Page 12 of Why Not Us?

“Bad news?” Nate asks.

“She’s not coming.” I shake my head. “This is just like her. Waits until past the last minute to tell me she’s not actually going to show up.” I grab my purse, pulling out my wallet. My movement is jerky, and I blink to keep the tears from falling. I’m hurt and embarrassed and angry. I could have gone with Derek and Ava. Instead, I sat here waiting for my sister like an idiot and she doesn’t even care.

I look up to find Nate watching me.

“We close in about an hour,” he says.

I shake my head, confused. “I don’t…”

“Taylor’s on his way back with pizza. Hang out. Have something to eat with us. Maybe have another beer. I can give you a ride home if you want.”

My hands drop so my purse settles on the bar top, my wallet only halfway out. “Really?”

“Sure. But there’s a caveat.” He leans a little closer, like he’s about to tell me a secret. “I didn’t bring the car today. If you want a ride, it’ll be on the back of my Harley.”

Irrationally, my heart rate spikes, excitement and nerves racing through me. I haven’t even agreed. I don’t have to get on a motorcycle. I very clearly hear my mother’s voice in my head.

Motorcycles are dangerous. There is absolutely no reason to take that kind of risk when there are perfectly good working cars.

But the way Nate is looking at me now—like it’s a challenge, like he knows I’m going to politely decline, but he wants me to prove him wrong—has me sitting a little straighter, leaning a little closer.

“All right. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

A slow smile spreads across his face, and I am overwhelmed with the sudden knowledge that Derek had been right. I am seriously attracted to this man.

Chapter 5

Nate

Taylor returns with the pizza, and we eat. I’m surprised when Adalie doesn’t say anything about the kind of pizza we got. One is all meat, the other has peppers on it, but is also mostly meat. She says she won’t be having another beer because she’s kind of a lightweight and figures she should have her wits about her if I’m giving her a ride home.

Taylor shoots me a surprised look at this information, so I explain how I’d offered since her sister stood her up.

I don’t mention that I’d noticed the way her eyes filled with tears or that those tears—that hadn’t even fallen—had torn me apart.

Taylor looks down at her legs and I want to smack him upside the head, until he says, “The shoes should be fine. But she’s going to need some pants.”

“We have all your old stuff upstairs,” I say, because I had also considered that. Though when I checked out Adalie’s legs, I didn’t have purely practical intentions in mind, as Taylor does right now. He’s demisexual, for fuck’s sake. He’s not immediately attracted to people. Like I apparently am.

“What do I need pants for?” Adalie asks.

“Bare legs on a motorcycle don’t mix,” Taylor says. I let him do the talking. He’s better at it than me, anyway. “You could burn yourself on the tailpipe.”

She shivers. “I knew motorcycles were dangerous. That’s not something I thought I’d have to worry about.”

Taylor laughs. “You don’t need to worry about anything. Nate’s been riding since he could walk.”

She looks at me for confirmation.

“Not quite that long. But our dad taught me to ride before I learned to drive. He also taughtyouto ride at the same age.” I cast a look at my brother, who shrugs.

“Yeah. But you’re older, so you’ve been doing it longer.”

“So you ride motorcycles, and you play hockey,” Adalie says, pointing to a picture of me and Taylor with our men’s league hockey team that we hung up after last season’s win in the playoffs. “What else should I know about you?”

Taylor tells her about a few of our other hobbies: snowboarding, mountain biking, hiking.

“You should talk to Spencer about hiking,” she says. “He loves to hike. Does the Grouse Grind like every week in the summer.”

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