Page 22 of Secrets in Love
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh. Now. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I cringed, my nausea rapidly rising again. “I will, Jocie, I promise. But can I take a shower first? I smell like shit.” To demonstrate, I sniffed my shirt and screwed my face in disgust.
I really did reek.
“Fine, but as soon as you’re dressed, you come back here and tell me what incited the chucky chucks.”
We sat on opposite sides of the table. Two cups of coffee—one smelling suspiciously like it may have been Irished up a little—and a plate of local pastries sat between us. It was Aunt Jocelyn’s go-to intimidation technique: ply the victim with warm drinks and sweet, empty carbs.
“So, Finn teased you about Nathaniel, and you’vefinallyseen what was blatantly obvious for the last ten or so years.”
“Blatantly obvious? Could we really call it blatant if I never caught on?”
“Ha!” With a dramatic flair that only a wealthy widower or gay cabaret star could pull off, Jocelyn laughed and swigged herjuice. “I took Iris to North Belongil Beach once, and a perfect stranger asked me when you two were getting together. I assure you, my dear, it was most definitely clear to probably everyone in Byron.”
“Except for—”
Jocelyn bopped me on the nose. “Except for you.”
After downing her drink, she nibbled at the chocolate croissant she seemed to enjoy as much as she did my squirming, then stood. “So, what will you do about it?” she asked, making her way to the coffee pot.
I couldn’t respond immediately and not only because I feared over-sharing. Her coffee making was quite distracting. She filled her cup, unabashedly reached into an overhead cupboard, felt around, and found her bottle of Laphroaig, then added a good nip or three. Bear in mind it was a little before nine am.
“Nothing,” I eventually replied as she took her first sip and sighed. “That’s what I’m doing about it. Even if I wanted something to happen—which I don’t—and he was stupid enough to like me like everyone says he does, Nate lives on the other side of the world. He’s my brother’s bestieandIris’s uncle. Not to mention, he’s far too young for me.”
The coffee, and the whiskey that was back in her hand, hit the floor. “Evie Mary Austen! You take that back right now, or I will wash your mouth out with soap for that blasphemy! Nate is three years younger than you, for heaven’s sake. The last man I took as a lover in France was close to thirteen years my junior.”
“Eww.” I winced. “I know, but it’s kind of gross, isn’t it?”
By the look on her face, you’d have thought I was asking for her best puppy-baking recipes. “No, it’s not gross. It’s delicious, just like Olivier—no wait, Luc it was. No one would think anything of it if I were a man. The real problem here is that you like Nate…a lot. You’re scared and looking for excuses.”
“Pftt.” I waved her off, but she kept right on spilling facts.
“Don’t, ‘Pfftt,’ me. The only legitimate concern I can see is the distance, but even that’s not insurmountable if you really care for each other. You could go home. Nate could come here. Anything is possible if you want it badly enough. Now, stop your sulking and help this old cougar clean up her whiskey.”
When I made my way to her side, picked up and passed her the bottle, she grabbed my hand, pressed it firmly to her cheek, and held it there. “You are such a beauty, Evie, both inside and out, and just like this thing with Nate, you seem to be the only one not to see it. I’m so proud of you for stepping out and taking the job at the dance school. Now you need to take that extra step and do something for yourself in the love department too.”
“Shit! The dance school. I left that bit out.”
“What bit?”
“Well, you know Christian, the director?”
“The gorgeous one with the thighs? I’m disappointed you’d even ask.” She smirked, nudging me with her elbow and sending me sideways to the floor.
“Well, he kind of…likes me, I think. We went out for coffee, and it was…nice. And he smelled amazing and was all flirty and attentive and touched my thigh and kissed my cheek, and then he said he wanted to get to know me better.” I took a breath, then kept right on rambling. “I’m supposed to go with him again on Tuesday after class. I was excited, but now all I can think of is Nate, and…oh my God! Is that slutty? Am I being a slut to go out with one guy but think of another?”
Chunks rose in my throat, and I fought desperately to control them and my breathing.
“Excuse my French, but for fuck’s sake, Evie! How did you not tell me any of this, and how the hell does it make you slutty? What is a slut anyway? I hate that term.”
“I know it’s not nice.” I puffed out a breath, then skewed my lips. “But can we agree that Nate’s a bit of a slut?”
“Hmm, yes, that is true. But still. You’re not. In fact, if things with your… experiences…” She made an O with her left index finger and thumb then repeatedly thrust her right finger inside it. Mature. “…remain the unaltered from the last time we spoke of them, you know full well you’re not. As far as I’m concerned, you are dating neither of these men, and even if you were, you have made no oaths of allegiance. You can go out for coffee, drinks, dancing, or have full, fabulous sex in Central Park if you want to. It’s no one’s business but yours. The feelings you have for Nate need to be explored, but there is no harm in spending some time exploring with Christian. You’re young and sexy. He’s young and sexy. I say go for it.”
I eyed my aunt with pride and a touch of suspicion. “How did you get so cool, old lady?”
