The smile on my face hasn’t budged since this afternoon with Amelia. I don’t know why I’ve never seen it before. When I think back now I can see the way I always took notice every time she walked into a room or chose to sit beside her around a table of empty chairs.
Since the beach I’ve been thinking of ways I can get her alone, so when Tris offered the opportunity to find out what was wrong with her, I jumped at the chance. I know I would've found another way, but this worked just fine.
What I wasn't expecting was for her to make the first move, though I'm glad she did. Kissing her was nothing like the other women I've been with. I've never been a serious relationship type of guy. Being tied down isn’t my style, or at least it wasn’t in the past.
In college I dated for a while, but nothing concrete ever formed and I guess I know why now. It never felt like this with any of them.
She says she doesn’t want Tris knowing we’re spending time together, and that works fine for me—for now. I want to get to know her outside of Tris and the kids. I want to be a part of her life that doesn't paint me as the boss’s best friend, and I want her to be able to tell me anything because I know for a fact she was lying when she told me she has a shopping addiction. Her face screamed “help” before she slammed down her walls and covered it up with humor. If she's in trouble or needs my help, I want her to trust me enough to come to me.
I pull up the gravel driveway to my parents’ house, smiling as memories of growing up in the large, white colonial come flooding back to me. A large oak stands tall to the left: it was the tree I fell out of and broke my arm when I was seven.
I park in front of one of the two garages and climb out of my car, taking the few steps and walking in.
“Honey, I'm home!” I call out into the entryway.
“Is that you, Nate? I'm in the kitchen,” Mom shouts back.
“Nate!” I look up at the top of the stairs and see Maya, my younger sister, sitting on the handrail.
My protective side kicks in. “You be careful on there.”
She rolls her eyes and slides down effortlessly, her dark-brown hair flowing behind her. “I think you're getting old. Two years ago you would've come up there and slid down with me.”
I pull her in for a hug and she squeezes me back. “You're getting too cheeky for your own good,” I tell her. “How old are you now? Twenty?”
“Fifteen, loser.”
I let go of her and she smiles, but my gaze scans her face in scrutiny. “What have you got on your face?”
She shies away from me. “What? Nothing.”
“Oh my God. Are you wearing makeup?”
“Leave me alone,” she squeaks, practically running into the kitchen.
I follow her, kissing my mom on the cheek and dipping my finger into the sauce she's stirring.
“Hey! You're a grown man now, you've got to stop dipping your fingers where they're not wanted!” I look at Maya and we both break out into raucous laughter. “What? I—eww, guys! Grow up!”
“What's this about growing up?” I hear Dad say from behind me. I turn and smile at the grin on his face. “Hi, son.”
“Hey, Dad.” We clap each other on the back before I take a seat at the wooden table at the back of the kitchen. He sits down in the place opposite me and I tilt my head toward Maya who is sitting cross-legged on the bench beside me. “Maya's wearing makeup.”
“Shut up!” She slaps me on the arm and I feign hurt.
“She is not,” Mom says, pulling something out of the oven, unaware of the black stuff Maya seems to have painted on her eyelashes and the glossy liquid that's coating her lips.
“She is,” I retort.
“You're no longer my favorite brother,” she whispers under her breath.
“I’ll survive. Besides, I’m your only brother.” I stick my tongue out at her like a child and turn my attention to Dad. I'm the spitting image of him. His eyes are the same shade of green as mine and his hair is a dark brown with salt-and-pepper strands beside his temples. The only thing I got from my mom is her angular cheekbones. She has hazel eyes and dark-blond hair, but both us kids look like Dad, apart from Maya’s softer features.
“How's the firm?” Dad asks, true to form.
“Set to be one of the best in the city, as always.”
He beams with pride and knocks on the table twice. “Hear that, hon? Our boy’s going to give us a run for our money.”
“Hardly. Your old company is still sitting pretty at number one.”
He shrugs. “And I want to see you bypass that old place.”
My dad took some time off from work so he and my mom could spend some well-deserved time together after she had an operation on her knee. She needed help and he wouldn't let her hire someone. That was three years ago and he hasn't gone back since. He retired early and sold his company. Now Mom is healed and the majority of the time pain free, they take regular vacations. Maya stays with me when she doesn't go with them.
“I'm working on it,” I state, smiling as he gets up and helps Mom by slicing the loaf of bread on the counter. I watch as they work effortlessly side-by-side. Being together for over thirty years means you get to know every little thing about one another. They seem to be just as in love now as when they first met when Mom was eighteen and Dad twenty-five.
