Page 43 of Before I Loved You

I place the bottle on the table. “Maybe. I don’t want to scare her away, though.” I rub the condensation off the glass with my thumb. “I’ve never had this problem before.”

“Leave it to you to find the one girl who doesn’t want to be tied down.”

I scowl, running the pad of my thumb over the bottleneck. “The thing is, it feels like she’s keeping something from me.”

“Keeping something from you?” Nate raises a brow. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. It’s just this feeling I’m getting, and when I tried to talk to her about it…” I shake my head, bringing the glass bottle back to my lips.

Nate’s eyes drift over to the dance floor, locking on Natalie. “Your gut instinct is usually right.” He turns his attention to me. “Just make sure she knows that you’re there for her and that she can talk to you. That’s all you can do. Sometimes, there are things that aren’t easy to talk about. Things that haunt them.”

If anyone would know what that would be like, it’s Nate.

“Move over,” Jason grunts to Nate, sliding on the seat beside him.

“And where were you?” Nate asks. The two of them sharing a booth look like two full-grown-ass adults trying to fit on a kid-sized bench.

Jason shrugs, bringing his drink to his lips. “Just dancing.”

I glimpse at Nate, and we both exchange a knowing smirk. Vanessa.

“By yourself?” Nate asks with an arrogant grin.

Jason glares at him, finishing off his beer, not saying a damn word.

“Not to make things worse for you”—Nate looks back at me—“but you have fans coming this way.”

I sit up, seeing a group of overzealous girls approaching.

Not what I need right now.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s him,” one of the girls squeals.

Somebody save me.

“Hi, ladies,” I say, showing a tight smile.

“Wow. You’re even better looking in person,” the one closest to me affirms as she tries to shove her cleavage in my face.

My cheeks heat up in embarrassment. I’ve always hated this kind of attention. The kind that comes from ogling and inappropriate comments. I’m just praying no one asks me to sign their boobs tonight.

Yeah, it’s happened before, and it’s pretty damn awkward when your mom is standing beside you.

“Are these seats taken?” another one asks.

I look to Nate for backup, who picks up the water beside him, guzzling it.

“They are.” Sarah squeezes around the girls and slides on the seat beside me. There’s not much room, so her body grazes up against mine, and her hand lands firmly on my thigh, staking her claim. After she smiles triumphantly at them, the girls sulk, walking away disappointed.

“Remind me to never mess with you.” Nate chuckles.

She smiles, but then, remembering she’s touching me and, more importantly, that she’s mad at me, she instantly separates herself from me, leaving an inch between us. We sit like this for an hour, her presence beside me like a comfort my body has been craving. Just being close to her without even touching her does something to me.

The waitress drops a few drinks on the table, and Sarah reaches for the glass closest to her, taking a sip before promptly spitting it out.

“Shit,” she hisses. “I thought it was water.”

My brows furrow. “Don’t like vodka?”

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