Page 69 of Fierce Love
“Can I have this dance?” Nate asks, appearing in front of me and giving a cheesy bow that makes my whole chest explode with love.
“You may,” I say, matching his grin.
He twirls me onto the dance floor, and my gown billows out around me. Then he settles me into his arms, and we sway to the music. “Having a good time?” he whispers into my ear.
I take a beat to reflect on how it’s been since we arrived, and if it wasn’t for Sawyer staying so close, I’m not sure if the answer would be yes. Nate’s been good at checking in, but I don’t think he really understands how out of place I still am. I look the part, but I don’t feel it. Not yet.
“Yeah,” I say, and when I draw back, he searches my expression before kissing me.
“There’s an after-party at a friend’s house. Are you okay to go to that?”
“Do you want to go?” The idea makes my stomach swoop low.
“I’d like to, but if you hate the idea, I’d rather be with you.”
But I’ve seen with my own eyes tonight how much people enjoy Nate, love his company. We’ve barely been alone since we arrived. There’s always someone who wants his attention to tell him something or show him something. He’s well-liked at his school beyond his social circle, which isn’t a surprise but still feels like a revelation. We spend a lot of our time just the two of us, so I don’t fully understand the life he has beyond me. Maybe I can get a sense of that tonight.
“I think we should go.” Bravery takes hold in my spine. I can do anything for one night. Even if it’s terrible for me, it’s a memory for Nate.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I think it’ll be fun.”
The mansion isn’t as imposing as the Tucker estate or the palace, but the after-party is filled with drugs and alcohol. While the Summersets might be strict, the rest of Nate’s circle seems to be pretty liberal.
It doesn’t take long for most of the crowd to be drunk enough to start giving me the eye when I wander through the crowd. Given what I’ve seen drugs and alcohol do to people, I don’t touch them.
Sawyer is there for the first hour, but her date drinks too much too fast, and she ends up having to drive him to another friend’s house where their parents are doctors.
That leaves me without an anchor. Nate’s been swept up by his guy friends, and I go in search of him, eager to leave if he’s not desperate to stay.
When I pause near a hallway, searching the crowd, I hear Nate’s name, and I shift in that direction, wondering if he’s down the hall. I peek around the corner, and there’s a small crowd of girls, one of whom is crying.
“Why her?” the crying girl asks.
“Just be thankful he’s getting it out of his system in high school,” one of the other girls says. “That’s what my mom says about the whole situation. Be grateful he’s fucking the help now and not later.”
“Let’s be honest,” another says, “he’s not going to marry her. Celia Tucker wouldneverallow it.”
“And it’s just not done,” another says. “Can you imagine her at a charity function? We’d be fundraising for her relatives.” She lets out a snarky laugh. “Literally, the people she lives with would be getting our charity.”
“Nate isn’t stupid,” the crying girl says. “He told me he loved me.”
Oh god.
“He’s not stupid,” the first girl agrees, running her hand down her friend’s arm. “We’re all going to college, and she’ll get left behind. Next summer, Nate will be yours again.”
My heart squeezes at the notion that he’s someone to play with, someone to trifle with, a prize to be won. What they’ve said about me should bother me, but it’s what they’ve implied about Nate, that his personal worth is tied to his financial worth, that hits me square in the heart.
The fact he told her he loved her, though… Hearing that makes my stomach cramp. It’s not that I expected I was his first; I knew I wasn’t. But I never anticipated being faced with another version of the world, one in which he belonged to someone else.
“Nate’s the type to rescue a stray dog and end up adopting it,” another one of the girls says.
Are they comparingmeto a stray dog?
“He’s not going to want to show off the mutt in public. He’ll soon realize he needs a purebred. Give him a bit of time. He’s just too kindhearted.”
Her comment lands like a concrete block on my shoulders, and I almost bow under the weight. Unlike the others, she seems to understand Nate a little more, and I wish I’d left thirty seconds earlier.
