Page 37 of The Perfect Steal

Nate grinned back. “That’s okay by me.” He motioned for me to pick first and then handed John one of the pints, and John grabbed a spoon from the drawer before he turned back to his show. I just hoped my father would stay in the other room. I didn’t need them embarrassing me in front of Nate, the guy I was definitely crushing on.

We settled into the chairs, sitting next to each other.

“Do you want to work on the assignment?” Nate asked. He pulled out a notebook and pen, his upper body leaning toward me slightly as he looked at the calculus book spread out before me.

“I need to get this assignment done before tomorrow. Do you have something you can work on for just a few minutes? I hope it won’t take me too long to figure this out.”

Nate’s left arm shifted to the back of my chair, and I could smell the cologne or body spray he was wearing, a hint of cinnamon mixed in with pine. It reminded me of Christmas.

“What part of calc are you learning?” he asked, his face just over my shoulder as we looked at the book.

When I turned, I was only a couple of inches away from his lips, causing panic and excitement to war for first position in my emotions. Pushing away those thoughts, I fought to clear my brain and focus on the assignment I needed to get done but wasn’t understanding.

“Have you taken calculus?” I asked, trying to remember if I’d ever heard him mention it.

He shrugged. “I’m good at math.” He read through the problem and took the pencil from my hand. Without saying a word, he wrote the answer along with a few other items I figured were used to go over the problem.

“How did you do that?” I asked, stunned. Where had he learned how to solve the problem so easily? I’d been so sure he was taking all the easy classes, but it seemed he might have been hiding his skill for math from me.

“Math is one of my dad’s favorite things. We used to do a lot of this kind of stuff…before.” He looked sad, and I felt bad for slightly accusing him.

“You are full of surprises, Nate Everton,” I said softly. My gaze moved from his blue eyes down to his lips and back, afraid that if I looked too long, I’d lean in and kiss him. We were in the kitchen, in full view of my brother and with the possibility of my father walking through again.

Something outside the door to the garage sounded, and it opened to reveal my mother. She was carrying several bags of groceries and placed them on the counter.

“John, will you come help me with these?” she called, turning and stopping when she saw me sitting with Nate. “Oh, hey, Brynn. Who’s your friend?”

I glanced over her appearance, her usual blonde hair dyed a burgundy color. Her nails were a bright pink, and even though I couldn’t see her toenails around the counter, I was willing to bet those had been painted as well.

“This is Nate Everton. We’re working on, um…” My brain was struggling to function as I thought about how she hadn’t bothered to tell me where she’d gone or even to say there hadn’t been room for me to get a pedicure.

“We’re working on a few assignments,” Nate said, finishing for me.

“How nice of you to come over. Sorry, I’m just getting back from the salon and getting groceries, so don’t mind me as I put them all away.”

Tears were starting to leak out of the walls I’d tried to throw up at her betrayal.

I stood quickly and said, “I just need to run to the bathroom for a minute.”

With that, I ran out of the room, hoping I would spare myself the embarrassment of everyone seeing me cry.

22

Nate

As Brynn left the room, I wasn’t sure what to do or what had caused her to take off. I’d seen a tear slide down her cheek and wondered how I could make it better.

Mrs. Miller acted like nothing happened and walked out into the garage.

What should I do? I couldn’t go running through their house. I barely knew my way from the front door to where I was sitting. And I wasn’t anything official to Brynn, not as important as a boyfriend, just the group-project partner.

“You look nervous,” John said, standing from the couch and walking over to the bags on the counter. He pulled several items from the bag and then balled it up, stuffing it into some kind of fabric tube in a cabinet.

“Did I miss something? Is Brynn okay?” I whispered it, not sure if Mrs. Miller would come through the door at any minute.

John gave me a sad smile. “She will be. I’m guessing it was something Mom did. Maybe the hair color or nails. Who knows with girls sometimes?”

Nails. Pedicure. I groaned, realizing I’d just witnessed Brynn’s mother stand her up for their girl’s day out while still doing the things they were going to do together.

---