Nate lay awake, staring at the reflection over the dresser. Most of Cara’s hair had come free from her braids. It was so pale it seemed to glow in the moonlight coming through the top of the old, arched windows.

This was bad.

And good.

Holy shit, she’d waylaid him in the best way possible. At least there at the end. He had no idea things had gotten so rough for her over the last few years. She’d hidden it well. Then again, had he bothered to really ask? All those hours spent talking about nothing at all, was that because she couldn’t tell him the truth?

He stroked her back and kissed the top of Cara’s head.

His whole life, for all of the good parts, Cara had been there. When his dad had moved them into that ratty little apartment after mom passed away, he’d thought things couldn’t get worse.

And then, there was Cara.

This strange, weird girl from next door. She smiled when everyone else frowned. She’d offered him friendship when he hadn’t deserved it.

God, could he get any more fucked up?

What was he going to tell Ellie?

His heart was always Cara’s. He’d long since accepted that, but his body...he had needs. Particular needs that Ellie understood. They were friends. With similar likes, which had easily turned into benefits.

How the hell was he going to manage this?

Cara was...fragile. She needed to be treated with care. She was practically virginal, and he... His tastes ran to the more adventurous side. She was never going to understand. And with where she was, the last thing Nate was going to ask her to do was let him tie her up.

He wasn’t truly kinky, not like the books or the movies, but he did like...having his way. Being free to explore.

Besides, tomorrow when Cara woke up, sober and in the light of day, would she still feel the same? Or had tonight been the alcohol?

If it were the product of liquor and hard times... God, he should have stopped. Taken a cold shower. Something besides... Yeah, he wasn’t that good of a guy, no matter what Cara thought of him. He was a rotten bastard.

Still, a part of him wanted to be the person she needed. Someone who could be there for her. Hold her. Help her through the tough times. The way she’d been there for him. But that was a pipe dream.

Wasn’t it?

Cara shifted in her sleep, rolling away from him. It was too warm to stay pressed up close, but he still missed the feel of her against him. Simply watching her sleep made him...happy. In a way he hadn’t been for a long time.

Guilt ate at him, deep down.

He had to do something.

Right now.

Before someone got hurt.

Nate rolled out of bed, grabbed his clothes and tip toed out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He got dressed, rolling the decision around in his mind.

This was the thing to do.

Ellie would understand.

Nate grabbed his cell phone out from the couch cushions, shoved his feet in his running shoes and let himself out of the apartment. He didn’t power on his phone until he got to the street, and then he walked a block, picking and choosing his words.

Ellie would understand?

He hoped so.

Nate hit dial and stared back toward his apartment. He could see his bedroom window from here. The light still off.

“Hey, sexy,” Ellie purred. Shit. Stuff must have gone bad, if she was calling him names. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. You free?”

“No, hey, we need to talk. You busy?” His gut churned. This was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?

“Nope.” Ellie groaned. He could imagine her stretching. The background sounds muted and silence descended on them.

“Cara’s here.” He dropped those two words, knowing they were a verbal bomb.

“What? Now?” All the air seemed to be sucked out of the atmosphere for a single moment.

“Yeah. We’re together. Or something.”

“And...you—what? Weren’t going to tell me? Christ. I knew she was coming, but I thought you’d at least give me an idea when.”

“No. I didn’t want you to...I don’t know. Get ideas.”

“Well, I have a lot of ideas now, Nate. What the hell?” Her voice kept rising, higher and higher.

“Look, I didn’t want to tell you—”

“Why not?”

“Because of everything going on with Patrick.”

“I’m over him, Nate.”

“I know, but with him and Aaron giving you hell...I just didn’t want to give you something else to...”

“To what?” She had that tone, the one that didn’t bode well for him.

“To worry about.”

“So, what? We’re done? You had your fucks and you’re over it? That’s how it is?”

Nate closed his eyes. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. Least of all, someone who’d been a great friend to him. But Ellie wasn’t Cara. He wasn’t going to love her, and he wasn’t going to feel right about being with Cara—for however long—if Ellie still thought they had benefits.

“Ellie. We talked about this, remember?”

“What? About your sad, pathetic crush? She comes to town once and you dump every one of your friends? Yeah. Awesome. Don’t call me Monday, when she leaves and you want somewhere to stick your dick.”

“Ellie—Ellie?”

Fuck, this was a disaster.

He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt either Cara or Ellie. Not coming clean to Ellie at the soonest possible second would make things worse if—and it was a big if—Cara meant what she said. Hiding his benefits with Ellie from Cara would...devastate her. She wouldn’t understand that the only reason he’d slept with Ellie was because he needed someone to hold, someone who wouldn’t want his heart, because it was Cara’s.

God damn it.

Nate opened his eyes, the brilliant crescent of light shining back at him like a beacon.

Cara was up.

And he wasn’t there.

