Page 39 of Fierce Love
I poke my head out the door and find Nate running his hands down his cheeks, wearing a beleaguered expression. He looks how I feel—worn out by our conversation. We’re going in circles, and we both know it.
The solution—to give in—feels easy, but it’s the opposite of that. Giving in comes with so many complications Nate isn’t even aware of.
“Any chance you can drive me out to the campground instead? I can catch a cab back to the apartment later.”
“Cal’s place?” A furrow appears between his brows. “Why are you going there?”
“A dog is having puppies, apparently?” I flash my phone at him. “Kin is out there running with the adventure race club, and she wants to be there for the puppies being born.”
“I’ll drive you,” he says without hesitation.
The last thing we need is more time alone, but a little thrill goes down my spine at the chance to be with him a little longer. “Thank you,” I say as I close the changing room door.
Chapter Nineteen
Nathaniel
Ican count on one finger the number of times I’ve wanted something and not gotten it, where money or perseverance hasn’t given me the result I was after.
Initially, I planned to pursue Hollyn whether she agreed or not, but as I let that idea percolate for two weeks, I couldn’t get it to filter properly. There are people I will railroad into doing what I want, but the truth is that pursuing her relentlessly didn’t work out for me the first time. Ignoring her objections didn’t get the result I wanted, and I have to be mindful not to make the same mistakes.
When I was a kid, I was content to be the one who could see a clear future together laid out before us. I always thought she’d catch up—one day, she’d wake up and realize what I already knew—but instead, she woke up and realized she wanted out completely. Even now that she’s told me why, her reasoning refuses to fully settle in my mind or my heart.
This time, if I’m going after her, I want her to be choosing me too. She doesn’t have to want our future together the way I do—not yet—but I don’t want to convince her we’re worth another shot. I want her to acknowledge what I already know. There’s something undeniable between us. Turns out years, distance, and truckloads of hurt feelings changed nothing. Not for me, and I swear to fucking god, not for her either.
Instead of pressing her for an answer when we get to my car, I let us ride in silence for a few minutes. The air is dense with tension, with the things we’re not saying, the truths we’re not quite giving.
I remember when we first started dating last time, what a delicate balance it felt like in the beginning. Pursue her but not so hard that I’d put her off or scare her away, and that’s what I’m feeling now. If I push harder than she’s comfortable with, she’ll tell me no. There’s steel underneath her that wasn’t there when we were kids. Back then, she was too used to bending to other people’s whims and wills. To survive in her family, to keep her job, that’s what she had to do. A true people pleaser, at least with everyone else.
I’ve seen the change in her the last couple of weeks while we’ve worked together. She’s learned to say no and to be firm in her opinions, to trust her gut instincts. I’d rather circle around a yes than draw a straight line to no.
“There never used to be any animals at the campground,” Hollyn says, staring out the window as the ocean scenery passes us by. “How long have they had a dog?”
“It’s recent. Uncle Victor was against animals on the property, but since Cal has taken over, things have changed. He has some chickens, a couple of goats, and some bunnies in a small petting zoo–type area. Campers love it. The dog came from my sister.”
“Which one?”
“Maren. Her newest charity project is the animal shelter, rescue, whatever you want to call it. She tried to talk me into taking one of the animals too. Get them out of the kennels and into a home. Make them more adoptable.”
Hollyn’s lips twitch, and it feels like she’s trying to hold back a comment.
“Say it.”
“You’d be a terrible foster parent,” she says with a slight smile.
“What?” I splay my free hand against my chest while my other continues steering the car. “I’d be anincredibledog parent. You need to explain yourself.”
“Maren wants to make them more adoptable? By whom? You? Once a dog is in your house, it won’t be fostered. It’ll be adopted. So you’re right. You’d be an incredible dog parent, but a much less successful foster dog parent.” She laughs. “Rescuing wounded things is totally your thing.”
Even though I know she’s right, I press back. “Name one time.”
“I can name several times.” She raises her five fingers and starts to count them off. “One time, you rescued an injured pigeon from traffic in the middle of downtown Tucker’s Town. Apigeon. To be fair, watching you do that was probably one of the funniest things I’ve ever witnessed. For an injured bird, it was pretty spry.”
“I couldn’t just let someone run over it.” But she’s right. For a bird that couldn’t fly, it was alert and agile and fucking hard to catch. If I close my eyes, I can still remember the sound of her laughter floating out my vehicle window while I tried to outwit the thing. “I suppose that’s one.”
“I’m not done,” she holds up her hand. “Anytime you saw a homeless person, you gave out gift cards to Donuts and More, the biggest coffee-and-food chain on the island. Like the cards appeared magically in your wallet, but you obviously went outof your way to make sure you always had some.” She pauses for a second and then says, “The reason you started chopping wood at the campground was because Cal broke his arm one summer and couldn’t do it. Instead of Victor hiring someone, you took over the job. It wasn’t like Cal’s dad couldn’t afford to get help.”
I can feel her searching my profile while I’m focused on the road, even though I could drive the route to the campground in my sleep.
