Page 26 of Nathan

“I want to go, please,” I say, my voice small and quiet.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Nate says. “We only just got here.”

How do I begin to explain my feelings to him without spilling the entire details of my sorry-ass life? However attracted Nate is to me, he’ll run a mile if I allow him a peek of my reality. I can’t stay here, eating this disgustingly overpriced food and drink, and pretend it’s okay. It isn’t okay. Not by a long shot.

Play it cool, Dex.

“The prices are ridiculous,” I say. “Why don’t I cook us a meal back at my place?”

Nate scratches his cheek, confusion scoring his handsome face. “Stop worrying. It’s on me.”

“It’s not about who’s paying,” I mutter. “That bottle of wine would pay a family’s food bill for a month. A single bottle of wine. I’m sorry, Nate, but I can’t do it.”

“Jesus.” He grimaces. “Chill the fuck out, Titch. I never took you for one of those principled types.”

Irritation prickles my skin. “Why do you say principled as though it’s a curse word? I appreciate the value of money, Nate, because, unlike you, I don’t fucking have enough of it.”

I clap a hand over my mouth, the horror at how much I’ve revealed widening my eyes. Nate, in response, narrows his.

“What do you mean?”

I inwardly curse. You’re an idiot, Dex. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. Please, let’s just go.” I shove his arm, but I may as well have been trying to move a marble statue.

“Is this why you’re working a second job?”

Lying isn’t my style, so I say nothing, instead worrying my lip with my teeth and staring into middle distance somewhere over his shoulder.

Nate grazes the back of his hand over my cheek, the caress so warm, so tender, that the urge to spill every worry, every panicked moment that keeps me up at night is so strong, I have to clamp my jaw shut. Nate isn’t my boyfriend. He isn’t even a friend. He’s just a guy I’ve panted over for months. A guy I’ve spent a hot, sweaty night in bed with, followed by this fuck-up of a so-called date.

One thing is for sure: there won’t be a second one.

“Talk to me.”

I close my eyes for a moment, but they fly open when Nate puts his mouth on mine. It isn’t an urgent, passionate kiss like the one he gave me in the car. It’s a gentle kiss meant to coax and reassure.

When he draws back, my smile is tinged with an apology. “I bet you didn’t expect tonight to turn into an impromptu episode of Dr. Phil.” I force a chuckle, determined to put him off the scent. “Forget it. I’m an idiot. Let’s order.”

Nate’s hand slices through the air. “We’re not ready,” he snaps.

I frown, then realize he’s talking to the approaching server. The man spins on his heel and heads back the way he came from, the move so smooth that being dismissed in such a manner must happen to him a lot.

Nate stares at me without saying a word, his eyes roving over my face, although I don’t have a clue what he’s hoping to find. Answers, maybe. Well, too bad. He won’t get them from me.

After a few seconds, he sighs, scooches down the bench, stands, and holds out his hand.

“Come with me, Titch.”

“Where to?”

His lips twist to the side. “Get your ass moving and you’ll find out.”

Chapter 11

Nate

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You are a fucking idiot. A self-absorbed prick with your head so far up your own asshole, you can lick your frigging tonsils.

I should have realized someone who works their butt off all week for a jerk like Bernard, then spends their weekends slaving away at a supermarket checkout isn’t exactly flush with cash. But that isn’t the only reason taking Dex to my go-to haunt was the wrong move. Dex is different, unique, special. She isn’t a fame-hungry sycophant with grabby hands who wants to be treated like a princess, if only for a couple hours. If I’d stopped for one second to think about it, I would have guessed her reaction to me flashing the cash.

---