I turn my attention to Maya who is staring down at the cell in her hands. “Who you talking to?”
She hides the screen and tuts. “None of your business.”
My hackles go up and I lean closer. “Are they the reason you're wearing makeup?”
“Mooommm! Tell Nate to stop ruining my life.”
Mom swivels to face us and gives me her best stern look while pointing her finger. “Nate, stop ruining your sister's life.”
Everyone chuckles but I'm still not done with Maya. I can't help but be protective over her since she's seventeen years my junior.
“Come on, just tell me who you're messaging. I promise I won't make fun.”
She rolls her eyes and pulls her knees up against the table. “It's no one. He's just a friend.”
“Whoa. A ‘he’?” My gaze flicks over to Dad who is leaning against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. “There's a ‘he’?”
“Apparently so, but your sister is pretty tight-lipped about him.”
“There is no ‘he’!” she shouts before storming out of the room.
“Must you tease her so much? Being fifteen is a hard enough age without having your dad and brother on your case.”
“But… she shouldn't even have a ‘he,’” I say, my gaze running between my parents.
Mom sighs but doesn't say another word as she pours the contents of the pot she was stirring into a ceramic dish. Dad starts bringing them over to the table and I stand to help.
“Go and get your sister, please. I know it's hard to get your head around her being at the age where she's interested in boys, but be nice,” he says with a wink.
“Nice. Got it.”
Making a beeline for the stairs, I take them two at a time, walking down the long hallway to the end room before knocking twice. “Maybug?”
“What?”
I chuckle at her grumpy tone. “Can I come in?”
I wait with bated breath before I hear footsteps and the door flings open. I look around the white room. One of the walls is wallpapered with dusky-pink-and-white-striped paper, the accents in the room all white and stylish. I walk onto the plush cream carpet, it reminding me of Amelia's and smile.
She climbs onto her four-poster bed, picking up her acoustic guitar and strumming it absentmindedly. “Dinner’s ready.” She ignores me. “I didn't mean to make fun of you, but we don't keep secrets, we never have.”
“It's not a secret, I just don't want to tell you.”
I chuckle. “That's a secret, Maybug.”
A slight smile curves up the corner of her lips at the nickname I've always used for her. “He's just a friend.”
I nod, clearing my throat. “And does this… friend have a name?”
She looks out of her window that has a beautiful view of the horse stables out the back. “Jake. But that's all I'm telling you.”
I decide to leave it at that because it's how we work: I push a little until she tells me just enough and then I back off, waiting for her to come to me. And she always does. Even though there's a huge age difference between us, we've always been close.
I stand up and walk over to her door. “Dinner’s ready.”
“You already said that,” she states, standing up and setting her guitar into the stand in the corner of the room.
“Yeah, but I didn't know if you heard me over your big love crush on Jake.”
“Nate!” she shouts as she runs after me, her hand raised in the air.
We run all the way to the kitchen, skidding to a stop in front of Mom who is holding out a basket toward us. “You know the drill.”
I reach into my pocket, pulling out my cell and placing it on top of Mom and Dad’s. Maya holds her finger up as she types and then puts hers in reluctantly. I can't remember ever having my cell at the table at home. My mom and dad have always said it's a huge distraction and family dinners are for catching up and not staring at a tiny screen. I completely agree and try to do it everywhere I go. It makes people feel like you're there with them and interested in what they have to say instead of being submerged into a small device.
We all sit down and dish up the delicious-smelling lasagna Mom has made.
“I've been meaning to ask: why are you still in work clothes?” Mom asks.
I shrug. “I finished work early and went to see Amelia because Tris asked me to. And then I had to run errands so I didn't have a chance to go home and change.”
“Amelia?”
“Yeah. You know her.” I take a mouthful of the lasagna from my plate. “She looks after Izzie and Clay.”
“Oh, yes. Lovely girl.”
Mom and Dad share looks before gazing back at me.
“So why would Tristan ask you to go and see her?” Mom asks again, curiously.
“He asked me to go and check on her. Something about her being upset this morning.”
I brush it off as nothing but I can't help the smile plastered to my face just thinking about her.
Dad continues eating but shoots me a knowing look as Mom wars with herself over saying something.
“Just say it.”
“Do you like her?” She almost spits out like she's been holding it back for days and not mere seconds.
Maya raises a brow at me when I look at her. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
I shake my head. “No, I do not have a girlfriend. But yes, as a matter of fact, I do like her.”
Mom puts down her fork. “But she's Tristan's nanny.”
I wince at that word. “Technically, yes.”
“And he’s okay with you two being together?”
“We're not together, Mom. We haven't even been out on a date... yet.”