He jogged back toward the apartment, following his heart.

Ellie was hurting, but when things calmed down, she’d understand. It wasn’t like they’d stop being friends, though he’d have to admit, if Cara was in his life, things would change. What mattered was that Ellie wasn’t alone anymore. She had friends now, and she’d get by without him, if it came to that.

His number one concern now had to be Cara.

Nate let himself back into the apartment. All the lights were on and he could hear the water going in the bath behind the kitchen.

Cara’s bag was gone from the sofa, leaving him with nothing to do but wait for her.

He toed off his shoes and grabbed some goldfish crackers out of the pantry.

What did he say to her? She’d mumbled something between their trips to the bathroom, and while he’d been mustering the nerve to...talk to her, she’d passed out.

It was going to be awkward.

It was Cara.

Her name was Cara-bear Awkward Shortcake Logan, after all.

But he had to try to say the right thing. Because she mattered. Because what they did next might change the course of their whole relationship.

She’d said she loved him.

He loved her.

But it wasn’t that simple.

She’d chugged Loki and that did funny things to some people’s heads.

What if...

Oh, God, what if she didn’t remember?

The bathroom door squeaked open and Cara stepped out, her bag in hand...wearing...what the hell was that?

“Are those footie pajamas?” He squinted, his contacts a little gummy from too much wear.

“Yes.” Cara glanced down at herself.

“Is that...PAC-MAN?” He took a few steps closer, fascinated and a little horrified.

“Yeah. What? It’s winter. My feet get cold.”

“It’s California. It might get into the fifties at night.”

“So?” There was the tiniest note of strain in her voice, telling him to back off.

“It’s cute. Want some?” He held the bag of crackers out to her.

She’d rebraided her hair and washed her face, removing any trace of their time together. Did she regret it? Was she trying to pretend it hadn’t happened?

“I’m really thirsty. For something not Loki.” She wrinkled her nose.

“I told you it was dangerous.” He set the crackers on the island and got her a glass of water instead.

Cara stood at the island, staring at the crackers, oddly silent. He set the water down in front of her and poured the crackers into a bowl for easier sharing. This was going to take a bit to get through. He couldn’t pretend they hadn’t just...made love. And that’s what it was.

She sipped the water. He watched her eat a few crackers, never once looking at him.

How to begin?

He’d loved her for years, but he could barely talk about it. He was a chicken, scared of confrontation. But good things were worth fighting for.

“Cara?”

“Hm?” Her brows lifted and she tipped her chin up, but her eyes were locked on the crackers.

“Are we going to avoid the elephant in the room?”

“You have an elephant?” She glanced around, and he couldn’t quite tell if she was joking or serious.

“No, silly.”

“Then what are we talking about?”

“We just had sex.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” She pushed the sleeves of her pajamas up. It was far too warm for fleece like that, but this was Cara, and she’d do what she wanted.

If this were years ago, Nate would have brushed the whole thing under the rug and pretended nothing had happened. He wouldn’t shake the boat. But that was before a lot of things. Leaving home, the journey to where he was now, had changed him. And one thing he’d learned in the Navy was that he had to tackle problems head on. Waiting on others to act first put the ball in their court.

“I love you, Cara.”

Her chin tipped up more and she finally looked at him. Her eyes were wide, magnified by her glasses, until they seemed to take up her whole face. She stopped chewing and just...stared at him. Did she have regrets? Had she been too drunk to speak the truth? If she didn’t remember...he might go take a long drink in the ocean. Fuck, that would be the worst. He’d—

“I...um...thought, I guess...oh, boy.” Cara gripped the edge of the island.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just...I need to sit down.” She pushed off the island and teetered to the sectional, perching on the arm, facing the windows.

“I shouldn’t have...kissed you. Fuck.” Nate scrubbed a hand over his face.

She hadn’t meant it. Any of it. It was the alcohol and this trip. She had a lot going on. So she’d, what? Used him? He didn’t feel particularly used.

“I wanted you to kiss me,” she said, her voice crystal clear. No waver. “I’ve wanted that for a long time. It’s just...a lot to process. I kinda...thought...maybe it was a dream. Or something. I don’t know. I guess...maybe...um...”

Nate stared at Cara, playing that one line over and over again in his head.

I wanted you to kiss me.

It stood to reason she wanted...everything else, too? Or had he taken what he wanted?

If he’d scared, or hurt, Cara...

“Will you say something?” She twisted to look at him.

“Sorry, just processing.” He pushed off the island and slowly walked toward her. “Are you...okay?”

“I’m sitting.”

“Yeah,” he sank down to sit on the chaise part of the sectional beside her, “but are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She blinked at him.

“Cara, we had sex, we both said I love you, so I think we might want to...talk about it.”

“That happened.” She nodded.

“Yes.”

“Okay. What are we talking about?” She twisted to face him, one leg folded under her.

