Page 22 of Nathan

I sit at the counter and shovel eggs into my mouth. I’m starved. Must be all the sexercise coupled with me eating Dex’s pussy instead of steak last night, but I don’t regret a single one of my choices.

“These are pretty good, Titch,” I say, picking up a piece of crispy bacon and biting it in half. “Same time next Sunday?”

A blush creeps across her cheeks, and she wrinkles her nose. “You’ll have gotten bored of me by then, Nate. In fact, another few hours and I doubt you’ll remember my name.”

Despite the fact her entire speech comes out with a half-smile on her lips, a spear of anger shoots through me, and I tighten my hand around the fork while curling the other one into a fist. My eyes bore into hers, my jaw clenching until my teeth ache.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I snarl, wanting to maim and hurt her like she’s hurt me. It doesn’t matter that I deserve it. It doesn’t matter that my reputation as a Playboy precedes me. It doesn’t matter that her comment has validity. I’m different around her. She makes me different, and I want her to notice that on her own, but she hasn’t.

Her smile slides off her face, and her fork clatters to her plate, despite the fact she hasn’t eaten a bite. She shoves the plate to one side and climbs down off the stool.

“Well, don’t worry, Nate. I’ll be out of your hair in thirty seconds. I wouldn’t want to take up any more of your precious time.”

She stomps into the bedroom while I sit like a fucking statue and allow her to think I don’t want her here. That I don’t need her here. How has our morning turned from sweaty sex, stolen kisses, and a breakfast she cooked for me, to a petty argument that means she’s getting ready to walk out?

True to her word, Dex appears within the thirty promised seconds, with her purse slung diagonally across her body, and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She flashes me a look of complete loathing and marches to the front door, her spine erect and shoulders back as if to say, “You won’t break me, motherfucker.”

But as the door opens an inch, casting a spear of light across the oak flooring of my living room, I launch myself off the chair. My palm hits the door, slamming it shut, and my body encases hers. I grab her waist and press my lips to her ear.

“I’ll remember your name today, tomorrow, next week, next fucking month,” I whisper, tightening my hold with every word. “I’ll remember your name for the rest of my miserable fucking life, because what we had last night doesn’t happen to men like me.”

Her body, so stiff when I first put my arms around her, yields ever so slightly, and I turn her to face me. When I see how bright with unshed tears her eyes are, I want to take my balls in my hand and twist them until I pass out from the pain.

“Please stay.” I cup her trembling chin and caress her face with the tips of my fingers, relishing the softness of her skin and the fullness of her cheeks, so different to the skeletal, haunted-looking women this town is too full of. Her eyes fall shut as I continue to explore, so I do what any other asswipe of a man would do when faced with a woman they’ve hurt. I kiss her, hard and deep, sweeping my tongue inside her mouth, probing, seeking the warmth and comfort she always gives so willingly.

Then she breaks off our kiss. “I have things to do, Nate,” she says softly, crushing my hopes with those few words.

“But you haven’t finished your breakfast.” Yeah, that’ll make her stay. The offer of a cold breakfast—that she cooked. What a catch I am.

Fucking smooth, dickhead.

She offers me a faint smile. “I’ll grab something at home. Can you give me a ride back to my car, or would you rather I call a cab?”

I press my lips together and blow out an irritated breath through my nose. “No, I don’t want you to get a goddamn cab. I’ll take you… on one condition.”

Disappointment flickers across her face, and she gives a slow shake of her head. “What’s the condition?”

“You agree to come to dinner with me tonight.”

Her disappointment vanishes, replaced by surprise. Her forehead creases as she looks up at me, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Triumph rushes through me so fast it makes my head spin. I grab my wallet and keys and usher her outside. The storm has arrived, bringing with it blobs of rain that soak us within seconds, despite sprinting to the car. We drive back to the supermarket in silence, but it isn’t uncomfortable. It feels… right. We don’t need to have constant conversation to be relaxed in one another’s company—yet another thing different about Dex from every other woman I’ve dated.

I pull up next to her car and reach across her to open her door.

“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. Drive carefully.”

Once I’ve watched her walk away, I steer the car toward the exit and make a point of not looking back. If I did, I’d never leave her.

Chapter 9

Dex

Once I’ve gently lowered myself into a scalding bath, I rest my head on a folded-up towel. Every part of my body aches from all the sex I had last night. Not that I’d change a single thing, including the fight I had with Nate this morning. All that did was make us seem realer. Not that there is an us. But there is a second date, if last night counted as a date considering we never left his bedroom.

Every time I think about the last twenty-four hours, I want to hug myself, to scream, and to dance around with excitement. To hope beyond all hope that this isn’t just a one-night stand.

Nate has thoroughly ruined me. I had so many orgasms I lost count.

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