Page 38 of Fault Lines
A stray tear rolled down my cheek. “Then I’ll have to leave him, eventually. I’ll give him time now, let it play out. But I can’t stay forever if he won’t quit. It hurts more with every week that goes by. And honestly, the longer this goes on, the less I want to stay. When it’s just us, I feel like the only woman in the world. But when he’s gone—even when he’s just at work—it feels like part of me is missing.”
Nate devoured his lasagna, which made me laugh a little; he had a way of eating like he was racing someone, even though he was so fit. Mr. Porter and I teased him about it at every lunch.
“Have you thought about seeing someone else? Too?”
I shook my head. “I just can’t. I love Cam. I can’t imagine being with another man like that.”
He considered this, then smiled, the dimple in his cheek deepening. “Then don’t. But you could still distract yourself with friends. Like, come see a movie with me on Thursday.”
I blinked. “Like a date?”
He grinned wider. “Not a date. Promise. Just something to get your mind off him. Especially since he’ll be out.”
I thought about it while the waiter cleared our plates. “Dessert?” he asked.
“I’ll have the cherry cheesecake,” Nate said, not hesitating.
I didn’t bother hiding my smile. “None for me,” I told the waiter.
Nate turned back to me, waiting. “So, what do you say? Come to the movies with me. You know I’m a good movie partner.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “Just as friends.”
He beamed, looking like he’d just scored a massive win.
The cheesecake arrived and he dug in, sighing contentedly as he took a huge bite. The look on his face made something flicker in me—a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time for anyone except Cam. It startled me, but I pushed the feeling aside.Nate was my coworker and my friend, nothing more. There was nothing wrong with spending time with a friend, especially when Cam was out.
“Livi, you have to try this,” Nate said, scooping up a forkful and offering it to me.
I leaned in, letting him feed me a bite. The cheesecake was creamy and light, with tart cherry topping that tasted like spring.
“Oh wow. That’s amazing,” I said after I swallowed.
He watched me, his gaze almost too intense. “I can order you a slice.”
“Maybe next time,” I said, glancing at the clock. “We should get back.”
“Next time,” he echoed, the words lingering between us a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Chapter Thirteen
I shut my car door and pressed the key fob twice, waiting for the tell-tale beep. Cam always teased me for doubling up, said once was enough, but I liked the confirmation—the small, mechanical announcement that everything was as I’d left it.
Nate was waiting nearby, leaning against his own car as if he had all the time in the world. “Hey,” he said, walking toward me, his eyes moving over my dress. “You look great.”
I flushed; I’d spent longer than I’d admit picking out this dress. I didn’t want to overdo it and send the wrong message, but I’d been so hungry for a night out that I’d ended up in a black dress with a loose skirt and layers of ruffles. It was barely more than casual, or so I convinced myself, but I hadn’t worn anything this cute in weeks. I could always call Rachel if I needed a night out, but lately she and Jackson were glued to each other, and I didn’t want to intrude. She was happy, I reminded myself, so I should be too.
Nate led the way toward the movie theater’s ticket window, glancing up at the glowing screen. “I thought we could see that new Ryan Gosling movie. If that’s okay.”
I looked at him, surprised. “You like Ryan Gosling?”
He gave a crooked little smirk, as if he expected the question. “Guys can’t like Gosling? He’s a good actor. I like what he does.”
I giggled at that, thinking how odd it sounded; Cam always claimed Gosling only got jobs because women liked his looks. He wasn’t wrong about the looks, but I’d always thought Gosling was good at his job too.
“You have good taste,” Nate said, handing money to the cashier. I pulled my wallet, but he just shook his head. “Nope. I owe you. My treat.”
Inside, the bright lobby smelled like popcorn and butter. I watched Nate load us up with drinks, popcorn, and more snacks than I thought a person could reasonably handle for two hours. I wondered, idly, how he burned through all those calories. Did he jog, like Cam? Maybe the gym. Or maybe he just had good genes. Either way, his arms and chest looked strong in that soft t-shirt, not overbuilt but definitely not just average.
