I get out of the car, cross in front, open her door to take her elbow and pull her out with me.
“What are you doing?” she squawks as I drag her up the steps and stop in front of her door while a stunned Ms. Markowitz and her cat watch with enough interest to be Fallon fucking Mae drafting her next headline.
Wouldn’t that be a kick to the gut?
If Fallon Mae turned out to be Mina’s neighbor and she didn’t think that was something I should know?
“Unlock it.” I rattle the doorknob to make my point.
“What?” Mina steps back, eyeing me like I might be dangerous. “Why?”
“Please,” I add, as gently as possible. “Just unlock it.”
Frowning, Mina does as I ask. I open the door, tenderly shove her inside, then close it between us while she squeaks in dismay. With a deep sigh, I remove my sunglasses, scrub my face, and conjure a smile before smoothing my shirt, squaring my shoulders, and ringing the bell.
The door flies open to reveal a distraught Mina. “What the hell, Nathan?”
“Good morning, HM,” I say. “You look absolutely gorgeous as usual.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Arms crossed. Chin jutted. Brows furrowed. Eyes glittering.
I have a way to go to earn her forgiveness.
“Treating you the way you deserve to be treated.”
“Does that mean I get to treat you the way you deserve? Because I don’t know how much you’ll like that.” That ball-busting glee is back in her eyes, right where it belongs.
“You be you and all will be good.”
There’s a pause followed by a strange smile, Mina steps back outside and locks the door again. With my hand firmly on her lower back, I guide her to the passenger side, open the door, then close it gently once she’s safely inside.
“It was nice to meet you,” I say to Ms. Markowitz as I cross in front of the car for the fourteenth time. She nods, petting her cat and watching with curiosity.
After the last twenty-four hours I know one thing for sure:
I want to be a better man for Mina Blake.
TWENTY
Mina
I woke up this morning excited to see Nathan. Listening to the Dietzes scream about who is failing who all night long made me realize that feeling truly seen and understood by a partner is rare. As Mrs. Dietz hollered about video games and Mr. Dietz bellowed about the lack of sex and Mrs. Dietz retorted that she had to respect someone to be attracted to them, I kept flashing back to how I feel when I’m talking to Nathan. He listens. He cares. He doesn’t want to, but he does. And that kiss…
People write poems about kisses like that. Books make millions over kisses like that. And it just happened to me in a parking lot, with a man I’m supposed to hate, even though somewhere along the way, I think we both stopped faking whatever this is and missed the message.
Then I opened the door on a bridge troll dressed in Nathan’s clothes. Dread took the place of excitement and I realized I’d spent the whole night fooling myself. This is The Prince of Darkness, the man my best friend claims has started using his powers for evil, the guy who’d rather lie to his family than fix whatever’s broken in him.
After his whole ‘starting over’ display, the only thing I know for sure is that his bad mood is contagious. What he said and did was sweet, but can I trust it was genuine? There was an audience, after all.
Which version of Nathan is real? The bridge troll with a hangover dropping red flags like a mad man? Or the Romeo trying to be ‘what I deserve?’ Would he have said or done any of that if we were alone? Or did Ms. Markowitz and her cat watching have something to do with his change in attitude? I could ask him, but I’m not sure which answer I’m hoping for. I opt for silence instead and Nathan seems fine with that decision.
Which pisses me off.
I try to talk myself out of anger while he quietly navigates us away from the rundown neighborhood surrounding my apartment. With each click of the turn signal, the price tags on the homes gain a few more zeroes and that doesn’t help my mood. I’m a good person—mostly—and my mom is a freaking angel. Why do we struggle while others have luck and abundance raining down on them?
The game is rigged.
Or I never got the rule book.
Or…something.
“Wanna explain the hangover?” I cross my arms and twist in my seat to glare at the man who has everything but still can’t be happy.
Maddeningly, an unreadable smile lifts his lips. “Not particularly.”
“How about why you were so rude this morning? Feel like explaining that?” I bite into the words and it feels so damn good, I lift my chin in righteous fury.
Anger is safer than everything else I’m feeling. I’ll hide here for a while.
“I thought we already covered the fact that I’m hungover.” His voice is calm, his face composed.
I roll my lips together before shooting back, “And didn’t you just say I deserve better?”
“You’re right. You do.” Nathan runs his hand through his hair. “I just don’t know if I have better in me.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You spent a lifetime being better until whatever happened to make you bitter instead.”
His eyes narrow. “You don’t know me well enough to say things like that.”
