Page 64 of Fighting Words

“Have you? Seen anyone, I mean?” I desperately hoped the answer would be yes, so that we could share in the burden of guilt.

He chuckled. “No. I’ve been working like a dog. And well…” He clears his throat. “I’ve been missing you.”

His admission hurt.

“I really am so—”

“Summer.” He forced a laugh. “It’s fine. I swear it is. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He never asked me who I kissed, and I never volunteered the information. Now, though, sitting in Nate’s car while he drives us to Kendal, I wonder if that lie of omission will continue to haunt me.

I look down and then oh-so-carefully peer over at Nate. His face is in profile, his narrowed gaze focused on the road. He looks lost in thought, so lost he doesn’t notice me staring. I wonder what’s on his mind. I hope it’s something to do with the plot ofA Cosmic Penance. That’s what we’re calling it now, the third book.

I should want him to be feverishly working on it, though maybe not too fast, because once we get a rough outline of the book, I’m not sure I’m needed here anymore. Surely once he starts writing, InkWell will call me home for my hero’s welcome. I can’t be expected to stay here in his cottageforever. The realization comes with an unhealthy twinge of sadness. I shouldn’t want to stay. This is just a business trip. My real life is waiting for me back in New York. Andrew, my parents, my job, my little cubicle on the fourteenth floor. I have an ivy plant there that someone is watering for me, a stapler Ijustbought. Even if this part of England is beautiful, I have to go home.

Nate’s gaze slides to me, and his mouth curves with a secret smile.

“You’re staring.”

Caught red-handed.

“Yes, out past your window.” I say this likeDuh, don’t flatter yourself.“I didn’t realize how beautiful it is here.”

The lie is so smooth he doesn’t call me on it, but who cares about dumb views when I have Nate to stare at?

God.Thoughts like that are going to get me in trouble. I can’t get carried away with this silly crush I have on him. I have to think ahead a week, a month, a year.

Nate glances out the window and nods. “Yeah, this drive is one of my favorites in all of England. The farms and pastures, all the wild vines and trees…”

I smile. “You love it, don’t you? You’d go full primitive if you could. Caveman loincloth and everything.”

He has a hard time stifling his grin. “I do like running water and electricity, but I don’t miss the other stuff, endlessly scrolling on my phone… I guess I just enjoy the quiet.”

Shockingly, I get it. “I thought I’d have a harder time adjusting. I’ve been known to binge a show or two. Andrew and I—” I halt suddenly, like I’ve said something wrong. I didn’t though. I can talk about my life back in the States, and Andrew is a huge part of it.

“Andrew and you?” Nate prompts.

“We like watching reruns ofFriends.”

He nods but doesn’t mention anything more. Maybe he’s not a bigFriendsguy. Maybe he prefersSeinfeld.

If there was a nice atmosphere in the car before now, I just killed it by bringing up Andrew. This is getting complicated. Nate and I should have just talked about all the awkward sexual things the day after our hookup, but now too much time has passed, and if I bring it up, it’ll seem like I’ve been thinking about it nonstop—which of course, I have. There’s barely a five-minute stretch where I don’t recall Nate’s face literally pressed between my legs!

I reach forward and lower the heat. Suddenly, it’s too hot in this car.

“Once we get to Kendal, would you mind dropping me off at a coffee shop while you run errands? I need to send a few emails and stuff.”

“And stuff” mostly involves calling Andrew. We haven’t talked since Tuesday, and I do worry this distance isn’t good for us. Maybe I would be thinking about Nate’s mouth and where I would like to feel it slightlylessif I had more reliable communication with Andrew. I do think “out of sight, out of mind” is starting to be a problem, though I refuse to admit that to Nate.

“Sure, yeah. There’s a great place I love. When I first moved to England, I’d try to work there every now and then.”

“No luck?” He looks at me deadpan, and I can’t help but smile. “Come on, it’s not so doom and gloom now, right? We’re plotting! We’re getting somewhere! I might actually convince you to leave Amelia and Marcus alone…”

His hands tighten on the wheel. “Not going to happen. I thought of another scene for her and Julian this morning, a pivotal moment in the book, actually.”

“Really?” I perk up, turning toward him with eagerness. “Something you haven’t told me?”

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