Page 148 of Small Town Firsts

My inappropriate daydreams get cut short when Nate waves another Jack and Coke in front of me. “You all good, dude? You looked like you were somewhere else.”

I choke back a laugh, because really, I was—but I’m definitelynottelling him I was envisioning myself inside his sister. So, I lie. “Just thinking about work.” An idea pops into my head. It’s probably the alcohol, but fuck it, I’m gonna run with it. “Hey, speaking of work…you wanna let me get Nat’s number?”

Once again, he cuts his eyes my way, really studying me. “For work, huh?”

I nod, not trusting my voice to sound convincing.

He hesitates, and I’m worried he’s going to shoot me down. But then he slips out his phone and fiddles around on the screen. A few seconds later, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I check it, and sure enough, he sent over her contact card.

“Thanks, brother.”

He’s about to reply when a brunette with killer curves approaches us. “Hello there, boys,” she says, eyeing us both up and down like we’re juicy, USDA Prime steaks.

Nate tips his chin to her, much the way he did to me. “Evenin’.”

I lift my brows in a friendly gesture.

She twirls a lock of hair around her neon-pink-tipped finger. “My friend and I couldn’t help but notice you boys were over here all alone.”

“And did you ladies want to give us a bit of company?” Nate asks, his voice dropping an octave or so.

Brunette Barbie signals to her friend—who happens to look like an actual Barbie—to come over and join us. Objectively, they’re both beautiful, but damn if my dick doesn’t even take a lick of notice. Hell, after the shit Mia put me through, I can’t say I’m surprised. Especially since she was so much like these twogirls—sexy, but calculating. Don’t ask me how I know they are—I just know. Thanks to Mia, it’s like a sixth sense now.

I stand from my stool and toss down a few more crisp bills. “Nate, I’ll leave you to it; I’ve got an early morning.”

He smirks, not minding one bit that I’m leaving him in the company of two beautiful women. “Talk soon.”

By the time I Uber home, my buzz has mostly worn off. Not completely, but mostly. It’s definitely still present enough that I’m fully blaming it for what I’m about to do…

ME

So, about that coffee?

She doesn’t answer immediately,and I toss my phone down onto the ottoman, resting my head on the back of the chair. My eyes fall closed, and almost instantaneously visions of Natalie filter through my head. And not just how fucking tempting she looked today in her black skinny jeans and black button-down. Hell, how tempting she’s always been.

But shit like when she was eleven and broke her arm in a bike accident. Nate and I were riding down to the gully, and she was dead-set and determined to follow us. I remember suggesting to Nate that we should slow down and let her catch up, but like the know-it-all fourteen-year-old he was, he simply pedaled faster. So did Natalie. Her little chicken legs furiously pushed the pedals. She was so focused on catching up to us, that she took the curve in the road too sharply. Down she went, in a sickening crunch of aluminum and skin scraping across asphalt. In that moment, I felt fear like never before.

Fear that she was seriously hurt.

Fear that her mom and dad were going to kill us.

I remember pulling my handle brake so hard that I skidded to a stop. I threw my bike down, and hauled ass to her—thank you, JV track—where I gave her a quick once-over before dropping down beside her and scooping her into my arms while Nate raced back home to his parents.

Her arm was bent at an unnatural angle, and I know she must have been in so much pain—hell, it hurt me to even look at it. But even still, she buried her face in my chest and cried quietly until her parents arrived.

I guess you could say I’ve always been protective of Natalie. Even when I was with Mia, I found myself checking up on her through social media. She never posted too much, but each and every picture she did post made me feel like a man being stranded in the desert and finding an oasis. And seeing her today, and knowing she’s a single mother to what I’m sure is a sweet little girl, has me feeling some kind of way.

The sound of my phone pinging draws me out of my thoughts, and I rush to grab it, hoping like hell it’s her.

NATALIE

Uh…who is this?

ME

It’s cute that you’re acting like you don’t know.

Like I said,we’re blaming the alcohol. I try and convince myself of that as I wait for her reply. When it doesn’t come as quickly as her first, I wonder if I pushed her too far. But then…the typing bubbles appear.

---