Page 6 of Line of Resistance

“In fact, I bet Emmett’s grandma would love it if you came back for another visit.” He turned toward them again, this time carrying a roll of thin, webbed gauze. “Maybe, you can come visit again, and play with Emmett and his grandma.”

Eloise stared daggers at Nate’s face, silently willing him to shut up. However well intentioned, what he was offering would be nearly impossible. She’d been shocked to see Bryson here in the first place. The chances of him coming back, especially now that he would be going home with a knot on his head, would be slim to none.

But Nate just kept talking. “We have tons of snacks and a pool in the basement.”

Bryson’s eyes widened as Nate carefully worked the gauze around his head, holding the ice pack in place. “For real?”

Nate nodded. “For real. You could bring your suit and we could swim.”

Bryson’s expression fell, sending Eloise’s stomach sinking with it. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

Nate’s eyes dropped from where they were focused on his task to the little boy’s face, holding there a second before moving to Eloise’s. She lifted her brows, offering the glare he missed earlier. Not only had he given Bryson false hope, but he was also reminding the little boy of how little he had in this world. If it wasn’t such a gosh darn tragedy, she’d feel smug about just how far Nate shoved his foot into his stupidly well-crafted mouth.

But nothing about Bryson’s situation amused her. If anything, it made her feel a level of rage she’d never experienced in her life. Enough that she occasionally whispered more than a few of the swears she’d eliminated from her vocabulary just to take the edge off.

“I don’t think that will be a problem.” Nate’s focus shifted back to Bryson, the warmth in his gaze making her consider hating him a little less. “I bet Emmett has an extra pair you could borrow.”

Bryson’s face lit up again, hope springing back to his oversized features. “Really?”

“Absolutely.” Nate finished binding the cold pack in place and stepped back, giving him a once-over. “I think you’re all fixed up.” His head tipped to one side as if he was pondering something. “Was there anything else we were supposed to do while we were here?”

Bryson’s eyes shifted to Eloise, offering yet another hint about the little boy Nate better not disappoint. She was grown. She could handle disappointment—hadhandled disappointment. But Bryson was just a kid. One who was faced with more crapola than most adults. If Nate dangled a carrot in front of this little boy then yanked it back the same way he’d done to her, she would definitely do more than whisper swears under her breath.

Eloise smiled in spite of the murderous thoughts swirling through her brain. “It’s okay. You can remind him,” she reassured him, offering the support he always looked to her for. Food and clothing weren’t the only things her most neglected student had gone without, and for a long time Bryson was young enough he didn’t realize how many social skills he really lacked. But with age comes self-awareness, and between that and consistent trips to her office, he was beginning to realize not everyone understood him the way she did. It was complicating an already complicated situation.

“You said you had popsicles.” Bryson’s words were soft. Barely a whisper. Proving his eagerness had limits and he carried a wariness he might never lose. Because regardless of Nate’s smiles and calm demeanor, he was still a grown man. And in Bryson’s world, grown men were unpredictable at best, violent at worst.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” If Nate noticed the change in Bryson, he didn’t show it. His words were still as relaxed and easy as ever as he scooted the rolling stool across the room and reopened the refrigerator under the counter. “It looks like we have cherry, grape, and orange.” He craned his neck to peek Bryson’s way over one shoulder. “Pick your poison.”

Bryson’s brown eyes widened.

Eloise immediately stepped closer to his side, resting one hand between his narrow shoulder blades. “It’s just a saying. They’re not really poisonous.” She shot Nate a scowl, once again trying to convey what he was clearly missing. Unfortunately, Nate’s attention wasn’t on her at all. Hadn’t been for most of this whole exchange.

For a split second his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared, but an easy smile quickly smoothed over that tiny flicker of emotion as he pulled out a handful of paper-wrapped treats. “How about one of each?” His gaze continued to rest on Bryson. As if nothing else mattered. “Unless that’s too many popsicles.”

Bryson rubbed his lips together, chin tucking as his eyes shifted between Eloise and Nate. “Cherry is my favorite.” It was another low, soft admission from a little boy who’d never been allowed to ask for what he wanted in life. All he could do was take what was handed to him and learn to live with it.

Nate’s head snapped back toward the refrigerator, but not before she caught another tiny flare of his nostrils. “Two cherries it is then.” He snagged the popsicles free, peeling one open before passing it over to Bryson, expression soft as the little boy slowly took the treat. “What about Miss Rivers? What do you think her favorite flavor is?”

Distracted by the popsicle, his previous uncertainty chased away by sugar and artificial coloring, Bryson repeated the little white lie she’d fed him. “Miss Rivers doesn’t like popsicles. She likes chocolate. That’s why she always gives me hers at lunch. She doesn’t want it to go to waste.”

Eloise closed her eyes, refusing to wince. What seemed like a harmless thing at the time had come back to bite her. As school principal, she should be more careful not to show favoritism. Plus, now she couldn’t be seen eating a popsicle on school grounds without exposing her lie, which wasn’t a huge issue considering most of the year she felt like a popsicle herself.

Eloise cracked open one lid. She nearly took a step back when her eyes instantly met Nate’s. His gaze carried a weight she could feel in all sorts of questionable areas and an intensity she couldn’t seem to look away from.

“We should probably go back to the party.” Eloise swallowed hard around a sudden tightness clogging her throat. “I’m sure Emmett is wondering where you are.”

“Okay.” Bryson slid off the table, the protective paper crinkling with the movement as his too-small tennis shoes hit the floor. He wandered past, oblivious to the stare down continuing as he happily worked his way through the first of his two popsicles. Nate stood from the stool as Bryson disappeared into the hall and then suddenly there was no space left between them.

A man Nate’s size should not be able to move so darn fast.

Eloise tried to take a step back, hoping to gain a little breathing room. Unfortunately, there was less than an inch to claim before her butt met the edge of the treatment table, stopping her retreat and leaving no way to remove herself from the closeness of Nate’s body without all but running from the room.

Which wouldn’t happen. She wasn’t a coward and she sure as heck wasn’t letting him think he flustered her.

Nate had fooled her more than once. Made her think there could be something between them. That he wanted to kiss her. That maybe he wanted more than just a kiss. But, like every other man who crossed her path, he’d changed his mind, leaving her flailing around in the open air of rejection. There was no way she’d give him the satisfaction of seeing her with her tail between her legs, so she did what she always did. She slapped on a smile, expression bright and cheery and fake as hell. “Thank you so much for taking care of him. I really appreciate it.”

Nate opened his mouth, no doubt preparing to say one of the many things she’d heard before in an attempt to smooth over the awkwardness between them.

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