Page 42 of Nathan

“Next stop… Operation Cooter.”

Chapter 17

Dex

My legs won’t stop bouncing as the plane begins its descent into JFK. Nate has grown more and more monosyllabic the closer we get to New York, and for the last hour he hasn’t spoken to me at all. Despite his grouchy mood, I’m excited. I can’t wait to see everything. My one worry is that I’ll miss my usual Sunday trip to see Mom, but Elva promised to make an extra visit this weekend.

Nate and I are staying in New York Thursday through Tuesday, with his brother’s wedding being held on Saturday, and I’ve already planned out an entire itinerary, much to Nate’s chagrin.

“I wonder if Bernard is over his snit yet?” I muse, referring to my boss’s fury when I finally plucked up the courage to ask for a few days off. He said no at first…until Nate had made a call.

“Who gives a shit?” Nate says, staring at the seat belt sign as if it holds the answer to who’ll win best actor at this year’s Emmy’s.

“What’s the matter, Nate?”

He doesn’t look at me. “Nothing.”

“Really? Cat got your tongue, then?”

The closer Nate and I have become over the last few weeks—since the whole ‘Be Mine’ speech, as I now choose to think of it—the more I’ve shown my true self to him. Those early days of being careful what I say and how I say it are over. Not that Nate seems to mind. In fact, the more combative I am, the more he likes it.

His eyes cut to mine, and what I see has me worried. Gone is the over-confident man with a permanent cocky smirk I sometimes want to smack right off of his face. In his place is a sullen, morose guy who gives the impression he’s heading to a funeral rather than a wedding.

I caress his arm and soften my tone. “Talk to me.”

For a split second, his mask falls, and behind the brooding act is a man who is deeply troubled. Then the curtain drops back into place, and he becomes unreadable once more.

“I’ve told you before, I don’t like coming back here.”

“Yes, you have told me that. What you’ve omitted to mention is why.”

“Bad memories, that’s all.”

“You mean your parents dying?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “That, among other things.”

I should stop pressing him, but I’ve always found knowing when to quit a challenge. “What other things?”

“Fuck’s sake, Dex. Just leave it.” He returns to staring at the seat belt sign, the pulsating muscle in his jaw giving away his annoyance.

“I’m a good listener.”

“Then, hear me. Drop it.”

I sigh heavily and turn away to look out of the window. The clouds part, giving me a view of the ground below. We’ll be landing soon, and despite Nate’s black mood, I refuse to let him steal my joy.

As we walk through the arrivals hall toward baggage reclaim, Nate entwines his fingers with mine.

“Sorry.”

I expel a deep breath through my nose. “You should be sorry. You wanted me to come, Nate, and yet from the moment we got on the plane, you’ve gotten more and more moody and distant.”

He offers me a crooked smile. “Apart from my brothers, you’re the only other person to call me out on my shit, you know that?”

Thrilled with his admission, I beam. “Get used to it, mister. My sister doesn’t call me Mouth Almighty for nothing.” Except with bastard Bernard. I only mind my manners around him because I need the money, and there’s a gigantic power imbalance between us.

Nate throws back his head and laughs. His arm comes around my shoulder, and he pulls me into his side. “I’m glad you’re here, Titch.”

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