Page 58 of Selfie

“You smell nice.” Nathan steals the very words from my mouth because I was about to say the same thing about him. He’s wearing that cologne again. The one that turns me into a heat-seeking missile. “What is it?”

“Shower fizzies. Strawberries and cream. It kind of smells like?—”

“Strawberry shortcake,” Nathan finishes for me. “That’s what it is. Yours was the best I’ve ever tasted, by the way.”

I don’t know what to say. Suddenly I’m so nervous. But good nervous, like I’m at the tip of a very high diving board getting ready to jump. Below is an intimidating Olympic-sized pool. If I don’t execute my next move with precision and tact, my body will break when I crash into the water.

“The cream puffs?”

He nods. “Wish I had one right now.”

My head knocks back against the couch cushion. “You knew I was lying the whole time.”

He cackles. “Big-time.”

“Why didn’t you call me out on it?”

He looks ahead, staring at the plain wall. “Why are you trying so hard to impress me?”

“You’re a smart guy, Nate. Why do you think?”

He wets his lips, buying time before he has to respond. The waiting is agony. It’s only a few seconds, but seconds when time stops is still an eternity.

“There’s a good chance you’re holding on to something that doesn’t exist.”

There he goes again. Cryptic. Dismissive. An edge of condescension. I know what he’s thinking: silly girl and her little boy crush. “Message understood,” I reply curtly. “Let’s work at the dining table. More space.”

I rise, but quick as a flash, he grabs my hand and yanks me back down. He swivels his hand so our embrace goes from cupped palms to interwoven fingers. I know he can feel my trembling but I can’t help it. All I can do is breathe, ensuring oxygen gets to my brain so I know this is real and not some fantasy I concocted.

With his free hand, Nathan grabs his phone and shows me his broken screen. “I didn’t fix it because it reminds me of that night.”

Here we go.Finally, an admission.Prince or toad?

“What are you talking about?”

He swallows hard, like the words are difficult to taste. “Eight drinks. One sip each… I remember, Spencer. I liked everything about that night except the part where you got away.”

Prince, prince, prince.

“Why didn’t you say anything? You had me questioning my sanity.”

I regret opening my mouth when he releases my hand. He raises both knees, resting his elbows on the top of his thighs while he buries his head in the lap-cave he’s created. “You met a different version of me that night. I didn’t want you to get the impression that he often makes an appearance.”

“You were faking that night?”

“No.” His answer is sure and finite. “Not that. It is a part of me, just a very small, often absent part of me.”

Boldly, I scoot a little closer. There’s still an inch between us, but I feel the heat from his body. “And who is here tonight? Nate or Nathan?”

His smirk is small. He’s trying to appreciate the inside joke, but heavier things must be on his mind. “Who would you prefer?”

“I want the guy who’s nice to me. The one who makes me laugh and smile. The one who apologizes when he offends me.”

He cinches his eyes closed and grimaces like he’s in pain. “Okay, give me your phone.”

I don’t think, I just react. Obediently, I unlock my phone before handing it over. Nathan plucks it from my hand and turns the screen so I can’t see what he’s doing.

“There.” Finished with his mission, he hands my phone back.

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