Page 40 of Burn Point

“You’ve been a jerk this week.”

His head snapped back at my sharp tone. He held my gaze, then propped a hand on the doorway and leaned on his outstretched arm.

“Probably.” He eyed the van, displeasure written all over his face. “You’ve been busy out here while you were avoiding me.”

I didn’t like his tone, and I was over his attitude. I sighed in defeat and plopped into a chair. “Look Nate, I’m tired of playing games. You seem like you’re ready for me to go, and I realized that it’s time. You’ve been more than generous, allowing me to stay here, helping me out so much. But I think I’ve overstayed my welcome. So, yes, I’ve been working hard to get it ready to go.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. I guess he was still pissy, despite my heartfelt confession. “Who helped you with the stove install?”

Why did it matter who helped me? Why was he being so moody and weird?

“Mike called a buddy of his. The guy stopped by in between jobs to get it done the other day when you were at work.”

Another moment passed in silence. This whole Broody Nate was a real pain in my ass.

“So, it’s all done and ready?”

At my nod, his lips firmed.

“Where are you going?” Again, with the tight voice and blank expression.

I couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or sad or happy that I was ready to move out. This was a far cry from the Nate that I’d enjoyed hanging out with. The carefree, fun-loving, playful Nate. I missed that guy.

I stood and resumed unloading a basket I’d brought out, an effort to quell both my discomfort in the situation, and my nerves at the thought of doing this solo. I was determined and excited about my adventure, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t also feeling some apprehension about it.

“I booked a spot up in the mountains to do a trial run.”

“For when?”

“Tomorrow,” I said quietly.

Something thumped and I turned to catch him bumping the side of his fist against the door. He looked away, bumped the door again. When he looked back, his expression had changed once again, morphing from stoic to troubled. He opened his mouth, stopped, cleared his throat and started over. With a visible effort, he gentled his features, hiding behind this mask, this rip-off version of the Nate I’d come to know. Half of me wanted him to ask me to stay. The other half was ready to leave already.

“Well. If that’s the case, we need to grab some pizza and beer and catch a game before you head out. Invite the crew over for a farewell party.”

It was an olive branch. I’d take it.

I let out a soft breath of tension. I didn’t want to leave feeling like I’d lost my friend. “Sounds great, but don’t you normally do something with the guys on the weekend?”

“Not tonight. Tonight, we’re going to hang out and watch the game.”

Ah damn, he was killing me. Sweet Nate making a surprise appearance.

I cleared my tight throat. “I’ll finish up in here and head inside. You go order the pizza and send an invite to everyone.”

By the time I strolled in, Nate had the game on and was kicked back on the couch. I grabbed a slice of pizza and curled up in my normal spot.

“I hate it that Mike, Leah, and Thoren couldn’t make it. I wanted to see them before I hit the road,” I said around a bite. It had been a last-minute deal, but it would’ve been nice to see them all once more before heading out of town.

Nate lifted a shoulder, eyes on the game.

The tension between us was unusual and uncomfortable and I didn’t know what to do. So, I addressed the elephant.

“Nate, we need to talk.”

“What is there to talk about?” he replied, not taking his eyes off the game.

I picked up the remote and hit pause on the game. He looked over to me. This was it. I had his attention, but what should I say? Did I tell him how amazing I thought he was? That I’d missed spending time with him during the week? That I’d had vivid dreams that he starred in? How much I was going to miss his smiles?

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