Page 26 of Fighting Words

I open my mouth to apologize, but I hold my tongue, thinking maybe it’s better if I just don’t call attention to what he’s already well aware of. Had I known I was going to be in this position, I would have thrown on a turtleneck this morning instead of a thin long-sleeved V-neck. I’m not sporting a ton of cleavage, but there’s some. With me, there’salwayssome.

To his credit, Nate doesn’t say a word or show any sign of acknowledgment. To him, this is just a simple haircut. Nothing weird about it. I lean in, and our eyes lock. All at once, my serious bubble pops, and I laugh.

“How awkward is this?”

“It’s fine,” he promises, his voice a little husky.

So maybe he’s not completely immune to me…

Andrew has never been the type to focus on my looks. He’s generous and attentive in bed—I really like our sex life—but I get the impression my curves are a little too much for him. Like my bodyas a wholeis too much for him. I never wear lingerie and rarely dress in a way that accentuates my chest. Once, at a work dinner, my dress was a bit low cut, and he had me put his jacket on, insisting to everyone that I’d asked him for it when I really hadn’t. I wasn’t even cold.

Whenever I’ve asked him what he likes most about me, trying to figure out if he’s more of a butt guy or a boob guy, he’s given me a trite response. “You’re beautiful, Summer, but it’s your brain I like the most.”

Blah blah blah.Of course I like my brain. I’m not an idiot, but sometimes a woman just wants to feel desired. It wouldn’t be so bad ifoccasionallyAndrew had to fight to keep his hands off me.

Now, Nate’s hands curl into fists, and when he sees me notice, he flattens them out on his thighs and closes his eyes.

“I can smell your shampoo,” he tells me.

I swear he sounds almost like he’s in pain. Maybe I need to hurry this up. He probably didn’t anticipate it taking so long. I run my hands through his hair and decide I’ll leave the top a bit longer than the sides. Nate has the perfect sort of hair for an at-home haircut. There’s a wave to it so as it continues to dry, it hides all the flaws.

When I’m nearly done, I step back and give it a once-over, find a spot I need to trim a little more, and then continue on until I’m confident I’ve done, if not a great job, at least a pretty good one.

I prop my hands on my hips and smile. “Done.”

He eyes me from his seat on the chair. “Yeah? How do I look?”

Like hell am I going to answer that question truthfully.

“Fine,” I say through clenched teeth. “Go take a look and tell me what you think.”

He stands and shakes his towel out onto the floor, promising to sweep up the mess in a minute. Then he hurries up the stairs, and from the second-floor bathroom, he calls out. “It looks good!”

I release a nervous breath, glad to be done with that. Now, on to coffee.

Nate comes bounding back down the stairs, somehow better looking than before. So help me, if he ever trimmed his beard, I would pass out on the spot. Just up and die right then and there.

“Okay, sweep up while I make coffee, and then take a seat,” I tell him. “I’m calling a meeting.”

He looks over at me with an expression that says,Who do you think you’re talking to?

I swallow and try not to lose all my confidence. “You promised me a conversation about work, and now I’m going to make good on it.”

CHAPTER 9

NATE

I pullthe chair back from the kitchen table and take a seat with my coffee.

Summer is already sitting across from me, prepared as if she’s going into corporate battle. She’s found pens and lined them up neatly. There are two notepads (presumably one for each of us) and a spiralbound booklet that’s as thick as a textbook. The title on the cover readsCosmosTrilogy Notes.

Good lord.

“10 minutes,” I tell her before taking a sip of my coffee.

She made a fresh pot, and it’s good. I’ll be sad to go back to my crappy stuff when she leaves.

She frowns. “Until…?”

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