Page 64 of His Off-Limits Christmas Gift

I just need one minute.To talk to him. To explain. To make sure he wasn’t thinking the worst or assuming something crazy.

Sure, it was a huge bombshell that he’d heard. Love wasn’t a trivial little thing.

Maybe I’d fudged it that I’d been in love with him all these years. I hadn’t been. I’d been with Kyle and gave it my all even when he couldn’t give me anything at all. But I was in love with Natenow. I didn’t see an end to it, either.

I returned to the party, finding him with that simple smile on his face. It wasn’tmysmile, the soft, slow one he reserved for me.

Dammit. I need to just explain it all.

I didn’t. I couldn’t. The party was just too loud, too busy, and too hopping. There wasn’t a single chance to get Nate off to the side and have a private conversation, but I desperately wished I could.

Through the smiles and small talk, I rehearsed in my mind how I’d clear up this confusion. I could tell him that I loved him. I could share this newer realization that I’d felt it for a while but was too nervous to tell him. I could open up and explain that he had nothing to do with why Kyle dumped me, that the relationship ended due to no fault of mine or Nate’s, just that Kyle was gay.

“I’ll be right back,” Nate told me toward the end of the night.

“Wait.” I grabbed his hand before he could move away.

He paused, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got to do this speech…”

“No. Wait.” I frantically looked around. “Can we just talk for a second?”

“Rach.” He chuckled. “I’ve got to talk toeveryonefor a minute.”

“But—”

“And now,” the company president said on the stage, “help me welcome our CFO, Nate McIntosh.”

Applause rose for him.

Oh, shut up.I sighed, releasing Nate’s hand so he could go up to the podium.

This was where Yasmin ended their marriage. This was the stage she stood on when she accusedhimof being a lousy, cheating husband. The screen hung back there was the same surface where the video showed the evidence ofherinfidelity.

Yet, Nate went up there, all smiles and charm. He spoke clearly, congratulating teams and individuals for their hard work, naming specific projects throughout the year. A few jokes were shared. None made sense to me, but the people who were involved cracked up in the audience.

I stood there, nervous and partly holding my breath for him to handle this well, and he did.

Without pause. Without a falter. And no one heckled him.

I wanted to think that he handled it because he knew I was here, supporting him, but that couldn’t be true.

He didn’t look at me once.

My heart felt fragile as he stepped off the stage, returning to my side for the next speech. And the next.

Why won’t you look at me, Nate?

Why can’t I explain?

He took my hand, holding it again, but as far as PDA went, it was chaste.

Julie sidled up to us after the last speech. She waggled her brows and tilted her head toward the dance floor. “Aren’t you two going to dance at least once?”

No. God, no, Julie. No matchmaking now. Read the room.

“Yes,” Nate said, to my surprise. “We should dance.”

I furrowed my brow as he led me out there to dance to a jazzy version of, yet again, another Christmas song.

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