in his neck were rock hard, his jaw jutted out stiffly. Beneath his wickedly tight black T-shirt, his broad shoulders were squared in his military posture and his hands were fisted at his sides.

Interesting.

If she had to guess, she’d say he wasn’t particularly happy to meet her. It was as if he actively disliked her…which didn’t make much sense.

The only reason he could have for already disliking her was that he had somehow recognized her. That he’d looked into her eyes, revealed behind the mask, and seen something familiar. Or heard a note in her voice that he’d heard before. He certainly hadn’t seemed very happy with Izzie-the-baker when she’d practically pushed him out of the bakery the other evening and imagined he’d convinced himself she was at best a pain in the ass and at worst a complete tease.

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