Page 103 of Romancing the Grump
Nathan growls as my hands move higher, exploring his shoulders, the dips and hollows of his muscles as they twitch and flex under my touch.
“What are you doing to me?” he asks, his voice strained and husky, his breathing labored.
“I could ask you the same thing.” I lean up, my teeth catching his bottom lip, nipping gently before I kiss him again. We both seem content to abandon the question, and we fall back into it without another word.
I’m not sure how long we kiss. Long enough that our pace slows from something frenzied to something a little more languorous—a gentle exploration that liquefies my limbs and loosens my muscles. My butt is numb from the cold truck, and Nathan has permanent goosebumps on his bare forearms, but I’m not sure either of us care.
Soon, an older guy I’ve never seen before appears besidethe truck, distracting me from the line of kisses Nathan is currently pressing along my neck just under my ear.
The guy clears his throat, keys jangling in his hand. “Think I can get my truck back?” he says, his tone casual and slightly amused.
Nathan pulls back and meets my gaze, a smile playing at his lips. He helps me down, taking my hand as we step back from the guy’s truck.
“Sorry about that,” Nathan says.
The man lifts his eyebrows at Nathan, smiling wide. It’s only then that I notice his Appies hat, and I remember that we’re in a very public parking lot outside a restaurant full of fans.
I’ve seen other people leaving in my periphery, but I’ve been too distracted to care. For all I know, someone could have snapped a picture, even filmed us. That wouldn’t be awesome, as I’m pretty sure our make-out session wouldn’t qualify as the “family friendly” content Parker strives for. But there’s nothing we can do about it now.
We step away from the Chevy as it rumbles to life and stand in the shadow of a red SUV. With my hand still in his, Nathan leads me across the parking lot toward my car. At first, I think we’re simply relocating, which is fine with me—I’d love to pick up where we left offwithoutan audience. But when we stop beside my driver’s side door and I spin to face him, pressing my palms against his chest, there’s something off—a distance that wasn’t there before.
I briefly wonder if Nathan is also worried about the fans, but then he wraps his arms around me and breathes out a sigh, dropping his head onto the top of mine. Physically, he’s here, but mentally, emotionally, I sense his retreat. This is bigger than a worry over social media, and I find myself bracing for whatever he says next, panic rising in my throat.
I can’t let him run from this. This is too good, too right for him to retreat just because he’s scared. And that has to be what he’s doing. I don’t know why he’s so afraid to let himself feel. I don’t know why he thinks he’s destined to repeat his father’s mistakes, but he’s wrong.
He has to know that he’swrong.
I lean back, my hands shifting to grip his forearms, and take a huge, shaky breath. Iknowthe risk of what I’m about to do. But I can’t do this for one more day. I can’t leave without telling him how I feel.
“Nathan, I’m in love with you,” I blurt out.
His eyes widen the slightest bit, but he doesn’t speak. Just swallows once, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
“I know you said you don’t want a real relationship, and I tried to fight it—I swear I did.” I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “But I fell in love with you anyway.”
Nathan doesn’t answer for a very long time. So long that I start to feel queasy and look around for a bush just in case I need to barf out my nerves.
Lucy said to be brave, but the concept of bravery feels a lot tougher now that I’m face-to-face with possible rejection.
“I don’t know what to say,” Nathan finally says.
Oof.His words are a total gut punch, and my skin prickles with heat, fueled by a growing sense of embarrassment in my chest.
I can think of a few things he could say in response.I love you toowould be an excellent place to start. But I won’t make that demand of him. I didn’t tell him because I needed him to say it back. I told him because I’m tired of pretending it isn’t true.
Instead, I step forward, lifting my hands to his shoulders. He wraps his arms around my waist, which gives me just enough courage to keep talking. “I know this isn’t what youwanted,” I say. “You’ve been clear about that from the start. And maybe it wasn’t fair of me to agree to fake it when I sensed how easy it would be to fall for you. But I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t keep giving you all of myself, all of my heart, without knowing I’m getting the same thing in return.”
He presses his forehead to mine, his grip on me tightening. “I don’t know if I can,” he says. “If I even know how. I’ve been telling myself I can’t for so long.”
He lets me go, turning and walking a few steps away, his hands resting on his head.
Thankfully, the parking lot is momentarily quiet so there’s no one to witness whatever is happening between us. There’s no one to see how much this is breaking my heart.
I close my eyes, willing the tears not to fall. I knew this would be a possibility. That this would be hard for him no matter how things played out. “I know,” I say. “I do. But Nathan, my heart’s already in this. I’m in too deep. I can’t just keep pretending, hoping that you’ll eventually decide this is what you want.”
He spins around, fire flashing in his eyes. “Of course it’s what I want,” he says, his voice broken and husky. “It’s never been a question of desire. I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you, and I’ve wanted you every moment since.” He hesitates, his mouth opening and closing like he just can’t find the right words. “Summer, the only thing more certain than how I feel is the inevitability of me disappointing you.”
“You’re wrong,” I say, stupid tears coursing down my cheeks. “You don’t know that. Youcan’tknow that. Life is all about risk. There are never any guarantees—especially not when it comes to love. You’re refusing because you don’t want to hurt me, but the person you’re really hurting is yourself. You deserve to be loved, Nathan. So your schedule isstupid, and your job is hard. Shouldn’t I be the one who gets to decide if you’re worth it?”
