Page 48 of The Perfect Steal

“Should we go to the store another time?” Nate asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching.

I nodded, knowing his father was still in watching the game. “That might be best. I’m not sure I’m ready for all those calculations. Our monthly food budget is only seven hundred, and we have two adults and two children. Hopefully, what we’ve come up with can stretch for four weeks.”

Nate glanced at the screen, as if it would have the answer. “Yeah, I don’t know much about buying groceries, but it’s probably a lot cheaper than eating out all the time.”

I gathered all my things, packing my backpack with everything but the water bottle. With a light push on the chair to get it back under the small nook table, I turned toward the living room.

“It was nice to meet you,” I said, waving to Nate’s father before heading to the front door.

“You too. Good luck with your project,” Mr. Everton said from his spot on the couch.

Having Nate walk me to the door felt more intimate than it probably should have, but we’d shared a lot in the past three weeks. And seeing Nate with his dad after the baseball game when he was so let down, and now, when he had a hope of his dad actually hanging out with him, it just seemed to bring us closer together.

“See you at school Monday,” I said, pressing down on the door latch.

“Thanks for coming over. Hopefully we got a chunk of the assignment done before your life gets crazier with basketball.”

As I turned toward him, the dim light filtering in from the moon outside shone on his scar, and for a moment, I forgot myself, reaching up to touch it.

“Does it still hurt?” I asked softly, tracing the pink lines with my finger.

“Not as much as it did,” he said, his blue eyes staring into mine.

I glanced down at his lips, and for a second, I thought he was moving forward.

Closing my eyes, I waited for our lips to touch.

Instead, a loud clap sounded behind Nate, and I opened my eyes, seeing Nate’s face only a couple inches from mine. His dad was clapping and cheering about something.

“Thanks for your help,” I said, turning and heading out the door before anything else happened.

My mind spun as I drove back home, the look of his eyes and the feel of his scar under my fingers playing on repeat. We’d been so close. How had that happened? I’d been so sure all my defenses for relationships were indestructible, but Nate had shattered those.

But would a relationship work? Or was I destined for heartbreak like my parents?

The biggest question of all was if Nate even wanted to be in a relationship with me. Liking and commitment were two different things.

31

Nate

We had to squeeze in a trip to the grocery store the week before Thanksgiving break, and the two of us were blown away by the amount of money everything cost.

Brynn texted me the next day, saying the calculations of what our meal plan had cost was over a thousand dollars. I didn’t have time to go help her fix things, as I had to go to a dinner for my dad.

And now, my family and I were up at a ski lodge in Colorado for the Thanksgiving holiday, the same one we’d gone to for years. I was usually excited about going skiing, but there was so much unresolved between Brynn and me.

I’d almost kissed her at my house. I wished I’d gone through with it before my dad had to get excited about a fumble for the other team. She’d touched my scar and hadn’t flinched away from it.And she’d shown me that even the strong could be vulnerable.

“What a great day to ski,” my dad said as we headed back to the lodge. I was tired and sore, but the exertion from skiing all day had been just what I needed.

Checking my phone once I was back inside, I grinned when I saw Brynn had texted me.

Is it bad if you want to move out of your house instead of being thankful for the people in it?

I chuckled, having caught on to some of her light sarcasm lately. She’d always seemed like a quiet girl before, but now that I’d gotten to know her, she was a lot more blunt than I’d expected.

I took a selfie and sent it to her.You can always come join me on the slopes.

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