Page 50 of Secrets in Love
Sauce, cheese, and meat dripped from my fingers as I squished my remaining lunch into a ball, pivoted, and threw. Landing right on his nose, he wiped it with the back of his hand, said nothing, and kept going.
“Oh, now you choose to shut up. I should’ve thrown food in your face the second you got off the plane, and we could have avoided this whole nightmare.” I heard a string of obscenities mumble under his breath and saw his shoulders tense, but he didn’t stop or even slow. I followed him back to the hotel but was determined to be the one in front and have my way before he walked through the doors.
My legs were half the length of his, so I started running to pass him, then turned and began walking backward.
“You flew all the way here to tell me this? To tell me nothing? Well, that’s good because I didn’t want to hear what you had to say anyway—whoooa!”
That was when I slipped and began stumbling in that awkward, half-running, half-falling, can’t-stop-yourself-from-going-over thing, but backward. Nate was on me in a flash, lunging forward, wrapping his arms around my waist, and plucking me off my feet the very second a cab horn blasted. The sudden whoosh of air as it passed behind me blew my skirt up Marilyn Monroe style, exposing my bottom to the worldandhis strong, calloused palms.
For once in my life, I looked down on someone physically, not just because they were a dickhead.
Nate held me in his arms. His hands protectively covered my ass cheeks before he realized what he was doing. But did he move them? No. He gripped tighter.
And I liked it. Damn, how I liked it.
“Put me down, Nate. Half the street can see my bum.” I began to wriggle and protest, but the bastard smiled and threw me in the air. When his hand gripped me again, I was higher against his body, and his palms came to rest on the swell of my thighs, his thumbs brushing my ass. In his eyes, I saw the moment he felt the lace edge of my stockings. I felt his body’s reaction on my shin.
“Why did you wear those tights, Evie? Why?” he groaned, dropping his head against my shoulder.
Because I wanted to tease you. Because I wanted to make you hard as you walked beside me on the street. Because I wanted you to tear them off me.
Embarrassed by my traitorous thoughts and with all my fight drained, I resorted to begging. “Please let me go, Nate. Please.” I whimpered, my eyes falling closed as my body skated over his on its return to Earth. When I blinked them open, he stood before me, pressing his thumb into his eye like he was trying to poke it or his brain out. “It’s been a long day… I’m going home now… I have to get Iris…. It’s late…. I’m tired… I have to get Iris.”
“You said that already.” His poor eye was left alone, and he looked at me like he would devour me. “Don’t go, Eves. Stay.”
“But Iris!”
“Can’t Jocie or Finn get her? Just this once, can’t you ask and accept help and do something for yourself?”
“Buhh…I do things for myself,” I protested. “Look, I did my nails last night.” Nate pulled my signature move, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “I promised Iris, I would pick her up, and I am. That’s my role in the family. I am the caregiver. God knows I have nothing else to offer.”
“Evie, you don’t believe that, do you?”
“It’s okay, Nate. It’s the truth. I’m disgustingly close to twenty-eight, and I’ve done nothing with my life. I submitted a manuscript to one agent and gave up when I didn’t hear anything. I can’t even keep a job for more than a week without being fired. I’m emotionally stunted. For fuck’s sake, I’m a v—” I just caught myself before I let it slip. “Verydifferent person from who I thought I would be at this point in my life.”Fuck, now I’m crying like a moron.Further sweet consolations offered by a pained-looking Nate were rebuked as I retreated. “I have to go. See you tomorrow. I’ll be here at nine, and you can come to the dance studio with me. Don’t be late, and for god’s sake, have pants on.”
Run away, Evie. Run as fast as you can.
Nate
My brilliant five-step plan to evoke Evie’s jealousy turned to dust in that changing room. The minute I saw her wide eyes drinking me in, I was toast. Then there was the whole saving-her-from-sure-death thing. The bounce of her boobs before they were squashed into my chest, the smell of her hair… The way she fit so perfectly in my arms… The lace. I could still feel it flush against her skin. Skin that was softer than I could ever have imagined.I bet those little garters looked bloody spectacular too.
That asshole, Christian, should have been my priority. I should have been formulating a plan for him—one that would involve kicking his damn ass. But instead, I’d been in bed with a photo of Evie in one hand and my throbbing cock in the other.
My day was destined to end that way the minute I saw her in that fucking skirt, but still, the length and intensity of my orgasm came as a surprise. It took me fifteen minutes, two cold showers and three shots of vodka to be anywhere near settled. Even then, the thoughts continued.What is she doing right now? Is she in bed? Thinking of me as she touches and brings herself undone?My cock swelled beneath my towel. No… Not again. Down, boy, down.This had to stop. It was eight pm. I was starving, probably close to dehydration, and exhausted.I cannot blow my load again. I need to get out of this room.
A sobering thought hit me as I threw on some sweats and a tee and hit the road.As much as I wanted to bury myself inside of Evie Austen, I was beginning to wonder if I could survive her.
When I walked into Rubirosa and took a seat by the window, I was happy and relieved to see a familiar, smiling face. Candice, our waitress from earlier, was still hard at work, slicing away. She eyed me suspiciously as she made her way to my side and handed me a menu. Evie had mentioned something about her being an actress, so I thoughtshe would have been off treading the boards on Broadway.
“Nate, you’re back. And alone.”
“I am—not by choice, mind you.”
“Aww.” Candice dropped her lip into an exaggerated pout. She was a cute chick. One I would have been on like a rash a few weeks ago. “You picked a good night. We’re usually a full house at this time, but Wednesdays are our quietest nights. Not sure why.”
“Hump day,” I said dryly.
“What?”
