Page 81 of Selfie

“Where’s Spike?” I try to breathe quietly because I swear I just heard something in the house.

“In his carrier, napping. He had two lunches today, so he’s sleeping it off.”

“He might be up.” And I’m probably being paranoid. New places stress me out, no matter how nice they are. “All right, anyway… The thing about Nathan is that while he’s nice and generous, he’s not ours to keep. I don’t want you to get attachedand then get your feelings hurt. It was hard enough for you to let Jesse go.”

“Nathan’s way better than Jesse. I can see that now.”

“Charlie.” I smooth her hair behind her ear. “Nathan and Jesse are apples and oranges. I loved Jesse, but Nathan is just my boss.”

“But he spent the night. I know you think I don’t know what that means when adults sleep over. He really likes you.”

I’m terrified to ask her to clarify an “adult sleepover,” so for now, I sidestep it. “Do you know what catch and release is?”

“No.” She falls backward on the bed. I follow suit and wrap my hand around hers. It’s not teensy anymore. Reality sets in when I realize our hands are almost the same size. She’s growing up so fast, and I’m so stressed out about giving her a good childhood, that I’m missing it.

“Catch and release is when people fish just to see what they can catch. As soon as they get what they’re after, they throw the fish back. They never mean to keep them. It’s just a game. The only thing that interests them is the chase. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“You’re saying Nathan is playing catch and release?”

“Exactly.” Oh, thank fuck she gets it. My feelings are still raw, and I don’t want to dive into how foolish I feel, swooning over my boss, forcing some fantasy with a guy who is so far out of my reach, he might as well be living on the moon.

“That’s nice of him,” Charlie says so casually.

“What?” I pop up into a sit, and blink at her. “How is that nice?”

“Well, if we’re talking about fishing, what’s the alternative? That he catches you, kills you, and puts you in a fry pan. Releasing you is a nice thing to do, isn’t it?”

Did my little sister unintentionally impart some form of profound wisdom on me? “Fish and people are different, Charlie.”

For a moment, she’s silent. She stares at the ceiling fan as the white blades circle slowly. I lie back down, enjoying the cozy moment. It’s almost perfect, except with the size of this bed, there’s a noticeable empty space on the other side of me, like our family is almost whole, but not quite.

“I’ll talk to him for you if you want? Ask him if he likes you,” Charlie offers in a hushed tone. “I’m really good at it. Last week I asked Taylor B if he liked Madison, and he said yes. They’re dating now.”

If it were only that simple.Enjoy it while it lasts, sister. These are the last few years of your life where boys will make sense.At this age, they wear their hearts on their sleeves, and are somewhat willing to tango with something called the truth.

“I’m okay. Thank you though.”

“Because you’re scared he’ll say no?” she asks.

“It’s because I’m scared he’ll say yes.” And I know for a fact Nathan Hatcher doesn’t like me the way I like him. I’m a toy at his mercy. An easily manipulated plaything. Something to catch, then release.

She holds up her hand. “On Mom, so you can’t lie… Do you like him?”

I raise my palm, matching her gesture. It’s our most serious command whenever we say, “On Mom.” I’m powerless to lie. “Very much. But don’t worry about it. It’ll fade. If you want to go shopping with Nathan, that’s fine, but grab some cash out of my purse and that is yourbudget.”

“Knock, knock,” Nathan says as he physically knocks on the door trim. He’s wearing nice light jeans and a plain navy T-shirt, looking more casual than I’ve ever seen him before.

Frazzled, I fly up into a sitting position again, as if I’m caught. No way he heard all that, right?Shit.“When did you get here?”

“Just walked in.” He shrugs, unbothered. I’m alarmed, but he’s not.Phew.He didn’t hear a damn thing. “You settling in okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great. Except I think there’s a pest control problem.” I smirk.

“I agree, but you call that rat a pet, so who am I to argue?”

I try so hard to hold in my laugh, but it breaks free of my lips like river rapids against a paper-thin barricade. Nathan’s smile crinkles the corners of his pretty eyes. His peculiar blue-green eyes are dressed in a naturally thick layer of lashes any woman would envy.

“I was talking about bossholes with no leash who think they can enter houses uninvited.”

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