Page 49 of Nathan

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Not true. I’ll have you any way I can get you.

We finish our shower, and Nate wraps me in an enormous fluffy towel that almost goes around me twice. After drying himself off, he strolls, fully naked—and fully erect—into the bedroom. I expected him to want sex in the shower, but one thing I’m learning about Nate is that he often does the complete opposite of what I think he’ll do.

“There’s a hairdryer underneath the sink in the bathroom if you need it,” Nate calls through.

“I brought my own,” I say, joining him in the bedroom as he heaves my suitcase onto the bed, making a big production of its weight. “Jesus. Did you bring half your belongings with you?”

I nudge him out of the way and open it. “A girl never knows what she’ll need.”

Nate peers over my shoulder as I start to unpack. Like a hawk, he pounces on my best set of underwear—a navy-blue, lacy number that leaves very little to the imagination. It was a birthday gift from Elva a couple years ago, but I’d never found a reason to wear it. I’d hummed and hawed about whether to pack it, but in the end, I’d thrown it in.

He dangles it in the air. “Oh, Titch, here’s an outfit you’ll definitely be needing. In fact, you could have just packed this and nothing else.”

I snatch it from his grasp and stuff it into the nightstand drawer, my face burning. “Get dressed.”

He laughs and ambles over to the dresser. I gawk at his firm, muscled ass, and when he turns around unexpectedly and catches me peeking, my skin heats once more. I grab my own hairdryer—I’m fussy like that—as well as my curling iron, and scuttle back to the bathroom with Nate’s chuckles ringing in my ears.

It takes thirty minutes to dry my hair, and a further fifteen to add a few waves. When I return to the bedroom, Nate is nowhere to be seen. I quickly dress in jeans and a top and shove my feet into my sneakers. If we’re going do a lot of walking around, I’ll need comfortable footwear.

I tentatively open the door and creep down the hallway, peeking into the living room to find it empty. I expected it to be full of people, like last night.

The smell of coffee reaches me, and I tiptoe over to the kitchen to find a pot already brewed. After opening several cabinets, and feeling more than a little audacious, I find a stack of mugs. I pour a coffee, add a dash of cream, then wander back into the living area to set my coffee on the table and plunk down on the sofa. A few magazines are haphazardly strewn over the low-level table, so I pick one up and flick through, but it doesn’t hold my attention.

Where the hell is Nate?

“Oh, you’re up. Sleep well?”

I turn to see I’ve been joined by Indie. “Um, yeah.” I hold up my mug of java. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Make yourself at home. Do you want some breakfast?” Indie grabs a pan and puts it on the stove. “I’m making an omelet if you’d like one.”

“I’m okay, thanks.” I scramble to my feet. “Have you seen Nate?”

Indie nods. “He’s upstairs talking to Declan.”

“Oh.”

“He’ll be down shortly.” She cracks an egg into a bowl. “Are you sure I can’t make you something?”

“I’m good.” I check out the view I didn’t get a chance to enjoy last night, then wander over to the breakfast bar and slip onto a stool. “I’m surprised you’re not rushing around like crazy, especially with the wedding being tomorrow and all.”

Indie smiles. “Luckily, I’m a pretty organized person. It’s all done.”

“Thanks for letting me share your special day.”

Indie pats my hand. “I’m glad you’re here. Any friend of Nate’s is always welcome.”

I rest my elbows on the counter and my chin in my hands. “How long have you known Nate?”

Indie briefly looks up from what she’s doing. “Four years, give or take.”

“What’s he like?”

At that, Indie puts the bowl down and gives me her full attention. “You tell me,” she says, quirking an eyebrow. “You’re the one sleeping with him.”

I blush but then notice her teasing expression and laugh. “Doesn’t mean I know a single thing about him.”

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