She picks up her fork and takes a bite of her food, contemplating what she wants to say. She swallows and smiles. “I'm happy for you, sweetheart.”
“Me too, son. If you're happy, we're happy.”
They don't bring Amelia up again for the rest of the dinner, which is unusual. Normally Maya would be all over this new piece of information like a rash, but she's been distracted all night.
“Maya?” Her head snaps up from the notebook she’s been writing songs in on her lap.
“Mmmhmm?”
“I asked how school was.”
She shrugs. “Same as last week.”
“Still playing volleyball?”
“Yup.”
Trying to talk to her is like pulling teeth, so I turn my attention on my parents. “I'm thinking of having a playhouse built for Izzie and Clay in the yard.”
“You are?” My mom's eyes light up. “They'd love that.”
“I'm not sure about Clay, but Izzie will. Although he has seemed a lot chattier lately since he started going to an art class.”
“That's fantastic to hear. Any other news to tell us oldies?”
Dad scoffs. “Hey, speak for yourself. I'm in my prime.”
“You're fifty-nine, dear. It's time to face the music.” Dad creates circles with his fingers by his head, laughing when she swats at him. “Fifty-nine yet you still act like a child sometimes.”
I chuckle before telling them about mine and Charlotte’s disastrous cookout fail. “I think we're getting back on good terms though, well…” I think back to earlier today and setting up Tris and Harmony. “Maybe not.”
“What do you mean?” Dad asks, leaning forward on the sofa.
“I, erm… I set him and Harmony up on a lunch date today.”
Mom’s eyes widen as big as saucers and Dad scoffs. “You did what?”
I shrug. “It's no big deal. Harmony is Izzie and Clay’s art teacher.”
“But it's Harmony, Nate. You seriously must've lost your mind.”
They met Harmony when I was in college and we were all friends with each other. I never keep anything from my parents and since my dad’s sister is Natalia’s mom, they knew all about how things went down all those years ago.
“We'll see,” I say dismissively.
I want to know how today went, but if I'm honest with myself, I don't want to message either of them in case my mom is right. I think I’ll be a chicken shit for a little while longer and leave them to contact me.
Taking a look at my watch, I decide it's time to head home. I want to say it's because I'm tired, but it's not. I can't stop thinking about my pending date with Amelia and where I want to take her.
I'm not taking her out to dinner: that's too common. She deserves somewhere better.
Sitting up from the rug I'm lying down on and stretching out my arms, I say, “I'm going to head out now, but thanks for dinner, Mom. It was delicious as always.”
I stand and they follow suit, my gaze skirting over to Maya and shaking my head. She's still in the same position she was in when I last looked at her: writing in her notebook while simultaneously staring at her cell.
“Maya, your brother’s leaving,” Mom says.
She lifts her hand in a wave and does a half-grunt so I walk over to her, taking her cell and holding it up in the air. That catches her attention and she's off the loveseat in the corner of the room and standing on her tiptoes in a flash. “Give me my phone!”
“Only if you say goodbye properly.”
“Goodbye.” She stops jumping up and down and holds her hand out. “Now can I have my phone?”
“Nope.”
“Mooommm!” she moans, stomping her foot.
Mom chuckles. “It won't hurt you to be away from your cellphone for more than a minute. Say goodbye.”
She scoffs and stomps ahead of me to the front door. “Fine.”
When there she crosses her arms over her chest and I kiss her cheek. “Bye, Maybug.”
She smiles and throws her arms around my middle. “Bye, life ruiner.”
I chuckle and hand her her cell to which she snatches and looks at the screen, ignoring us all again as she walks toward the stairs.
I shake my head. “I wasn't ever like that, was I?”
“Boy crazy? No,” Dad deadpans receiving laughs from Mom and me.
“No, seriously.”
“No. But times are different now. When you were her age you were out surfing and playing sports whenever you could, there wasn't much in the way of cellphones.”
“True,” I agree with him and give them both a hug.
“Call when you get home,” Mom shouts as I'm climbing into my car.
I shake my head but tell her I will. I may be thirty-two years old but she'll always try to baby me.
I scroll through the messages from Nate this afternoon. It wasn’t until the nerves kicked in after lunch I realized I didn’t even know where we were going on our date. In typical Nate style, he wouldn’t tell me; not that I should have expected anything less.
Amelia: Where are we going tonight?
Nate: It’s a surprise. ;)
Amelia: Come on, Nate. I don’t know what to wear, I haven’t been on a date for… a while.
Nate: Hmmm… How long is a while? A month? A year?
