Page 121 of Bossy Wicked Prince
NATE
Cat tries to be subtle when she brushes a tear away. She’s trying so hard to keep her dignity that it breaks my fucking heart.
My so-called friends better have their affairs in order. When I’m done with them, they’re going to wish they were never born.
I don’t know what kind of power play Beau was getting at, making her work at our game. I should have insisted he send her home the second she arrived.
But I didn’t. Because deep down, I’m a selfish bastard, and I wanted to soak up every minute of having her close. Especially since this might be the last time she lets me anywhere near her.
I haven’t been able to stop obsessing about Cat since she left my apartment. I miss her so much, it physically aches. Every time I get news about the Edmonton acquisition, I want to update her. At lunch, I want to ask her what she’s serving at the shelter. This morning, I drafted a dozen “good morning” messages that I never sent.
Because Cat isn't mine. She made that crystal fucking clear, and the kindest thing I can do right now is give her the space she wants.
I look back at her beautiful face, those wide amber eyes still shining with tears. She looks fragile, like I could break her apart with the brush of a finger. So different from the spirited, cheerful Cat I’m used to.
She shuffles quickly back to the bar. She’s not hidden there, but she can turn around and prep ingredients at the counter and pretend we’re not here.
Every part of me wants to follow her there, take her in my arms and comfort her. I want to stroke her hair and tell her how strong she is, how sorry I am, how well she dealt with everything tonight, but most of all…how much I miss her.
But I can’t. So I turn on the assholes who did this to her.
“You’re lucky I don’t kick all your asses,” I growl in a low tone so she doesn’t have to hear me. “I get that you’re trying to piss me off, rubbing my breakup in my face. But I’m not the one you’re hurting here. This stopsnow.”
Ryan whistles. “Whoa, Nate, you’re fucking scary when you want to be.”
“Dude, we’re not trying to piss you off,” Beau says. “We know you, Nate. You’ve obviously been shoving your feelings down. We didn’t know if you even let yourself feel how much you missed her. We’re trying to fuckinghelpyou, not hurt you.”
“We thought if we made sure you saw each other, you’d realize that you have to win her back,” Luke says.
James shakes his head when I look at him, holding his hands up. “I told them it was a bad idea.”
I glance back at Cat, making sure she’s not listening. She’s busily chopping lemons, obviously as an excuse to stay far away from us.
“Of course I want to win her back, you idiots. But Cat broke up with me, and she had a good reason. I have to respect that and leave her the fuck alone. I need to be patient and wait forher to be ready to come to me. You motherfuckers better do the same.”
They all exchange glances.
“We’re sorry, man,” Ryan says. “We promise, we’ll tip her extra to make it up to her.”
I glare at them, letting them know that they fucking better.
Luke nudges the cards toward me. “Your turn to deal, Walsh.”
I grab the cards and start shuffling. It’s good to have something to do with my hands to ground me. Cat sniffs quietly, making me wonder if she’s still crying.
If she’s still upset, does that mean there’s any chance she might miss me, too?
I thought that accepting the breakup was the only option I had. But what if the guys are right? Am I supposed to fight for her?
Is there any way she can get past what I did?
The game goes by in a haze. I keep my eyes fixed on my cards, trying my best not to look at Cat. I play every hand till the end, bleeding chips as I lose, over and over. I have no idea how much time goes by.
Then, a flash of golden curls moves in my peripheral vision. Cat’s streaking past us toward the elevator.
“Where are you going?” Beau asks.
“My shift’s over,” she says tartly, pressing the elevator button, and I realize as I’ve been hemorrhaging money, she’s been hemorrhaging patience. She obviously can’t stand to be in the same room with me for another minute, and I don’t blame her.
