Page 20 of Getting It Twisted

He studies me for a long moment, as if he’s trying to work out a loophole in the words I said. “We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t. I’ll help you so you can leave again. That’s all this is going to be.”

He frowns and looks away, and his silence bothers me more than I like to admit.

“Are you really this pissed off just because I won’t jump into bed with you?”

“I’m not pissed off. I fucking . . . I missed you, okay?”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, letting all the bitterness I feel creep into my tone. “Didn’t enjoy your five years of freedom?” When he gives no reply, I press on, “Go ahead, tell me. What were you up to, during all this time?”

His eyes grow dark, mouth scowling. He looks like the whole world is bearing down on him.

“Nothing good.”

Chapter 5

Nathan

Understatement of the fuckingyear. My time on the road was an endless highway of disappointments, hungover mornings, and fucked-up encounters with fucked-up men.

I ball my hands into fists by my sides, trying to gather the carelessness I’ve cloaked myself in for so long. I don’t want to tell Daniel what a mess I’ve made of my life. This thing between us won’t work if I let him strip away my defenses like he did when we were kids. I guess I owe him somewhat of an explanation, however, even though it won’t be the whole truth.

“It wasn’t just about you, you know. Me leaving. It was this place. Shit was fucked up, everything with my mom and that, and I had to get away.”

He sends me a skeptical look, as if he knows there’s more to it. But he won’t get the whole story.

Not now. Not ever.

“Tell me this,” he says, “how am I supposed to trust you?”

Trust me? Why does he need to trust me? I trust no one, and I’m doing just fine.

“I don’t know. But if you want to be around me, I guess you’re gonna have to.”

“I don’thaveto do anything. I could just ignore your existence and go about my life.”

“Sure. So why don’t you?”

He glares at me, the line of his shoulders tight and strained.

I roll my eyes. “God, relax. I’m not gonna jump you if that’s what you think.”

“Good, ’cause I’ll break your neck if you try.”

Shit, I believe him. With those arms, I bet he could.

“I told you; I won’t do anything.”

“Okay,” he says with a slow nod. “Now let’s talk about tomorrow. Once you’ve sobered up, you need a way to get your car.”

“I’ll walk.” The road into town is long and boring as hell, and I used to ride my bike, not walk. But it’s doable.

“No. I’ll come get you after work.”

“Oh well, since I don’t have a choice and all . . .”

He turns toward the window currently serving as my front door. “You don’t.” Half-crouched, one foot on the windowsill, he adds, “Just tell me one thing.”

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