Amelia: I plead the fifth.
Nate: Still not telling you where I’m taking you.
Amelia: Fine. Just tell me what to wear then.
Nate: Clothes?
Amelia: Hardy har… So funny.
Nate: No seriously, clothes. You look good in anything. ;)
Amelia: So if I turn up in jeans and a t-shirt, that’s okay?
Nate: Perfect.
My finger hovers over the keyboard, the time along the top of my screen showing 7:56. Four minutes until he’ll pull up at the bottom of the driveway. Crap. I’m so goddamn nervous I think I may explode. I haven’t been able to get the feel of his lips off mine or forget how his hands felt on my waist for a week.
He makes me feel things I never thought I could. The way my skin comes to life when he touches me, not knowing whether to be cold from goose bumps or hot from his searing touch setting fire to my skin.
Much like my brain: it doesn’t know whether it’s coming or going. Not knowing what to think or feel but going along with it as he has the kind of affect that has me pushing everything aside when I’m with him.
I flick my gaze to the mirror in the bathroom, staring at myself as the pads of my fingers flutter over my tingling lips.
Dropping my arm, I adjust the light-blue bardot top skimming underneath my collarbone, making sure it sits just below the waistband of my light wash skinny jeans. Running my hands over my dark-blond wavy hair, I nod to myself and switch the light off, walking to my bed and sitting on the edge as I push my feet into my black ankle boots with a small block heel.
Nate: I’m here.
Shit shit shit. My breath leaves my body in a burst as my shoulders sag. Am I really doing this? Am I really putting myself out there… with Nate? What if it all goes wrong? What if he gets to know me and doesn’t actually like me? What if—
Nate: Some woman walked past and is watching me. I think she thinks I’m a stalker. You better hurry before she calls the cops or tries to climb in the car with me or something. I wouldn’t blame her, I do look dashing tonight.
My eyes widen as his text pings on my phone and laughter slips out. I need to stop overthinking everything and just enjoy myself. It’s one date. It’s not like the next few hours will change the rest of my life, right?
Shaking my head, I stand up, pushing my shoulders back and grabbing my purse off the coffee table on my way out.
I don’t walk through the main house, instead I head out of the back gate, cursing myself for not picking up a jacket as the wind whips around me on the way down the driveway. There’s no way I’m going back for it now though; if I do, I’m sure I’ll end up talking myself out of it.
The light from the streetlight shines on the side of his Mercedes, flicking my reflection back at me as I get closer.
My shaky hand pulls the door open before I slide into the leather seat. I count to three before turning my head and smiling softly.
“Hey.”
He leans over the console and sweeps me up in a soft kiss. “Hey,” he replies, grinning as he pulls back, leaving me breathless. “You look beautiful.”
“I… thanks.” My gaze runs the length of him: his white shirt is rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his forearms tensing as he grips the steering wheel. “You look handsome,” I say, my eyes focusing on the dark-navy jeans clinging to his thighs.
I jump as laughter bursts from him. “I’ve never had a woman other than my mom call me handsome before.”
Heat licks my cheeks before I turn away slightly. “Well… now you have.” I cringe at myself.
Taking a breath, I try to pull myself together, knowing if I don’t get my nerves under control, this whole night will go to crap.
My body is shoved back as he steps on the gas pedal, driving down the road and away from all of the big houses.
“So…” I start when he’s been driving for a couple of minutes. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”
I raise a brow as his lip quirks up at the corner. “Impatient, aren’t we?”
Huffing out a breath, I flatten my palms on my thighs, looking out the windshield. “I think now may be a good time to tell you I hate surprises.” My voice is flat and I squeeze my eyes shut, not meaning for it to come across like that. But the way things have been the last few weeks; a surprise is the last thing I want or need.
“Duly noted. Can’t say I’ll do anything with that information though because I love planning them.”
“Are you always this…” My eyes widen when I realize I get my opportunity to use my word of the day on him again. “Incorrigible?”
“I’m a creature of habit, what can I say.”
I make a noise in the back of my throat, narrowing my eyes as he takes the tunnel separating the two halves of town. There’s clearly no point in asking where we’re going, again.
My leg starts bobbing up and down, my hand fluttering up to my mouth as I bite the side of my thumb. I keep telling myself I can trust Nate, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.
This is a good surprise, right?
His palm landing on my thigh and stopping the movement has my head snapping up toward him.
“Relax,” he states in a calm voice.
I let his voice flow through me as he pulls up to a stoplight, turning his head to face me, his gaze meeting mine.
“Sorry,” I whisper, my voice sounding big in the small space. “I’m just…” I blow out a breath, my hair fanning out of my face. “I’m nervous.”
