“That’s bullshit too. We’ve been hanging out long enough for me to know you’re not the guy who showed up this morning. You’re just not. I see you, Nathan West. You’re the guy who carries his niece on his back. Who drops everything to help a troubled student. You’re the guy whose family knows will drop everything to save the world. That’s you. Not this guy. This guy is an asshole.”
I give my attention back to the road before I say something I regret. The sky is blue and the ocean peeks out between the houses, glittering in the morning sun. Palms bend in a gentle breeze. Given the atmosphere in the car, I’d expect arctic winds and rumbling thunder, but the world doesn’t care about petty dramas like ours.
Nathan clears his throat, then risks a quick glance my way. “Kissing you bothered me.”
His voice is low, almost tortured. I tear my gaze off the idyllic landscape and focus on the storm-ravaged man beside me. The muscle in his jaw clenches and he looks ashamed.
Here I was, daydreaming about million-dollar kisses and he was what? Grossed out?
“Okay. Wow. I’m…” I fling my hand around, looking for something to say. “I’m sorry it was so awful for you.”
Dear God. Looking for a lightning bolt here. Yours, Mina Blake.
There’s a dreadful moment of silence where I consider telling him to turn around and take me home. How can I get through another day of charming Nathan when this is the reality?
But then, “It bothered me because I liked it.”
His words send my heart into overdrive. My confusion trips over itself, oh so helpfully offering ten different reasons it might bother him that he liked kissing me.
He’s secretly gay.
He’s in love with someone else.
He’s embarrassed to be seen with me.
I have terrible breath.
His family prefers arranged marriages.
Nathan glances over, brows furrowed, and I realize that now I’m the one letting horrible silences linger.
I tuck my hair behind my ear. Suck in my lips. Glance at him and start to apologize, but I have no idea why. Finally, I murmur, “I liked it too.”
“I liked it so much I went home and jerked off, thinking of you.” His eyes burn with the admission. My core throbs and I lick my lips as my nipples pebble. I picture him, dick in hand, eyes closed, head back, lips parted…
All because of me.
“And I know I shouldn’t have done it,” he continues, “and I definitely shouldn’t have told you, but that’s why I’m hungover. Whiskey was the only thing stronger than you.”
“I…” What am I supposed to say? I’m flattered? I want you too? I wish you’d do it again and let me watch?
But Nathan isn’t waiting for a response. He’s a man at confession, head bowed, tortured by his sins.
“And all of that bothered me because of this.” He digs in his pocket and pulls out a folded check. He hands it to me, and that dreadful silence descends again. I take the money, pinching it between my thumb and forefinger like I’m afraid to touch it. This complicates everything, but I can’t not take it.
“Nathan, I…” I swallow hard, ready to tell him about my mom so he understands why I have to take the money, but he flips on his turn signal and pulls into a driveway filled with his cousins and their spouses.
He stops the car and stares for a long moment. His lips part and he takes a breath and the look on his face is a warning. What he just said changes everything, but what he’s about to say scares him even more.
“That check is for the design work. Not the dates. Not the kiss. Not our time together. Those are mine.” Nathan’s gaze is intense as his cousin Angela pulls open his car door.
“There you are! I do miss the days when you were always on time instead of constantly running late.” She leans in and waves.
I’ve never been so disappointed to see a friendly face.
TWENTY-ONE
Nathan
Garrett’s boat glides through the water. Mina leans on the rail, watching the horizon. A warm breeze lifts her hair off her shoulders, and she turns to catch me staring. The sky matches her eyes, bright and blue and clear. The corners of her lips twitch upwards and she drops her gaze before giving her attention back to Angela and Micah’s wife, Ivy.
What the hell was I thinking?
Not the dates. Not the kiss. Not our time together. Those are mine.
Who says something like that? Worse, who says something like that right after admitting he jerked off and right before it becomes impossible to talk about either thing?
What a stupid, stupid move.
What’s Mina thinking?
What happens next?
Where do we go from here?
There’s no undo. No going back. No claiming my actions were for show or that she misunderstood or I was caught up in the moment. By admitting how I’m feeling, I irrevocably changed things between us. For better or worse, that’s yet to be seen.
Micah claims the seat beside me, shit-eating grin fully engaged, elbows on knees, already half laughing at whatever he’s about to say.
