Page 34 of Nathan

“Have you changed your mind about New York? If you have then we need to sort out how the fuck I’m going to pay you back. Jennifer called me. She’s the manager of the home in case you didn’t know. She told me my arrears have been cleared. So, if New York is off, then A, you should have had the courtesy to tell me and you didn’t, which makes you a bastard, and B, I need to pay you back. And before you say a word, I know I said pay you back twice. I know, okay, but, well, fuck. And I know last weekend probably didn’t mean a thing to you, but I’m not in the habit of jumping into bed with strangers, pouring out all my troubles because of their superior sex skills, then have them come up with some sort of a… a… an indecent proposal while refusing to let the other person pay their half.”

I gulp in some air, damn sure all those words came out on one single breath. Where is the water? My mouth is dry as a cracker. I scan the restaurant for our server while shredding a napkin I don’t remember picking up.

“Dex.”

I can’t face him. I don’t want to hear the truth spill from those delicious lips that have explored every single inch of me. I won’t allow him to shatter my hopes for something more between us.

“Dex. Either fucking look at me or I’m gonna do something that’ll embarrass you a whole lot more.”

I snap my eyes to his. Nate doesn’t have the embarrassment gene, so I have no doubt he’ll follow through on his threat. The details of what that could entail are anyone’s guess, but I’m not about to test him.

“I haven’t changed my mind about New York.”

“You haven’t?” My voice comes out more like a squeak.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve been pulling sixteen-hour days. We’re up against a deadline to get the latest episode of my show in the can. I haven’t had time to do anything except work, sleep, and eat.”

My face burns. “Oh.” I drop the ribbons of paper that used to be a napkin onto the table and stare at my now-empty hands.

“That’s partly why I stopped by today, actually.” A pause. A sigh. A curse. “Will you fucking look at me.”

I gradually lift my chin again, meeting his ice-blue gaze.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Nothing. Apart from the fact I’m falling too deep, too fast, and I’m going to bear the scars for a lifetime.

“I’m sorry. For ranting. It’s been a stressful week.”

Nate leans forward and caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s all good, Titch.”

Our soup arrives, preventing me from reacting to the tender moment, but my skin prickles where he touched me. The server sets down the jug of water I needed five minutes ago. The minute my glass is full, I down it in one.

“Thirsty?” Nate asks with an eyebrow arch and amused smirk.

I ignore him, and instead dig my spoon into my soup. The flavor hits my taste buds, and I make an appreciative noise. Best. Soup. Ever.

“Stop taunting me. It’s mean.”

“I like taunting you, though.” I stick out my tongue. His eyes flare.

“Point that in my direction again and I’m sucking on it.”

A sound comes out of me that’s a cross between a gasp and a snort. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He bends his head to the left and licks his top lip. “Oh, Titch.”

Desire unfurls in the pit of my stomach. There’s something so wicked about Nate. I can’t get enough. There’s no doubt he’ll corrupt me. The question is to what extent.

I clear my throat. “So, you were saying… about why you stopped by.”

He laughs. “Was I?”

I pout, and he nods at my bowl. “Eat your soup, then we’ll talk.”

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