Page 105 of Between the Lines

Keep sassing me and I won’t tell you what I purchased for you.

Claire

*shuts up*

What’d you buy me?

Nathan

It was meant to be used together, but I don’t mind you taking it for a test run first.

In fact, the thought of you in my bed playing with the toy I bought you while I’m away is making me want to leave this dinner.

Excuseme? This man bought me a toy, and has it waiting for me at his place?

Claire

Toy???

Come home. Come homeright now.

I don’t even think twice about using that word—home.

Nathan

Impatient girl. Don’t tempt me.

Make up an excuse. Don’t go back to Penelope’s tonight. I’ll text you my garage code.

It’s hard to focus for the next hour of the night. Lucy returns, flushed, and when the four of us are together in Juliet’s living room, we dive right back into girl talk. I’m distracted. Unfocused. They have to repeat questions to me. I feelterrible. Because these women took me in—as a friendanda roommate—and I’m literally thinking about our boss pinning me to the bed and using a vibrator on me instead of listening intently to their conversations.

And then, I do exactly what Nathan ordered me to.

“Oh, hey, guys, Zoey just texted. I forgot I told her I would swing by to see her for a little while. I should probably head out before it gets too late.”

I hate lying, but desperate times and desperate measures and all that.

“I think I’m gonna head out too,” Penelope adds, standing with me. “Breakfast date tomorrow? I was thinking of trying out a new recipe for banana crepes.”

“Oooo, yes! Count me in!”

It’s the least I can do, considering I’m spending the nightin her boss’s bed while he’s out of town.

I thank Juliet for hosting, Lucy for helping me work through a few things on the job front, and tell Penelope not to wait up for me. The second I’ve turned the corner and am heading down the now familiar route to Nathan’s house, I call him. It goes straight to voicemail, but I receive a text moments later.

Nathan

I am still in the lobby with Aaron, Sam, Drake, and Tony. Are you on your way home?

Please don’t text and drive.

I wait until I’m in the driveway to let him know that I’ve made it to his place, that the garage code worked, and that I’m already stripping down on the way to his bedroom.

A sense of calm weighs on me as I enter Nathan’s vacant bedroom. He isn’t here, and yet the entire place is enveloped by him. His cedar and vanilla scent is tattooed onto the sheets and pillows, his withered book sits perfectly aligned on the corner of his bedside table, and one peek into his closet reveals his shirts to be aligned in both sleeve and roy-g-biv color order. I don’t feel out of place, being in his place alone.

He hasn’t texted back, so I strip to only panties, slip into one of his T-shirts, and slide under his covers. The assault on my senses—his silky sheets against my skin, and his scent all around me—has my hand sliding down my stomach and beneath the waistband of my thong. I moan the second my fingers touch my wetness.

God, I miss him.

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