Page 26 of Before We Were

CHAPTER7

CONNOR JAMES

NATE

The bass poundsthrough the floorboards, but can't drown out the roaring in my ears as Connor’s fingers trace paths across Nora’s body. Each touch is a match strike against my skin. My jaw clenches as bile rises in my throat watching him stake his claim. The jealousy burns close, a wildfire spreading through my chest with nowhere to fucking go.

I should be past this.

Should be immune to the way she still pulls at something deep in my chest. But watching Connor touch her with such casual possession makes my blood surge hot and deadly, obliterating what little high I had left.

Keep telling yourself that, Nate.

I grab another drink and a bottle of water, shoving my way outside where the night air clings to my skin like a second shadow. Finding a quiet spot away from the party's relentless heartbeat, I collapse onto a weathered bench. The weight of every bad choice I've made settles over me like a burial shroud. I'm the reason we're strangers now, why this gulf between us only grows wider with each passing day. Regret sits like stone in my chest as I wonder how to fix something that might be beyond repair.

The click of my lighter briefly illuminates the darkness. I inhale deep, hold the smoke until my lungs burn, then exhale through my nose. The nicotine barely touches the edge of my tension. Having her close is torture, but her absence is its own special kind of hell. This summer already feels like a lifetime too long. I'll spend it chain-smoking and drinking, trying to numb the parts of me that still yearn for her.

The air shifts and I know she's here before I see her. Nora emerges onto the patio, her breathing measured as she leans against a pillar. Like gravity, I find myself moving toward her despite every instinct screaming to maintain distance. I rest my elbows on the railing beside her.

"You should reconsider who you spend your time with."

She turns, arms crossed. "Does that include you?"

My lips curl into a smirk.

There she is.

"Just looking out for you."

"And why are you all of a sudden acknowledging my existence now?" The challenge in her voice makes my pulse skip.

I can't tell her I never stopped being aware of her. That she's been a constant hum under my skin since we were kids. The pull ebbed during freshman year but never truly faded. She's always there, a persistent rhythm in my chest that I can't shake.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, trying to decode the mystery in her eyes.

"I'm just trying to figure out which Nate I'm getting now. The considerate one or the arrogant one.”

"I just thought you'd have standards when it comes to company," I bite out, fury and frustration tangling in my throat.

"That's rich coming from you. I thought you had taste." She nods toward Farrah downing another shot. "Guess we were both wrong."

Silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken words. She takes another long drink.

"You need to slow down," I say, concern bleeding through my anger.

She leans against the railing, and I force myself to meet her gaze. Even in the dim light, she's devastating—all forest-green eyes and quiet defiance. It's like playing with matches in a room full of gasoline.

"Are you keeping tabs on me now?"

I ignore her question, holding out the water bottle. "Drink it."

She accepts with an eye roll, taking slow sips. "You don't need to babysit me, Nate. I'm not five anymore."

"I'm not trying to babysit you, I just—" The words tangle in my throat. "My mom would kill me if she knew I let you get wasted and hang out with that dickwad."

"Well, Nate," she steps closer, confidence radiating from her like heat, "I'm not your problem or a chore you need to handle, so you don't need to worry about me."

I study her, thrown off balance by her certainty. Her eyes catch me, pulling me in like they always have. "I don't see you as either of those things."

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