Page 62 of Nathan

Dead silence greets me. I can’t even hear him breathing. I look at my screen in case we’ve been cut off, but nope. Still connected.

“Nate?” Now it’s my turn to sound worried.

He laughs, but it sounds husky, raw, and forced. “No idea what I meant. I was hammered.”

“You’re lying.”

I don’t know how I sense he isn’t being truthful with me, but my intuition is firing like crazy.

“Where are you?” he asks for a second time.

“Central Park. I’m coming back now.”

“No, don’t. I’ll come to you. Meet me outside the main entrance to The Plaza. Can you find that?”

“Yeah.”

“On my way.”

He hangs up, leaving me with an uneasy feeling curdling in my tummy. He sounded exhausted, beaten… scared, even. Why wouldn’t he want me to come back to Declan’s place where we can talk in private? It doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t making any sense.

I return the bike to the rental shop, recover my deposit, and walk to The Plaza. By the time I get there, Nate is already waiting. He must have sprinted to get here so quickly, but he doesn’t look out of breath, only wary.

He saunters over to greet me, meeting me halfway.

“Hey.” He offers me a wry smile. “You didn’t punch me.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t smother you while you slept.”

“Then, the fact I fell asleep with that as a potential outcome must mean I trust you.”

I twist my lips to the side, considering his comment. “Do you, though? Do you trust me enough to tell me what’s really going on? And don’t even think about denying it. We might not have known each other long, but I’m not stupid, Nate.”

He lets out a sigh, and his eyes briefly close. “Come with me.”

I allow him to take my hand, and he walks us into The Plaza, right across the lobby, before stopping in front of the reception desk.

“We need a room.”

Why do we need a room? I open my mouth to ask, but Nate gives a brief shake of his head and squeezes my hand in a silent no.

The man behind the desk glances up, recognition evident in the slight bow to his head. “Certainly, Mr. O’Reilly.” He puts out his hand, which Nate shakes. “I’m Andrei, the assistant manager. Anything you need, rest assured, I’m at your service.”

I suppress a giggle at his formality while Nate responds with a polite and practiced, “Thank you.”

Andrei taps on a keyboard. “Our Edwardian suite is available if that’s suitable to you. I’m afraid our Vanderbilt suite is taken.”

“A regular room is fine.”

“Of course, sir.”

Stopping my mouth from running and demanding to know why we need to spend money on a room rather than just heading back to Declan’s is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I’m pretty proud of myself that I manage it. I may have bit my tongue in the process, but at least I kept quiet.

Andrei swipes Nate’s credit card, then hands it back to him. “I’ve written the floor and room number down for you.” He pushes a card across the desk, glancing left and right before lowering his voice. “I’m sure you want your privacy.”

“I appreciate that.”

“How many keys will you require?”

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