“What’s there to be nervous about? We’ve known each other and hung out for six years, just think of it like that.”
“But…” I flit my gaze between his eyes. “This is different… it’s a date. Only you and me. No…” I swallow. “Buffer.”
“Even better, less reason to be nervous. You can just be yourself and let go.”
I open my mouth to say something but he looks away, the light turning green causing him to put his foot down again.
He drums his fingers on the top of the steering wheel, his hand still on my thigh as his thumb rubs back and forth. The sensation has me simultaneously relaxing and on edge.
We pass a sign saying something about plants before Nate pulls into a smaller road, his hand squeezing my thigh.
His throat works as he swallows, bringing his car to a stop and switching the engine off. I don’t move even though I know if I turn around, I’ll be able to see where he’s brought us. Instead, I wait until he looks over at me, the green of his eyes dark and intense.
Tilting my head, I continue to watch him. His lips lift slightly, almost as if they’re not sure whether they want to smile or not before his hand reaches up and rubs along the side of his strong jaw.
He’s nervous, too.
That thought has my nerves taking a back seat; they’re still there, just not driving now.
I don’t move my gaze from his as I get out of the car until I turn around, taking in the dome-shaped building glowing in the dark of the night; blues, purples, and even green lighting from within.
“Where are we?” I ask, my voice small but full of awe.
It’s just light enough that when I turn to look at him, I can see he’s smirking. “You’ll see.” He holds his hand out to me. “Shall we?”
I slowly lift my arm, placing my hand in his and nodding. “Yeah.”
He leads me up the path sitting between two grassed areas, small lights line each side, the same mixture of colors that’s in the circular domes. His dark-brown shoes create an echo along the path in time with my footsteps.
I keep my eyes peeled for some sort of sign as to where we are but there’s nothing, and when we step inside, silence greets me. He doesn’t stop in the small area with a desk and a booth, instead he keeps walking.
“Wow,” I murmur. My hand loosens in his when we walk through the only door, the pads of our fingers touching as I turn around, taking it all in.
To the left are a few rows of blue seats, all fixed to an angle so you can see the top of the dome. It’s not them that have my attention though, it’s the stars and planets sitting on the dome behind them. Ah, planets, as in planetarium—not plants.
So many colors mingle together. At first glance you can’t grasp the beauty of it, but the longer I stare, the more I see the constellations on display.
“You...” I gasp, spinning toward Nate where he stands next to me with possibly the biggest smile on his face I’ve ever seen. “You brought me stargazing?”
He shrugs. “That’s part of it, yeah.”
“What? I—” He tightens his hold on my hand, pulling me closer to him and leaning forward so his lips are only centimeters away from mine. I close my eyes, hating the fact I can’t see the stars anymore when I do.
His lips connect with mine, soft and slow. The sweet, closed mouth kiss ends as soon as it began and he’s pulling away, leading me to the other side of the dome.
“Close your eyes.” I do as he says and trust him to lead me wherever he wants me. “Okay.” We come to a stop. “Open.”
I open them slowly, my stomach dipping when I see a plaid blanket set out on the floor, a basket sitting next to it. “A picnic?” I ask. “Under the stars?”
I’m sure he can hear the fast drumbeat of my heart, but if he does he doesn’t let on. “I hope it’s okay. If you don’t like it we can go somewhere else.”
“No!” I let go of his hand, grasping his forearms. “No… it’s…” I look around me, the romantic atmosphere wrapping around us and placing us in its cocoon. “It’s perfect.”
He nods and motions for me to sit down. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you—” My words are cut off as the room is plunged into darkness for a couple of seconds before the lights flash on again.
My breath catches in my throat as the stars shine bright, moving toward me. I feel Nate sit down next to me as a star shoots across the dome and I lean back when I think it’s going to hit me. The images are so real as they float in and out.
“How did you do that?” I ask, not willing to take my eyes off the show.
“Magic,” he replies, handing me a beer.
I snort, taking it from him and screwing the top off, all the while not taking my eyes off the sky. We float over the top of a yellow and orange planet before mixing in with what looks like rocks.
I feel him shuffle closer, and when his legs come on either side of me from behind, I turn away, staring up at him.
“What are you doing?” I ask as his hands grip my waist, pulling me so his chest is flush with my back. My heart rate speeds up at having him so close to me.
“Sshh, you’re ruining the show,” he jokes.
Swallowing against the emotion in my throat, I turn back around staying as still as I can. I try not to let the effect of his breath fanning across my neck show, but when he turns his head and places a kiss below my ear, I can’t help my eyes fluttering closed.
