Page 33 of My Rival for Christmas

I stop the thoughts before they get much further.

“I meant more so Canada as a whole,” Kylie tells him, eyeing him distastefully over her drink.

“I’m from here.”

“Huh. And I thought we were surrounded by people of taste.” Kylie’s phone goes off and she fishes it out of her boot. Robbing Nate of a rebuttal. “Oh, this is Kev. I gotta take it. He booked the wrong flight home from my parents’ next week.”

She starts to walk away, but turns back around to lock eyes with Nate. Raising two fingers, she points them at her, then at him. A silent warning.I’m watching you.

Nate watches her go. “She really hates me, doesn’t she?”

“Were you hoping for an ally on the inside?” I reach for his beer. I’m not drinking that lighter fluid they’re trying to pass off as liquor.

“Would you hate me if I said yes?”

“Really want to give me another reason to hate you?”

He stares me at me for a beat as I take a sip of his—I mean, my beer. “Good point. New question. Seriously. How are you feeling?”

My brows furrow together. “After?”

“Your day?” Like that’s not a totally weird thing for him to be asking me.

“My entire day or just this morning?”

“Well, now that you’ve mentioned it.” He takes my beer from me, stealing a sip. “Let’s talk about this morning.”

“Let’s not.” I snatch the bottle back, downing it some more.

“You ran away before we could even finish our conversation.”

“Did you ever think that was intentional?” I point the bottle at him. “That maybe this is a conversation I don’t want to have withyou.” Or anyone. But especially Nate. “I feel like maybe you should call up Cole and you two could form an ‘I Survived Paige Montgomery Club.’”

A shadow passes over Nate’s face, taking any humor with it. “If you think I’d be part of anything like that, you haven’t been paying attention.”

My mouth falls slightly open. I haven’t been paying attention to what? The last two years? I strongly beg to differ.

Nate steals back his beer. “Or maybe I haven’t been doing a very good job at showing you where I stand. Don’t worry. I plan to make it up to you with a proposition.”

“I don’t make deals with boys with piercings.”

Nate’s lips twitch as he rubs his beard. “Good thing I’m a man.”

“Debatable,” I grumble. “Looks more like a degenerate to me.”

His smile grows, and I make the mistake of looking at his eyes. They’ve always been the richest blue color I’ve ever seen. So deep and saturated, it punctures me deep in my chest.

A simple question residing in them.

“What do you have to lose?”

“My time. My dignity. My mind.” I list each reason on a different finger. “Really, the possibilities are endless.”

“You flatter me—Fuck!” Nate spills his beer across the bar as a small woman, no more than five-foot, barrels into him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I tripped!” Her eyes round to saucers as she sees the mess, reaching across Nate for the napkin dispenser. The movement brings her boobsveryclose to his eye level.

I start to make a face until I notice he’s not paying attention to her. He’s looking at me.

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