Page 9 of Why Not Us?

I don’t like to make a big deal about it, though all of my friends have given me a hug and said happy birthday to me today. Lis even brought me in some cookies she’d made last night, promising she was still going to make me a cake on Monday when we get together for our regular game night at Derek’s house.

I put my pens away in my drawer and set my checklist for tomorrow in the middle of my desk, where it’ll be the first thing I see in the morning. “I’m meeting Calista tonight. We’re supposed to be going for a couple drinks.”

“Perfect. Tell her to meet us there. I’ll pay for the Uber.”

I pause in the act of crumpling a sticky note I’ve already dealt with. “What about your car?”

“Ava dropped me off this morning. Come on. Spencer, Lis, and Vic all have other plans. You’re my last hope to not go alone.”

I sigh, but take out my phone and text my sister. Then I stand, checking my office to see if there’s anything I’m forgetting. I purse my lips. “I just need to find my sweater.”

Derek chuckles. “You left it in the lounge.”

I roll my eyes at my own absentmindedness and follow Derek, grabbing my sweater from where I’d left it on the back of a chair when I’d had lunch earlier. It’s been a beautiful, almost warm day today, so I hadn’t needed a heavy coat, which meant I wore my sweater most of the day and took it off in a random place.

“I hope you know you’re paying for more than just the Uber, my friend,” I tell Derek. “First round is on you.”

He drapes an arm over my shoulders, laughing as he leads me from the building.

“I would never let you pay for your own beer on your birthday.”

We get an Uber out to Hops Scotch, chatting about the latest funny thing his cat Abyss has done and how Lacey, his soon-to-be sister-in-law, is doing in her final months of grade twelve. We arrive at a mostly empty taproom, only one other table occupied with three people. And there at the bar is Nate.

My breath lodges in my chest at the sight of him. I thought I’d exaggerated his size, but seeing him again, I hadn’t. In that moment, I realize how much I’ve thought of him over the past few nights. The answer is: too much.

The pressure of Derek’s hand on my back reminds me to move. We walk up to the bar and Derek holds out his hand, grinning like this is the easiest thing in the world. And for him, it is. He hasn’t spent four nights in a row wondering what that beard would feel like against his skin. Would it be soft? Or scratchy?

“Nate. Good to see you again.”

They shake hands and when they’re done, I automatically hold out my hand, even though I don’t want to. Even though Idowant to.

“Hello,” I say, my voice softer than I’d intended.

His huge hand wraps around mine and that same spark that had shot through me on Friday night lights up my nerve endings now. I remember myself and let go after a reasonable amount of time.

Though he hasn’t said a word, his grey eyes seem to lock onto me, devouring me for a moment before returning to Derek. “You want me to get Taylor?” he asks.

“Sure. But we’re also going to order some beer.” Derek turns to me. “You want a pint or a flight?”

I scan the menu board behind where Nate is standing. “Flight. The two sours, the Hefeweizen, and the lager.”

Derek looks at Nate, who nods and starts pouring. Once both orders are placed and poured, Derek also getting a flight of beers, we sit at a table. I can’t help it when my eyes stray to Nate as he leaves the front, my gaze dropping to his ass as he walks away.

“Oh my god!” Derek says. “You’re attracted to him.”

I damn near break my neck turning back so quickly to find him staring at me. “No, I’m not.”

“Adalie Murphy, I am your best friend. Do not lie to me.”

I narrow my eyes. “One of three. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“I hear you changing the subject. Which only proves my point.” He takes a drink from one of his small glasses and I glance back to where Nate has returned. His eyes find mine across the space, dark and serious, and all I can think is,oh shit.

Derek is smirking at me now. “Want to lie to me again?”

I toss my curls over my shoulder and pick up my lager. “He is not at all my type.”

He snorts and pats my hand. “You have no idea how little that matters.”

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