Page 32 of Nathan

I hold out my hand. “I believe we have a deal, Titch.”

She lets out a sigh of relief and shakes my hand. “Good, because I’m too tired to go another round, either verbally or physically.” She casts aside the covers and swings her legs over the edge of the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She glances over her shoulder. “Tomorrow’s Monday. I have work.”

“So do I. What’s your point?”

“I need to get home. All my things are there.”

“Then, I’ll drive you tomorrow before work.”

“I have to be in by eight.” She checks the time and groans. “Fuck, it’s two in the morning.”

I offer her a slow grin and a wink. “No point going home now, then, is there?” I hold out my arms. “I don’t want you to go. Stay, please. I’ll make sure you get to work on time. Promise.”

After a pause, she gets back into bed and snuggles up to me. “What’s going on here, Nate?”

I kiss her temple. “I don’t know, Titch.”

And I’m shit scared to look too closely.

Chapter 13

Dex

With a sense of despair, I stare at the stack of work piled high on my desk. Since Nate dropped me off at the office on Monday morning after one of the most exciting and exhilarating weekends of my entire life, I’d come back down to earth with an almighty bump. Whether Bernard was still furious Nate had forced him into something he didn’t want to do, or my boss sensed a flush of happiness in me he’s determined to stamp out, he hasn’t given me a moment’s breathing space all week.

Not that it matters. I haven’t heard from Nate. At all. And that’s giving me far more sleepless nights than coping with a big baby like Bernard.

Sighing, I pick up the first file. Open it. Close it again. Release another sigh. It’s as if Nate has stolen my motivation, as well as my attention. Does his silence mean he’s changed his mind about New York? If he has then I have a problem, because he’s already cleared my debts. Jennifer called on Monday afternoon to thank me for clearing my arrears.

As I try to work through the reason for Nate’s lack of contact, the desk phone rings. It’s Bernard.

Rolling my eyes, I pick it up, but before I can say a word, he barks, “Get me a coffee. Now.” He slams the phone down.

I grit my teeth but comply without question. Someone must have ticked him off. Best to keep my head down, not draw attention to myself, and scour the internet for alternative jobs that pay as well as this one does.

Or, just as likely, win the lottery.

I make Bernard’s coffee, making sure to add exactly the right amount of cream and sugar, otherwise he’ll subject me to a hissy fit and his special acidic tongue.

I tap on his door and wait for the curt, “Enter,” like he’s a goddamn king.

“Here you are, Bernard.” I set the cup on the left-hand side of his desk. Never the right, even though he’s right-handed. Go figure. He doesn’t even look up from his computer as he stabs angrily at the keys. “Can I get you anything else?”

He glares up at me then. “Yeah, you can get the fuck out of my sight. I don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the day. Think you can manage that, girlie?”

Girlie? Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him.

“Of course,” I murmur.

I turn to leave… and jolt to a stop. Nate is standing in the open door, his shoulder propped against the doorjamb, wearing a pair of Aviator sunglasses that hide those glacier-blue eyes, with his arms folded across his chest. His dark hair is rumpled and messy, like he’s just rolled out of bed.

God, he looks delicious enough to eat. I go to smile, then remember he’s left me hanging all week, so I glare at him instead. After a week of no contact, it’s what he deserves.

“My mother used to tell me manners cost nothing,” Nate drawls. “You should try using them sometime, Bernard.”

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