Page 64 of Nathan

He rubs his eyes and then his forehead, as though he’s trying to scrub away the hideous memories.

“It all became so clear to me then, the way Dad kept me at a distance, yet was so close with the others. How he’d be much harder on me over everything. My grades at school, how tidy I kept my bedroom, telling me I couldn’t have friends over, yet my brothers were allowed as many buddies as they liked. Mom overcompensated for his behavior. She’d tell me how special I was, how gorgeous, kind, bright, clever. But I always knew something was different. That I was different.” His eyes cut to mine, and the depth of hurt in them breaks my heart. “So, yeah, now you know.”

It’s my cue to talk, but instead, I climb onto his lap and hug him as tightly as I can manage. I want to take the agonizing memories festering inside him into my own body, cleanse them, and give them back to him, almost like money laundering for the mind. Except I can’t. All I can do is tell him that I’m here for him, that it doesn’t matter to me who his parents were, or how much their deceit impacted him. I want him regardless of his broodiness, his bad moods, his sometimes-cold demeanor. Every fucked-up, wonderful, amazing part. His past shaped the man he is today—sometimes angry and hurtful, but so fucking special.

“What do you need?”

He draws back, his eyes searching my face. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but he must find it because he gives a small nod, curls his hands beneath my ass, and stands. Without saying a word, he carries me to the bed and sets me down. His mouth searches for mine, and as our tongues come together, his touch grows urgent. He undresses me quickly, then himself, but as he nestles between my parted thighs, he slows down as if my compliance to giving him what he needs has soothed an ache I can’t see but can definitely feel.

His hands cup my face, and the way he looks at me, with such commitment and desire, sends my pulse into overdrive.

“I can’t wait, Dex.”

“I don’t want you to wait.”

“I don’t have a condom.”

I run my hands over his muscled shoulders, trailing them down to his ass. “I don’t care.”

With a groan, he pushes himself inside me, but instead of taking me hard and fast as I expected, he moves with slow, deliberate thrusts. His eyes never leave mine, and as his hips move, stroking the part of me that makes my toes curl, I have an epiphany. Nate isn’t fucking me. He’s making love to me.

I love you.

I want to say the words out loud, but fear holds me back. Just because he’s making love to me doesn’t mean he actually loves me. Nate is a man who feels deeply, that much is obvious, given what he’s told me about his background, but I instinctively know he’s also a man who doesn’t love easily. To tell him how I’m feeling is a risk I simply can’t take. If I lose him now, it will punch a hole in my heart that will never heal.

My stomach clenches. I’m close. Standing on the precipice, I gaze into Nate’s eyes as he grinds into me. Warmth rushes out from my center. Burying his face in my neck, he mutters something illegible, his breath hot against my skin.

He holds me tightly for a while, then rolls to the side. His fingers creep toward mine, and he knits them together, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“I know being with me isn’t easy. I’m fucked up, moody at times. I can sulk with the best of them. I have serious issues I’m working through. All I ask is for you to accept me for the man I am. Not the actor, the public figure, or the youngest of four brothers who doesn’t know who his dad is.”

I swallow past a huge lump in my throat. If one single tear dares to fall, I’ll gouge out my own eyes. This isn’t about me. It’s about Nate and his deeply rooted feelings of rejection from his birth father and betrayal by his mother, a woman he adored.

“Why have you never told your brothers?” I ask softly.

A shadow crosses his face. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But, Nate, don’t you see? It’ll free you from the terrible burden you’re carrying.”

“No, it won’t.”

“How do you know if you don’t try?”

“What’s it to you, anyway?” A cold, stark statement said without an ounce of inflection.

An angry squall whips up inside me. Here we fucking go again. One step forward, ten steps back. “What’s it to me? Are you kidding me?”

Without saying another word, Nate gets off the bed and begins to get dressed. Goddamn the man. He can be a complete asshole at times. I get out of bed, too, but instead of getting dressed, I stand in front of him, stark naked. My hands go to my hips, and I jut my chin forward.

“You’re right. Being with you isn’t easy. But let me make this real simple for you. In case it’s escaped your notice, I actually give a shit about you. And a fucking idiot can see this secret is eating you alive. Jesus, like I’ve said a hundred times before, I’d understand your hesitancy if your family were a bunch of dicks, but they’re wonderful. They’ll understand.”

He goes to walk around me like I haven’t even spoken, but I shift to stop him, jabbing my finger in his chest. “Don’t even think about walking out on me. Stop fucking running, Nate.”

He towers over me, his eyes almost black with fury in their depths. “I fucking knew it was a mistake to tell you. Get off my back.”

“No.”

He makes another move. I counter it. Like two mismatched boxers facing off at the pre-match press conference, he stares me down, and I refuse to bow to his dominance.

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