Page 68 of On the Edge

He makes it so hard to resist him. I know that I’ve been holding onto this hurt too long. I know I can and should forgive him. I know he wants me. And now it’s abundantly clear that I want him too.

Nate used to call alcohol my truth serum, because all my walls come down when I drink. And the fact that the last two times I drank—weeks ago in Finland and just last night—I’ve ended up in a compromising position with Nate speaks volumes. I’m sure he realizes it too.

“I didn’t get sick though, right?” I ask, just to make sure.

“Nope. How are you feeling now?” he asks, his voice soft and his eyes laser-focused on my face.

“Not awesome.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but the sudden buzzing of my phone in his hand draws both our attention away. “It’s Sierra,” he says, like I can’t see her picture flashing on the phone. “You’d probably better take this.”

When Nate hands me my phone, I roll over onto my back to answer the call and he heads out the bedroom door. I assume he’s trying to give me some privacy.

“Oh my God, Jackson!” Sierra shrieks when I answer the phone. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone? Petra and I have been calling you for over an hour.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s seven thirty. And our flight this afternoon has already been canceled.”

“What?” I gasp and sit straight up, which is a mistake. My head wasn’t ready for that and it’s pounding in protest. “Canceled why?”

“There’s a huge blizzard moving down from Canada.”

“That wasn’t in the forecast,” I insist, as if Sierra somehow has control over the weather. I can’t get stuck in Montana. We leave for Europe in three days and I need the next two days to pack, finish some stuff up at work, and visit Ms. Juarez. Winters are hard on her with my visits few and far between, and since I’ll be gone for the next month I at least want to get one more visit in before I go. “Okay, so what’s our plan then?”

“Petra and I wanted to head to the airport. There’s a flight that leaves at nine and we were hoping a few people might not show up on time and we could get their seats on standby, but you weren’t answering your phone and we certainly weren’t leaving without you.”

“I’m so sorry. My phone is set on Do Not Disturb until 7:30 on weekends, so it didn’t ring until just a minute ago.” My mind instantly flashes back to Nate and how impossibly hard he was against my stomach as I lunged for my phone before it started ringing in his hand.

Focus, Jackson.

Sierra sighs. “I’m not sure what to do now. Petra’s friend is coming back today and I’m sure he’ll want his place back.”

“Okay, let me go talk to Nate and see if we can figure something out. I mean, if worse comes to worst and we can’t get back to Park City, we can probably stay here. There’s plenty of room.”

“I can’t believe you freaking left the bar and went home with him last night,” Sierra says, her voice so full of disapproval I feel like I’m going to get grounded. “Were you even thinking about Marco?”

“First of all, I didn’t leave with him, it’s a little more complicated than that. I’ll explain when I see you. And second, there’s nothing to worry about. Nothing happened between me and Nate, he just made sure I was safe and took care of me so I didn’t get sick. Marco won’t be upset because there’s nothing to be upset about.”

Sierra sighs after a long, disapproving pause. “Okay. Call me back after you’ve talked to him.”

* * *

Park City, Utah

“Thanks so much for driving us home,” I say to Nate as he sets my ski bag and boot bag in my entryway next to my two carry-on suitcases. Then I glance at my phone, which is buzzing in my hand. “It’s Petra.”

“Okay,” Nate says, all traces of the easy camaraderie gone as he turns and takes two steps toward the door before turning back toward me. His blue eyes are electric, like he’s looking for a fight. “Don’t think we’re not going to talk about last night.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say with a lightness I don’t feel. I’m embarrassed I said anything about retiring, but Nate isn’t one to let something like that go. So my strategy has been to act like I don’t remember anything that happened or was said after he brought me home.

“Oh, we’ll talk about it.” He wears the expression of a man who always gets what he wants as he shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and heads to the door.

There’s a moment there, when his back is to me, where I don’t want him to leave. Being with Nate is comfortable, like pulling on your favorite pair of joggers after a long day at work. It feels like it would be so easy to fall back into our old relationship and I’m realizing that despite my concern about not knowing what he’s got going on with Blackstone, I really don’t hate him.

My apartment is cold, and as I watch him walk through the door I’m already feeling lonely. But I let him go because I need time to think about this and I know it won’t be possible if he’s here. His presence overrides everything else. Always has.

He turns again like he’s going to say something, then glances at my phone buzzing in my hand, gives me a quick nod, and walks down the hall.

---