Page 33 of Be My Reason

Emma and Graham got back from Paris two days ago. After sleeping for almost eighteen hours, she and I spent the entire day together yesterday doing our favorite things. We got mani-pedis, went shopping, and ate lunch at our favorite restaurant, one where the tables are little aquariums and they serve the food right on top. I’m sorry, but eating sushi while fish swim underneath your plate—that just never gets old.

Emma and I are packing herthings into boxes and wardrobes. I’m amazed at how much stuff she fit into her room in our small apartment. She is, thankfully, leaving me all of the furniture and most of the housewares since Graham is pretty much fully stocked.

We are carrying some of her best clothes out to hang them on a rod in the back seat of her car. Because, God forbid, they might wrinkle in the less than four-hour drive.

I think I’m hallucinating because I could swear I see Nate pull up in a sleek Ford F-150.

I momentarily lose myself in a daydream about being a seventeen-year-old girl in the front seat of a pickup truck, losing my virginity to the most gorgeous baseball player at school. I squeeze my legs together at the thought of him making me come in my panties simply by putting his hands on me.In me. And that voice, that raspy, sexy voice when he whispered in my ear.

“Brooklyn. . .”

Yes, that one.

Oh! Oh my God. I snap out of it. Said boy is now standing right in front of me. Only he is ten years older. Ten years sexier. Ten years hotter. My heart is pounding and I’m sure he can see it beating through my thin t-shirt. When did I become this gooey ball of emotion when he is around?

“Um. . . Nate?” I look at Emma in confusion. “What are you doing here?” I’m not sure why I am so excited to see him and I have to bite my lip to suppress the smile that wants to come out.

“I came to help Graham move Emmaout, of course,” he says, staring at my mouth.

I look over at Emma and she looks up at the sky.

“Oh. Uh . . . there are a lot of boxes still up in the apartment. You can use the back stairs.” I point at the entrance to the apartment that is separate from the one inside the bakery.

“Thanks, I’ll just head up then.” He winks at me.

I give Emma the look. That look that says I know what you are trying to do and you aren’t pulling one over on me.“Okay, okay.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “So I knew he was coming. But I didn’t want you to get mad at me and ruin our last weekend together.”

I continue to stare her down.

“But by the look on your face when he pulled up, I’d say you are most definitelynotmad at me.” She smiles. “In fact, I think you want to hug me right now for bringing that man-candy to help me move. You know, it’s hot enough that they might have to remove their shirts.” She elbows me.

I roll my eyes at her.It’s not lost on me that I tend to roll my eyes a lot when around, talking about, or just plain thinking of Nathan Riley. So far so good, because despite my mother’s warning, they have remained properly placed in their sockets.

Back in the apartment, it becomes clear to me that we have missed something. Nate looks pissed and he is having a stare down with Ryan.

Crap.I know Ryan doesn’t like Nate. I did try to explain that he wasn’t the bad guy I thought he was. I think Ryan is simply being protective of me again, acting like the older brother I never had.

I also got the distinct impression from the conversation at our ‘intervention’ that Nate thinks there is something going on between me and Ryan.

Not that I care.

Because I don’t.

Except that I do.

I guess I don’t want Nate to think that I’m dating Ryan after I told him I wouldn’t date anyone. Even if I did date someone, it wouldn’t be Nate because that would betray Michael. But if I were to date anyone, the only face I can put on ‘anyone’ is Nate’s.

I’m confusing even myself now.This is why I won’t get involved anymore.

Too much drama.Too much emotion. Too much loss.

Ryan easily picks up a box and lifts it to his shoulder. His muscles flex and his long dark hair falls over his eyesand he reaches up to push it out of the way. Nate eyes him like a predator and puffs out his chest.

“Down, boy,” Emma whispers to Nate. “You know they are just friends, right?”

“Bullshit,” Nate says, loud enough for everyone to hear. “He wants in her pants.”

“Dude, if I wanted in her pants, believe me, I’d be in her pants,” Ryanasserts. Ordinarily, I would take offense to a comment like this. But I know Ryan. He is only pushing back. He’s not being cocky. But Nate doesn’t know that.

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