Page 42 of Tempting the Player
His head snaps up. “Is this what you’re lowering yourself to now? Getting mauled in a club by some cunt? He fucking had his hands all over you – act your age, Kate. You’re fucking pissed.”
Right, that’s it. I see red. I go right in his face. “How fucking dare you! You don’t have any right to comment on what I do anymore, no fucking right at all! You live with someone else, remember? I'm free and single and can do whatever I want, with whoever I want, well, maybe I want to dohimtonight.” I'm saying it to hurt him, but so what? He’s hurt me.
His eyes flash with anger. “Do you have any fucking idea what I'm going through? ' Any idea at all?” When I don’t respond, he says, “No?” Well, I’ll tell you - I'm in fucking HELL.” He shouts in my face, and I'm tempted to take a step back, but he won’t hurt me, so I hold my ground.
“I'm with a woman I don’t want, while I have to watch the woman Idowant, be mauled by some arsehole. Watching youwith him made me want to kill him - I feel like I've been knifed in the chest.”
He slumps on the floor with his head in his hands. Olly is standing beside us, watching the exchange.
My heart softens, I turn back to Nathan and look at him,reallylook at him – his shoulders are drooped, he is defeated. His heart is breaking, just like mine. But maybe it's worse for him because he’s the one who ended us.
I crouch at his side and raise my hand to stroke his hair. When he lifts his head, there is nothing but pure pain in his eyes, then a single tear escapes and rolls down his cheek. It hurts to see him like this. This is the man I love - that doesn't just go away.
“I'm sorry… I'm so fucking sorry.” His voice breaks.
I can't stop my tears. “Don’t, Nate. What’s done is done.”
“I can’t get over you. Fuck… I don’t even want to. I spend all my time reliving stuff we did together. I love you so much. You’re the woman I'm meant to be with.”
I slowly close my eyes. It hurts to hear him talk this way. “Stop talking, Nathan, it’s not doing either of us any good.” He slides his legs down so that they're flat on the floor, and pulls me onto his lap. I put my hand on his shoulder to brace myself. Touching him again feels right... like I'm home.
He hooks a hand around the back of my neck and pulls me forward so that my mouth lands on his. He kisses me, but I don’t respond straight away, but the feel of him and the taste of him hits me - it’s too overwhelming - my body takes over. I groan and open my mouth, welcoming his tongue into my mouth. He groans and deepens the kiss. We kiss… boy, do we kiss, and I forget everything that has happened at that moment - all I think about is Nate and what it’s like to kiss him . . . taste him . . . God, I've missed the taste of him.
Someone clears their throat behind us – it's Olly, bouncing from foot to foot, looking around. “Guys, this is not a good idea, especially here.”
He’s right. I've just kissed a man who’s in a relationship with someone else. She might be a bitch, but that’s a code you don’t break.
I look into Nathan’s eyes for a moment longer before turning to hold my hand out to Olly, who helps me up.
Nathan’s eyes are on me, as though pleading with me. I shake my head and turn and walk away, back into the club. I don’t look back. I want to, but I know what I’ll see and I know it’ll kill me.
I go back inside, and Karen and Amanda immediately come over to check that I'm okay. I nod and wave it off as though it was nothing, when in reality, seeing him again and in that state, floored me. I touch my fingers to my mouth, where he was kissing only moments ago – I wonder if seeing him will always floor me. Stupid question.
I'm not in the mood to carry on the night after seeing him, and it's late anyway, the rugby union guy is searching the mass of people for someone – in case it’s me, I make a swift exit – I forgot I was heartbroken for a minute there on the dance floor, and it didn’t do me any good.
Chapter 18
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Urgh, what the hell?” I wake to the sound of someone banging loudly on my front door. On a quick assessment, I decide I’m hungover as hell - I turn over to check what time it is and a wave of nausea hits me. Eight-thirty. Jesus. Who the hell bangs on a door like this at eight-thirty on a Sunday morning?
I roll out of bed, fighting back the urge to run to be sick. I have one of Nathan’s t-shirts on – I’m pathetic. I search for my dressing gown, slip it on, and make my way downstairs to more banging, unsure if it’s my head or the door!
I check through the front window, and my stomach lurches. There, outside my door, is Nicki. Oh shit . . . this can’t be good.
I slowly unlock my front door and squint at her as the daylight hurts my retinas.
She eyes me up and down “Seriously, this is what he's been hankering over?”
“What do you want?” I ask, my voice sounds hoarse, and I have no doubt that I look like death.
“We need to talk.” She says seriously.
I shake my head. “We don’t have anything to talk about. If you want to know anything, ask Nathan, and if he won’t tell you tough - it’s over - so it shouldn’t matter.”
“Can I at least come in?”
I sigh, I’d rather do this inside than make a spectacle out of myself in front of the neighbours. I walk off into the kitchen. “Ineed a drink anyway.” I head to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of juice from the fridge. I don’t offer her any, she won’t be staying long.
