Page 63 of From Our First

Nate slid an arm around me and kissed the top of my head. I frowned and looked up at him.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“You looked sad. I wanted to make you smile.”

That little clutch came back, and I pushed it away and did my best to ignore it. I could not fall for Nate. I couldn’t. Not the way I had before.

Before, it had been fast and hard and all-encompassing.

I had lost a part of myself because I hadn’t known who I was. Now, I had a firmer grasp on who I was and who I wanted to be. I didn’t know how Nate fit into that, or if he did at all. But that meant I had to remember exactly where I stood in my own reality before I let myself fall too quickly—or at all.

“I’m fine. I was thinking about the fact that my parents would never be caught dead here.”

Nate snorted. “Oh, hell no. Not even in the slightest. Although I’d like to see your mom try to sit down on a picnic blanket with one of those tight skirts she wears.”

I raised a brow. “Okay, gross. You noticed how tight my mother’s skirts are?”

He blushed and shook his head. “No, but it looks like she’s always standing too straight in those pencil skirts. Like it’s hard to move around. Very uptight with a stick up her ass.” He paused. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so rude.”

“No, no. I agree with you. Mom always has a stick up her ass. And yes, she’d never demean herself by sitting down on a blanket with the common folk.”

“Okay, I’m sorry for bringing them up.”

I shook my head. “I’m the one who thought about them and first mentioned them. All you did was make a weird comment about my mother’s skirts.”

“Please, let’s never mention this again. Not if I want to sleep with you.”

I laughed. “Yes. If you ever want sex again, then you can’t talk about my mother.”

“That sounds like a deal to me.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Joshua asked, sliding between us. He took our hands, and I looked down at the boy. Once again, I felt a little tug.

I looked up at Nate, and he had an odd expression on his face that I knew likely mirrored mine.

If we hadn’t been pulled apart, would we have a boy around Joshua’s age? Would we have a child of our own who held our hands and called Nate Daddy?

There was no use dwelling on the past, not when it had stood in our way for so long already.

But it didn’t make it any easier to forget.

Nate cleared his throat, and his expression went back to the fun uncle, and not the one with memories that haunted us both. He was so much better at this than I was. I defaulted to icy bitch queen, but he went to the nice guy.

We were both good at hiding things. It was no wonder we had never known the truth of ourselves before now.

Nate grinned. “We were just thinking about how much funnel cake we’re going to eat.”

“I’ve never had a funnel cake. Is it good?” Joshua asked.

I pressed my lips together and raised a brow at Nate.

“I think it’s time we gorge ourselves on funnel cake.”

“I don’t know if Dakota will like that,” I sing-songed.

“What is Dakota not going to like?” the woman in question asked as she came up to my side and hooked her arm with mine.

“We’re discussing funnel cake.”

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