“You know the stars are really old?” he murmurs in my ear.
“Are they?” I ask, not able to concentrate when he’s this close to me.
“Yep.” He pulls back a few centimeters and when I turn to face him, he’s watching me, his green eyes shining and flashing as the dome projects the lights. “They all range between one and ten billion years old.”
He raises a brow as my eyes widen. “Wow… do you know a lot about stars?”
“Only that,” he says, shrugging.
Smiling softly, I’m rewarded with a grin from him. Neither of us look away, the show finishing behind us as the lights fade out. We’re in a trance, our souls connecting in a way I never thought possible. People talk about soulmates, but I didn’t believe in them—not until this moment.
He clears his throat, breaking the connection before he asks, “You hungry?”
I hate that we can’t sit here and stare at each other all night, because that’s all I want to do. I want to stay inside his arms and never come out of them.
“Starved,” I finally manage to croak out.
Shuffling from between his legs, I move to sit next to him. Reaching over, he pulls a basket closer, the veins in his arms dancing under his skin from the movement. God, that’s so… sexy.
I don’t know how much time passes as he takes all the food out and places it between us because I’m too occupied with staring at his arms. I swipe my tongue along my bottom lip before sitting cross-legged.
“Soup or salad?” he asks, not looking at me and I’m brought out of my staring session, my cheeks heating when I realize what I was doing.
“I’ll take the soup, please,” I answer, picking up a tub filled with croutons , trying to distract myself, but when he looks up at me knowingly, I know I’ve been caught staring.
“You’re blushing,” he says, passing me over a flask that’s still warm.
Taking it from him, our fingers brush but I ignore it, trying to focus on anything else but his… arms. Twisting the top off, I take the bowl he hands me, pouring some into it and then giving it back to him before placing a couple of croutons on top.
“Mmmm,” I say once I’ve put a spoonful in my mouth. “This is delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’d be a shame if you didn’t like my cooking.”
“You made this?” I ask, my eyes wide. “Wowza.”
“Don’t look so surprised, I’m a man of many talents.” He shrugs. “Besides, I love to cook.”
“That’s perfect,” I reply, bringing the spoon to my mouth again. “Because I love to eat and I hate cooking.” The carrot and coriander soup hits my tongue, the flavors exploding in my mouth. “Now, baking. That’s something I love to do.”
“See, we’re the perfect match.” My stomach dips at his words. There’s an insane connection between us I don’t think I’d ever be able to explain. “I have a huge sweet tooth, but I can’t bake.”
“You make me more food like this and I’ll bake you anything and everything you want.”
He opens a container of salad and a jar of what looks like dressing. Pouring it over, his eyes flick up to me as he smiles. “I’m holding you to that.”
I lift up a shoulder before bringing the bowl to my mouth, tipping it up and drinking the last of the best soup I’ve ever had. “Sure. I’ll message you my order and you can reply with one of your own. Call it a business transaction if you’d like.” I chuckle at myself.
Handing him the empty bowl, he reaches for it but I hesitate at the last second. Pulling it back, I pour myself another bowl.
“I want so much more than a business transaction,” he states, his eyes flashing with intensity. Is he feeling what I am, too?
“I…” I swallow, my throat suddenly dry at his honest admission. The way he stares at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters has my pulse racing.
Not knowing what to say, I concentrate on eating the last of the soup, knowing I should really say something before things become awkward. Although, I’m not sure things can ever be awkward with Nate. He takes everything in his stride; nothing seems to rattle him. At least not that I’ve seen over the last six years anyway.
“How’s erm… how’s work?” Did I really ask him that?
His lip lifts at the corner as if he knows what I’m doing. “Work is work. What I really want to know about is you.”
“Me?” Finally handing him the bowl, I lean back on my palms. “What about me?”
He shrugs, shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth and chewing it contemplatively. “Everything. Where are you from, where are you going, what are your hopes and dreams? Tell me anything.”
“Wow.” I feel my throat close up at all of his questions. Do I really want to open up to him so soon? What if he sees me differently when he knows the truth? “Just jumping in there with wanting my life story, huh?”
“Not your whole life story, just most,” he jokes. “How about you start with where you grew up? Was it nice?”
I nod, sitting up and wiping my shaking hands on my thighs. “It was nice. We didn’t live near the sea or by any water, but we had lots of woods surrounding the town.” I smile, thinking about all the exploring I used to do. “There was only me, my mom, and my dad.” I turn my face away from him, fiddling with the lid on a container as I think about my parents who did everything they could for me. “Dad worked a lot of hours and Mom stayed at home when I was little. I always wanted a brother or sister—” I cut myself off, realizing I’m saying too much, but when I look back at him, he gives me an encouraging smile so I continue, “Mom couldn’t have any more kids after me, so yeah... I’m an only child.”
