Page 140 of Between the Lines

“Is everything okay? Is he treating you well?”

I sit up straighter. “It’s just that… We haven’t really talked about what we are though. With his job and everything it’s…”

I think back on the gala, and the spring break trip, andasking me to stay to get his brother’s results?That can’t all be for nothing.

“Complicated.”

She fills in the blank for me.

“I feel like you have some processing to do,” she says, choosing her words slowly. “And, by the looks of it, it’s not something you want to share. Please be safe though, Claire. I know what it’s like to let a man talk a big game and completely fool you in the end. I don’t want you to end up in a situation like that.”

I can’t tell her all of this—Nathan’s story is his to share, and he chose to share it withme—but if I take one thing away from this experience, it’s that he and I have a serious conversation ahead of us.

“I promise I’m taking care of myself,” I assure her. “He treats mesowell, Pen. It’s like I had no idea what love could be like until he walked into my life with a scowl on his face.”

She smiles, less concern written into her expression, and relaxes.

“Okay. You know where to find me if you need advice, girly.”

We head back to the living room, and I make a big show of marking my page in my copy of her book,In the Thick of It. She flips me the bird and eats the rest of my popcorn while we put on an episode of a dating show that neither of us have actually watched before.

“Where were you tonight then? If you weren’t out with Connor?”

“A meeting with my agent,” she says, so casually now that it’s out in the open. “I have one more book left on this contract, and he wants the synopsis and the first twenty-thousand words by the end of the summer. We’ll renegotiate after that.”

I nod, satisfied with that answer, and let myself fall into the trap of bad reality dating until we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open anymore. Penelope takes the popcorn bucket to the kitchen, and I listen to the sounds of her moving throughout the house and getting ready for bed while I let the events of the night fully sink in, trying to sort things into facts and questions.

Fact: My friend slash roommate is a bestselling author. I’m sleeping with our boss. He treats me better than my wildest dreams.

Question: If we’re not going to define what we have with words, what the hell are we doing?

fifty-six

nathan

Claire knockson my office door at the beginning of the school day. I know it’s her because she has started using a specific pattern of taps that now always gets my heart racing. It doubles when she pokes her head inside.

“Hey, stranger,” she says, her warm smile lighting up the room.

“Hi,” I say, tension slipping from my shoulders as she closes and locks the door, and comes around to my side of the desk. When she places both hands on my shoulders and leans in for a soft, slow kiss, I exhale, but push her gently away before things can escalate.

“I really miss this, but we shouldn’t here anymore.”

She sighs, and while part of me wants to catch those words and swallow them back up, she nods in agreement.

“Well, I have good news then. I can come over tonight, if you’re free.”

“Does Penelope have plans tonight?”

“Not per say…”

She bites her bottom lip and looks away. She’s nervous about something.

When, “She kind of knows about us,” whispers from her lips, I can see why.

Emotions tidal wave over me, and I don’t know which to latch onto. Fear, anger, and anxiety crest at the top, while a small taste of freedom and hopecoasts below it. Claire is chewing on her thumbnail, clearly awaiting a response she’s afraid of. Above all of those other feelings, the innate desire to put her above it all is overwhelming.

Still. I don’t know what to say. First, Joe’s crude comments and our almost run-in, and now one of my employees flat outknowsabout us?

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