Page 76 of If This Was a Movie

We go to the diner, where he clearly has connections there as well too, since the table in the back corner had a white tablecloth instead of the normal laminate, and we were served pasta, complete with M&Ms and maple syrup on the side. He gave me the cutest, goofiest smile.

The next stop is ice skating, where I quickly learn that I don’t know how to skate, but I get to have Nate’s hands on my hips the entire time, which is a win all around. I giggle as he effortlessly glides me around, telling me how he played hockey in high school just to try and get girls, an effort that backfired when he realized between his job at the grocery store, practice, and homework, he had no time for girls, so it only lasted a year. But, it taught him how to skate, “which, right about now, is serving me really well.”

When I shiver one too many times, we step off the ice, and he insists on unlacing my boots for me before finally and slightly begrudgingly, we make our way to my place so I can check things out before I have to head over to the community center for the cast party.

THIRTY

NATE

“It’s actually… not terrible,” she says with a smile, stepping around her place.

I don’t tell her I cleaned up immensely the last time I was here, throwing out anything that might reveal the level of damage. The pipe that broke must have been leaking for some time, making it more susceptible to bursting because there was a good amount of dried water damage in the area. I don’t tell her, of course, that the town came here a few days ago and approved the updates. Even though it still needs a good cleanup and some paint, it’s mostly done.

“What did you think I’ve been doing this whole time?” I ask with a laugh, and she shrugs.

“I hadn’t really thought of it. I’ve been a bit… distracted.”

“I like you distracted. But go, check things out. Just watch out for tools and whatnot,” I say, tipping my chin toward where she’s walking “There’s shit everywhere.”

She looks over my shoulder at me.

“Don’t worry, I’m a dancer—” Jules doesn’t finish her sentence as she falls forward, tripping on a box and catching herself with her hands on a sheet of plywood. Running over, I grab her and her help up.

“Are you okay?” I say as she looks at me with wide eyes. She nods.

“Yeah, I think I just wasn’t paying attention.” My lips tip up as I grab her hands, but my face moves from humor to concern when she flinches. Turning her hands over, I see one has a splinter. I move toward the kitchen, sitting her down on the kitchen counter to get a better look.

“I’m fine, really.”

“Humor me, okay?” I ask, turning to grab a first aid kit and fumbling inside to find a pair of tweezers, an alcohol wipe, and a bandaid.

“It’s just a splinter, Nate.”

“I told you. When you’re with me, if you get hurt, I take care of you,” I say, quoting what I said to her that first night we were together.

I take her hand again and stretch the skin of her palm so the splinter is clear. It’s barely in, mostly just sticking out, but still, I gently grasp it with tweezers and pull. Then I grab the wipe, clean it, and put a bandaid on the spot. When I’m all done, I lift her hand to my lips.

“My hero,” she says sarcastically. “You know, you seem to like this, fixing injuries and helping damsels in distress.”

I smile at the reminder of the first time we were together.

“Yeah, I guess. But only with you.” I move to get closer to her, standing between her legs. The counter brings her to the perfect height, and I fight the urge to think about possibilities as her hands move up, hooking around my neck.

“Is that so?” She asks with a teasing smile.

“Oh, definitely,” I murmur, then drop my head, pressing my lips to hers.

It’s not a gentle kiss, but an instant, all-consuming one. My mind loses track of time and space and common sense as an arm moves to her back, pulling her closer to me.

My tongue intertwines with her, tasting coffee, chocolate and her strawberry lip balm. She sighs into my mouth as my other hand moves to her hair holding her where I want her, need her, so I can take what I want.

She arches her back, pressing into me, and I groan, getting already hard at the small mewl that comes from her. I continue to kiss her, our tongues battling against each other like we can’t get enough, my teeth nipping at her lip, her breathing getting heavier.

My lips move to kiss down her jaw, up to her ear, her fingers gripping my hair.

“God, I can’t get enough of you,” I groan into her neck, my hand slipping up her sweatshirt and under her tee, only to find she isn’t wearing a real bra, just a thin bralette. My hand moves up, thumbing over the peaked nipple and dragging a moan from her.

“I need—” She starts, and I know I would give her anything, absolutely anything she asks. There’s something about her sitting before me on a counter just like that first time that has something in me snapping.

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