Page 42 of Secrets in Love
“Yes.”
“Can you please give me more than that?”
“No.”
“Please, tell me what’s going on. I won’t judge, I promise. You have nothing to be worried about, Evie. Tell me.”
She sighed heavily, then looked up through her lashes. Fuck, she was beautiful. “I need time with you…alone.” I couldn’t help the twitch in my brows. “Not that kind of alone. I mean, I…uhh…umm…”
“Have some compassion for a man’s jet-lagged constitution and spit it out, Little One. It feels like I was on that plane for weeks.”
Clenching her fists, she looked to the heavens, muttered something under her breath, then floored me.
“I want us to get to know each other without Finn and his giant head butting in, okay? I need it, Nate. I want to understand how you and I fit when it’s just us. I’ve booked a table at a bar on Friday night, and I thought we could surprise Finn then. That leaves us three days to just hang out, and talk, and…”
“And? Evie Austen. Am I your dirty little secret?” I asked, shimmying my hips suggestively and playing with the heart-shaped buttons on her cardigan. At first, her body seemed to collapse as she looked up at me from beneath her lashes. Her cheeks pinkened, and she went all floppy, kind of like she was melting. A tiny little sigh escaped her lips, the sight and sound of which damn near killed me and seemed to snap her out of her daze. She pulled her eyes from mine, went as rigid as my cock was beginning to feel, and quickly stepped away.
“Shop. And shop. You’ll need it by the looks of your luggage. You haven’t brought enough for a week, let alone a few months. I suppose you thought I’d do your laundry for you, like your mum. You got another thing coming, buddy.”
Her faux anger was endearing, and I could see she felt conflicted, and for some reason, I felt the need to make her even more so. Being the asshole I am, I mimicked her pouty, crossed arms pose and stood there awkwardly, staring in awkward silence. And yes, I was making it uncomfortable, but the whole thing was kind of fucking amazing and full of the type of raw, ball-busting sexual tension they write about in novels.
“Well, good night, then,” Evie suddenly yelled. “I’ll pop in and see you after I take Iris to school in the morning. Oh, and I’ve already paid for the room, so you don’t have to worry about anything. Just have a good rest. Okay. Bye, Nate.”
“Wait!” My arm shot out, grabbed her by the elbow, and pulled her against me. “Aren’t you going to come in? Check out the room? See where that hard-earned cash has gone?”
“No…not tonight. I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Her voice trailed off. My eyes followed hers as they moved away from my face to study my thumb as it swept back and forth over her skin. She was flushed with goosebumps after each stroke. It felt so fucking good to touch her. So soft and warm and right.
“Please, Evie. I just want to talk. It’s been such a long time. I’ll be on my best behavior, I swear.” A playful barb sat on my lips. It was clear as day. She began to speak, “I…I want to…” but faltered, then looked at me, at my lips, with wide, innocent eyes that instantaneously destroyed me for any other woman.
“Tomorrow.” She smiled, shaking her head as though clearing a fog. “I promise. We can take a tour of the city, or I could drive you out to Montauk to surf if you like.”
I tightened my grip. “We could spend the day in a dumpster, and I would be fine with it. As long as I’m with you, Gidge, I don’t care what we do.”
Evie’s eyes closed slowly as she sighed deeply, nervously giggled, and bounced on her toes like she was bursting to go to the toilet. The sighing and eye closing were clear signs of swooning I had seen many times on many girls—the chuckling and the jiggling not so much.
“Oh, okay, weirdo. That’s weird…but…I suppose it’s also nice.” Years of ballet training then came on display as she unconsciously took a perfect ballerina pose, placed her hand on my shoulder, and kissed my cheek. Her lips lingered. The feel of her breath on my skin was hypnotic. She slipped away a fraction but remained achingly close, her eyes hungrily fixed on my lips. “Goodnight, Nathaniel.”
I smiled and traced my hand along her modestly exposed collarbone. Christ, she was sexy. “Goodnight, Lil One.”
She took a deep breath and kissed my cheek again, gasping slightly as my thumb caressed her neck. Then, she ran.
Evie
“I’m pretty sure I just gassed the doorman.” A trail of burnt rubber and a cloud of sour, toxic smoke heralded my three am-ish escape from Nate. “Holy shit! What the hell was that?”
Now, I have read almost every rom-com, contemporary, dark, wizard-warlock, fairy porn, and romance on Kindle. I thought I’d experienced attraction. But that was the first time I had ever felt that stomach-twisting, knee-faltering, heart-stopping, panty-soaking want that they all write about. And because I was me, instead of confessing my all-consuming feelings to Nate, kissing him as he deserved to be kissed and following my vagina’s clear urgings to go up to his room, I acted like a stone-cold, mute bitch, jumping side to side like a toddler bursting to pee. I was trying to control the unfamiliar, hot-as-fuck ache building between my legs, but I was sure he just saw a frigid loser with bladder control issues.
Frigid. I shuddered even thinking about that word. I hated that word.
The last-minute, cherry-popping shutdown of my high-school sweetheart, Luke, had resulted in a flurry of Frigid Evie slurs by him, his friends, and half the town. At first, it was hurtful and so bloody embarrassing that I pretended to be sick for days. But in time, I began to see that I wasn’t ready, and Luke wasn’t worthy. Had he handled the aftermath in a more gentlemanlike manner—thanks for the words, Lizzy Bennet—I may have tried again, and he may have become my first.
But two things ensured that would never happen. One, his pure assholery in telling his friends all but ensured that he and his creepy little hands would never be touching me again.
And two, something was missing with him, and I knew it even then. My body didn’t react to Luke’s. It didn’t want him. Had I felt half of what I had just felt fully clothed on a New York sidewalk with Nate—melting into his touch, quivering from his words—as I did lying half naked on a bed with Luke, things would’ve ended differently. But I didn’t. I didn’t feel what I wanted to feel for the person who would be taking what I could never get back.
Hindsight told me, though, my do-it-myself cock blocking was a blessing in disguise. Maybe, just maybe, I had discovered someone worthy.
Caught in the wilds between horniness and regret while slapping myself on the leg and wondering if it was too skanky to change my mind and turn around, I traveled the remaining distance home and almost hit the roof when my phone rang.
