Page 3 of The Story of Us
Well, nothing happened with the shirt.
Somethingthat shouldn’t be happeninghappened. He blamed Eloise’s vanilla perfume or shampoo. That damn scent. It should be innocent, like birthday cakes and warm sunshine, but the musky undertones drove Nate crazy. Hell, everything about her drove him crazy. He’d spent far too long imagining what she’d smell like when she first woke up, all sleepy and warm, the remnants of her body wash lingering on her skin.
But he’d never know because there was no way he could ever go there. It wouldn’t be fair to Eloise.
“We could put a cut in the back of each sleeve. No one would see it under your jacket?” Eloise said, dragging Nate away from the thoughts that plagued him whenever they were together. Her hands trailed up and down his arms.
“That’s Gucci!” Charlie hissed.
She rolled her eyes. “Since when do you wear Gucci?”
Nate’s lips twitched as the siblings glared at each other.
“Sera got it for me.”
Eloise wrinkled her nose, her hands flattening against Nate’s chest. Did she even realise what she was doing to him? If he didn’t get himself out of here soon, there’d be no hiding the effect she was having on him.
“And money equals perfection? I swear to God, Charlie, if these people are assholes to Mum and Dad, I will wear your testicles as earrings to your stupid celebrity wedding. Do you hear me?”
Ahem.That visual solved Nate’s problem and he coughed, edging away from Eloise.
“What if I wear my singlet and jacket? No one will notice,” Nate suggested, trying to steer the conversation back to the task at hand.
“But is it Gucci?” Eloise murmured.
“I heard that!”
“You were supposed to!” she fired back at Charlie.
Nate swallowed a snicker, but he couldn’t resist seeing if he could make her smile. He lived for her smiles. “It’s Hugo Boss.”
It wasn’t. It was a no-name brand from a chain store. Eloise’s exasperated “oh my God” was worth the lie.
“I’m sorry, do you glamazons need a minute to keep dropping labels or can we focus here?” Eloise arched an eyebrow at Nate.Damn.She could tell him off any day of the week.
“I’m done.” He stepped away from her and tried to peel himself out of Charlie’s shirt.
“Good,” she said, helping him. “It’s not really designer, is it?”
Nate shook his head, his chest pulling tight when her shoulders relaxed.
“Charlie?” Sera called again, her voice louder, closer.
Charlie grabbed two bottles of red wine from the counter, holding them with his good hand. “But it could’ve been,” Charlie teased. “Back when he used to be somebody who got whatever he wanted. The parties. The fans. All the screaming women. On the sidelines. In your bed. Those were the days, right, mate? If the Fletchers are too much for Mum and Dad, can you please distract them with some of your famous football stories? Or the ones about all the groupies. Dalton will eat that shit right up. Skip the stuff about how you’re writing books now. That’s not as interesting.” With that request and an exaggerated wink, Charlie disappeared.
That was how Nate knew Charlie would never be okay with him dating his sister. His buddy never missed an opportunity to bring up all his mistakes. Reading them out like a shopping list of reasons why Nate would be the worst guy for Eloise who was far too kind and sweet for someone like him. And Charlie didn’t even know the worst bit. No one knew about the part that kept Nate up at night and ate away at every good thing in his life.
Eloise’s frown and downcast eyes hit Nate square in the chest. He’d disappointed a lot of people with his poor choices when he was younger but seeing it reflected on her face? It was too much.
“It wasn’t really like that,” he said. “Not after my rookie season, anyway. Mum threatened to hunt me down and kill me. Said the Old Girls would help her bury the body.”
“It’s not my business.” There was no trace of their typical, easy banter in Eloise’s formal tone.
Nate sighed loudly, pulling his jacket back on before tossing Charlie’s shirt over the back of a kitchen stool. He picked up the broom and resumed sweeping, but the silence in the room was heavy, uncomfortable.
He caught Eloise’s arm as she brushed past him, her hands full of peonies. “My life hasn’t looked anything like that for the longest time, and it’s not who I am anymore.”
Eloise just shook her head. “We better get this mess cleaned up before everyone else arrives.”