Cara was so...Cara. He chuckled.

“What? We’re talking, right?” She frowned at him.

“Yeah, sorry.” He reached for her hand, something he’d done a thousand times, but this time it...felt different.

“I’m okay. You’re okay? What else?” Her voice was ratcheting up, tighter and tighter.

“Cara, there’s not a checklist or anything. Come here.” He tugged on her hand.

She leaned toward him, wooden, stiff. He reached over, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to his side. She didn’t squawk or wiggle, which was enough to tell him she was reaching a breaking point.

He kissed the top of her head and stroked her back. She relaxed by degrees. First, she tilted her shoulder, then she leaned into him, and finally she sighed and slung her arm around his waist.

There. That was better.

Did he dare?

She hadn’t rejected him or made excuses. She was just...awkward Cara.

He bumped her chin with his knuckle. She tipped her head up, staring at him with the same open trust that’d waylaid him years ago.

He dared.

Nate leaned down and gently brushed his lips across hers. She jumped, as though shocked, but didn’t move away, so he kissed her again, keeping it sweet. His needs were...darker. He’d have to tread carefully here.

“There,” he whispered. “Let’s talk about that.”

“What about it?” Her hand splayed against his chest, so small and dainty.

“Do you like it when I kiss you?”

“Yes.” Her cheeks were pink, but she didn’t hesitate.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?”

“Yes. Now?”

“I can. Or later.”

“Now.”

That was a dangerous request, but one he couldn’t deny.

He dipped his head and kissed the tip of her nose.

She frowned at him, but didn’t call him on the misdirection.

“Cara, did you...want to have sex? With me?”

“Yes.” Her answer was slower, her cheeks redder.

He kissed her lips, a bit harder this time.

She wanted to kiss him, and she’d wanted him. It was like Christmas all over again, only better because it was Cara.

Nate stroked her cheeks and lifted his face from hers. In his wildest dreams, he’d never seriously considered this version of reality. If he was living a Loki-induced dream, he didn’t want to wake up.

“Are we going to talk about the other part now?” she asked, her tone wary.

“Which part?”

“The...I love you part?”

So, not the part where he’d asked her to hold onto the headboard while he had his way with her.

Got it.

That was a relief.

“People say stuff they don’t mean during sex. Just because I said it doesn’t mean you have to.” He was willing to wait. If she wanted to kiss him, make love, that was fine. She didn’t have to say words she didn’t mean. The feelings would come. Wouldn’t they? Or...was he just something familiar she was clinging to in the midst of the hurricane?

“Did you mean it?” She tilted her head to the side. Sometimes she was awkward about the silliest things, and others, she got right to the heart of the matter.

“Yes.” He stroked her hair, because this close he could.

“I’m a wreck, Nate. Why would you love me?” She sat up and folded her hands in her lap.

“Do you remember, we were like...fifteen...it was the first week of school, and you guys all had third lunch?”

“And you were alone in first.” She reached for his hand, frowning.

“You gave up AP Lit so you could have lunch with me.”

Cara glanced up at him, her nose scrunched and one brow raised, as if to say of course I did, silly goose.

“Nate...I switched so we would have lunch and biology together.”

“Oh...yeah...”

He blinked, the memories of biology a lot fuzzier than the crystal clear moment when, sitting at the long table by himself, Cara had been there with her brown paper bag lunch. She’d drawn Power Rangers on it, if his memory was accurate, and she’d brought him a cookie. He’d just stared at her while she chattered on about...something. Changing her life, her schedule, so he wouldn’t be alone was so her way. They were the geekiest of the geeks, even other nerds made fun of them. But Cara didn’t care. And with her sitting across the table from him every day for two semesters...neither had he.

“I switched my classes around because...because I was already in love with you.”

Nate stared at Cara, staring at him.

“Why...did you never say anything?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“I just...thought...I mean...” It was his turn to stammer.

So many years lost. Opportunities wasted. Because he’d assumed.

Nate reached over and pulled her into his lap. This time she squawked, kicked one leg out and flailed, but she wound up across his thighs anyway. He squeezed her to him.

He could be different. Good. For her. Because that was what she needed, and his heart wanted her.

“I’m dying. This is too hot. You’re killing me.” Cara pulled on the neckline of her pajamas.

“Unzip it a little.”

“Can’t.”

“Is it stuck?”

“I’m not wearing a bra!”

“...so?”

“Nate!” She smacked his arm.

“What? I wouldn’t mind.” He grinned.

Her cheeks were the reddest yet, just driving home the point that deep down, Cara was still pure.

“I need to—to change.” She wiggled off his lap and stalked back toward the bathroom, snagging her bag on the way.

He watched her go, grinning at her little sashay. It probably wasn’t even intentional. Knowing Cara, she probably had a wedgie. Still, it was Cara, and she was the reason his heart beat.