Page 40 of Why Not Us?

“I just want you to know, I’m only bugging you because I’m totally shipping you and Nate.”

I laugh as we reach his office. “You’reshippingus?”

“Obviously. You guys totally don’t match, but that’s what makes me think you really do. I don’t know. I just want you to be happy.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Get to work.”

I sit down at my desk and check my phone, since I’d left it in here for the meeting. There’s a text message waiting.

Nate:

How did the meeting go? Everything okay?

Me:

Yes. Everything is fine. I can tell you about it later.

I smile, warmed by his concern.

The bubble pops up, indicating he’s texting, so I wait for the response.

Nate:

Good. You’re still planning to come tonight?

Me:

As long as you don’t mind.

Nate:

Of course not. There’s a couple others coming, so if you want, I can introduce you.

Me:

That sounds great. I’ll see you later.

I set my phone aside and as my computer starts, I wonder if maybe I’m starting to ship me and Nate as well.

Nate is already at the rink when I get there, leaning against the trunk of his car with his arms folded across his chest and his ankles crossed. He is so hot with his broad shoulders and piercing grey eyes, my mouth goes dry and my stomach fills with butterflies. He hasn’t slicked his hair back, so today, it falls over his face until he straightens and rakes his fingers through it when I park next to him.

“You weren’t waiting for me, were you?” I ask as I get out.

“Not you.” He’s cut off by the sound of a bunch of loud motorcycle engines turning into the parking lot.

He watches them approach and park in spaces nearby. There are four motorcycles, two with passengers on the back. I recognize one rider as Taylor.

“Why didn’t you ride?” I ask as Taylor parks on the other side of the car from me and turns off his engine.

Nate lifts a shoulder in a half shrug, popping his trunk. “Short straw,” he says, hefting one large bag and handing it to Taylor who had gotten off his bike.

Taylor takes his helmet off and grins at me. “If it’s a nice day, we take turns who gets to ride and who drives the gear over. It was Nate’s turn tonight.”

Three other men come over next, each taking a bag from either the trunk or the back seat of the car.

“This is Mace and Zach,” Nate says. “They’re brothers. Zach and Taylor have been friends since high school.” He nods in the direction of the last man. “That’s Doug. He, Mace, and I have also been friends since high school.” He gestures to a woman with purple hair. “Raine is Mace’s fiancée. And Patricia is Doug’s wife.”

The last woman offers me a warm smile and a wave as she links her arm with her husband’s.

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