“I wish Maya and I were closer in age sometimes, it would’ve been nice to have had a partner in crime around the house. I had Nata—” His face turns pained for a second before he shakes his head and looks at me. “Maya and I are still close so it’s no big deal.”
I take a silent breath of relief at the conversation turning onto him, so I latch onto it. “It must be hard being a big brother though. How old is Maya now anyway? She has to be a fully-fledged teenager.”
“In all her glory.” He chuckles. “She’s fifteen going on thirty but she’s a good kid. I don’t think we need to worry about her.”
I snort, a chuckle escaping before slapping my hand over my mouth. “Yeah… I… I’m sure you don’t.” I watch several emotions flash over his face: confusion, worry, and finally determination. “She has you to look out for her anyway, so she’ll be good either way,” I say, trying to backpedal. What I really want to say is she’s a teenager, and it doesn’t matter how good a kid she is: she’s still a teenager.
“Yeah…” His eyes flick away. “Want some more food?” He reaches his arm into the basket and pulls out a few more tubs. “There’s plenty.”
I tilt my head to the side, taking in all of his movements and the way his eyes stay focused on anything but me. Could his little sister be the one subject that does rattle him? I hang on to that piece of information as I nod. “Sure, what else has Chef Nate brought?”
“I feel like whatever I pull out now will pale in comparison to my soup,” he says, pulling off the top of the tub he picks up first and offering it to me.
“It was the best soup I’ve ever tasted.” I take the tub, plucking out one of the wraps. “What’s in this?”
“They’re mini chicken fajitas. It’s chicken, onion, pepper, sour cream, guacamole and salsa with a sprinkling of cheddar cheese.”
“Jeez, Nate. I think I just had a foodgasm and I haven’t even put it in my mouth yet.”
He waits a beat, and when his lip quirks, I know he’s about to— “That’s what she said.”
I roll my eyes, not waiting a second longer to take a bite.
Oh my God, how can something wrapped in a tiny package taste so amazing? The chicken is succulent, the onion and pepper having the perfect amount of crunch.
“Yep,” I moan. “I think I’ll keep you.”
The hand lifting his own fajita to his mouth halts in its tracks and a mocking expression flits over his face. “Oh, will you now?”
“Uh-huh.” I nod, taking another bite and swallowing. “I may end up weighing six hundred pounds, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
“Not a chance, if you’re with me you’ll be out hiking and exploring. There’s no way you could gain weight. How do you think I can eat things like this?”
I consider it for a moment, chewing slowly. “Hmmm… hiking and exploring, huh?” I mull it over some more. “I’ll make that deal under one condition.”
He finishes his fajita and leans toward me. “Who said you’re allowed to make demands?”
“If you want the sweet treats then you’ll listen and amend the contract.” I give him my sternest look before putting the last bite of fajita in my mouth, already grieving the loss of the tasty food.
“Oh, I want the sweet treats.” His gaze drops to my legs and he makes a show of slowly checking me out, finishing with his brows raised and a cocky expression on his face as he folds his arms over his chest. “Alright, I’m listening.”
My heart starts beating faster at his full attention. Is that the expression and tone he uses in the courtroom? I wonder if anyone can sit in the gallery? Because if they can then I think it would be my new obsession.
“Netflix,” I blurt out. “You have to commit to one epic binge per month.”
His face stays expressionless as he mulls it over. “Just one?”
“At least one. When I say epic binge, I mean watching two seasons of a show back to back. Showering optional and definitely not any normal clothes: only pajamas or sweats allowed.” I wait a beat. “Oh, and you have to cook for me on demand.” I smirk.
“So your terms for coming hiking and doing outdoorsy things with me are: one binge session a month, including two seasons of back-to-back viewing of a show. Sweatpants a must but showering optional?”
I point my finger at him. “Don’t forget the food you’ll be cooking and serving.”
“One binge session a month of back-to-back viewing of a show, sweatpants a must but showering optional and becoming your personal chef and butler. Have I got that right?”
Nodding emphatically, I say, “Yep.”
“Alright. And now I have a few terms of my own.” He grins cheekily. “You need to try and keep up with me when we’re hiking.” I roll my eyes. He has no idea I’ll not only be able to keep up, but will have him trailing after me. “And… showering is not optional. It’s a requirement. Except…”
“Except?”
“It’ll be a requirement to take a break from binging to shower with me.”
I purse my lips. “Ahhh… so it’s only a requirement when it’s with you?” I ask, flitting my gaze between his eyes before dipping to his lips.
“That’s right, gotta conserve water and all that jazz.”
“All for the good of the environment, I’m sure.” Tilting my head, I let him stew while I pretend to think about it, but inside I’m already imagining what those forearms would look like with water raining over them. Holding my hand out, I say, “You have yourself a deal.”
He places his large palm in mine giving it a firm shake, but as I go to pull away, he yanks me forward, catching me around the waist as I tumble toward him.
“Nate,” I squeak, pulling my top up as it falls a little lower than it should, giving him an eyeful of cleavage. After I’ve adjusted it, I look up, gulping at the intensity in his eyes and letting out a shuddering breath.
His one hand skims up my back, landing at the base of my neck, his fingers pushing through my hair. Centimeters apart, we gaze at each other, the air crackling around us.
I watch my hand lift of its own accord before the pads of my fingers run over the edge of his jaw and flutter over his lips. He leans forward, his eyes still focused on mine before he closes the rest of the distance.
A soft moan vibrates through me and I don’t hesitate as I climb onto his lap. He adjusts his hands, moving them around to my back and placing them on the bare skin. Goose bumps spread everywhere as he trails his fingers up my spine and I moan again at the sensations.
He grins against my lips before pulling away slightly to look into my eyes. “I need to know what you’re thinking; your face gives nothing away.”
My eyes shutter closed; I want nothing more than to slam my walls down like last time, but instead, I let him see what I’m feeling right at this moment when I open them back up.
“I’m thinking I’ve never been kissed like this before.” My gaze flits between his eyes. “I’m thinking when you touch me, everything else disappears and all that’s left is you and me.”
He lifts his hand, running his fingers across my cheek, cupping it as he studies the soft planes before looking back into my eyes. “I’m thinking that’s a damn good thought.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, his lips touch mine again before my arms wrap around his neck, pulling us closer than we already were.
We both get lost in the kiss as we pour everything into it. I don’t want to stop, and I’m sure Nate doesn’t want to either until he pulls away.
“I’m going to have to be a spoil sport and stop this before we get ahead of ourselves, Amelia.”
I shake my head, pushing forward to reach him again. “I don’t want to stop.” A groan rips out of me when he leans away even more, my eyes snapping open at the firmness of his hands on my waist.
“We have to.” His eyes tell me he doesn’t want to, but he adds, “I don’t want us to run before we can walk. I want there to be a second date.” He’s silent a beat. “I want there to be many more dates.”
Hearing him talk about us in the long term has me both nervous and excited. I was wrong to think it wouldn’t change anything. Tonight has changed the way I see him, the way my body reacts to him.
“I…” I clear my throat. “You’re right.” I shift backward, needing to not touch him. Something ignites when we touch: a match forming a flame doused with gasoline, causing it to soar to impossible heights.
Standing up and stumbling back several steps, I smooth my hand down my top, my hand wrapping around my wrist as I try to pull myself together. Nate watches, seemingly fascinated at all of my movements.
“So you definitely want there to be a second date?” his gruff voice asks, hope in its depths.
A slow steady smile lifts my lips. “I wouldn’t have moved if I didn’t.” I step forward before stopping myself. “I like you, too, Nate. Probably more than I should, and I also probably shouldn’t be telling you just how much on our first date.” I pause. “But I’ve never felt whatever it is I feel when I’m around you.” My hand flutters up my arm and rests on my chest: over my heart. “You... feel like home.”
“I know the feeling,” he says, standing up and taking three steps toward me. He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me to him for a minute before he grins and runs his hand down my arm, grasping my hand. “Let’s clear this stuff away and lie down and watch the stars.”
I swallow against the dryness in my throat at the thought of lying next to him before I nod. He packs everything away, straightening out the blanket before sitting down and patting the space next to him. Looking back up at me from where I haven’t moved, his green eyes catch me in their web, not letting me go.
Slowly I step forward, kneeling down before lying on my back. I stare up at the stars on the roof of the building, feeling Nate’s hand take ahold of mine as he lowers himself.
“So beautiful,” I murmur.
“You are.” Turning my head, I come face to face with Nate. “Inside and out,” he whispers, locking me in his gaze.
We stay like that, the stars shining above us, but neither of us watching them. Instead we share silent things with our eyes, getting to know each other without speaking.
I may have thought one date couldn’t possibly have this kind of effect. But I was wrong. So, so wrong.