Page 81 of Secrets in Love
Will you be going back with Nate?
Will you be staying with Evie?
What will happen with the farm?
What would happen with your teaching?
What about Iris?
In the days followingthe onethat changed everything—the one we came to refer to as myawakening—the subject of Nate and I parting ways in a matter of weeks hadn’t been broached. In fact, it was actively avoided. Laughing and fucking each other stupid in a bubble of denial was simply too much fun. While we had an unspoken agreement to dodge all talk of the future, no one else seemed to get the memo. The inquisition may have hastened our retreat, but the lure of each other’s bodies had a large, penis-shaped part to play.
Turned out I loved sex. Took to it like a duck to water I did. And with Nate as the master, and me, his more-than-willing apprentice, following along blindly, time passed in a blur of passionate kisses, intimate discoveries, and moments of increasing filth that were taken at every opportunity and in every possible location.
We’d fallen into a blissful routine of indulgent domesticity. Waking early to partake in lazy, sleepy sex, and enjoying naked breakfast in between the sheets before rousing the rest of the house was a goddamn delight. As was showering together, then falling back into bed in the evening.
It wasn’t just in the bedroom—and laundry, and garage, and kitchen, and the bathroom at the Chinese place on 7th—where things were going well. Aided by Christian’s continuing absence, I successfully navigated my return to teaching, doing so well that I picked up an extra two classes a week. While I was dancing my tush off, Nate discovered the hidden and not-so-hidden treasures of New York City, often dropping in to see me in a ridiculous Statue of Liberty hat or Staten Island tee for a picnic lunch we would eat on a rug spread out over the polished wooden floor. It was oddly romantic and sweet, and I took to the open affection and spoiling in a way I feared my icy heart and reunited departments of my brain would never have allowed. I found myself laughing so hard and so often that my abs hurt.
All around, Nate made me…happy. I was smiling more and being less grumpy me-ish than I had ever thought possible. I was writing like an absolute demon too. Who knew a sexy man by your side could be such an excellent muse?
While I was gone, Nate kept himself busy, assuring me not all of his days were spent bingeing Kardashians—which he still denied watching—or wandering the streets waiting to do me—though, I suspected it was on his brain a good portion of the time. Hours were devoted to remotely managing the farm’s upcoming harvests and networking with boutique specialty stores to extend their organic macadamia exports in the States. Doing whatever it is men do during quality bro time with Finn and spending quality time with Iris were further perks, and watching the uncle-niece bond strengthen both warmed and broke my heart. Like ourrelationship, their togetherness was temporary, and every joyful minute collectively spent made the prospect of what lurked around the corner even more ominous.
How long would I have these arms wrapped around me?
“What are you pondering over there, Shirley?” Nate snapped me back to the present, pinching my hip and rolling to lay his beautiful face on my bare stomach.
“Can we lose Shirley, already?” I joked, blinking away the emotion lurking beneath the surface. “I think it’s safe to say, after what you just did to me, I’m not a virgin anymore.”
“True. You’re a regular old hoochie now. But I think the name stays. It suits you, and I get a little dick-buzz from the filthy look you give me.”
My giggles shook his face. “Did your delight in being bossed around start with me, or do you have some long-held and weird mummy issues?”
“Definitely not mummy issues…shit…I don’t think so, anyway.” He scrubbed his hair thoughtfully as he continued, “But I’m sorry to say you weren’t the first woman of questionable morals and a stern hand to take my fancy.”
“Oh, God, you don’t mean Pol—”
“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t even think about saying that name. It was someone from Byron, though. Do you, by chance, remember Mrs. Fraser?”
I bolted upright and sent Nate rolling onto the foot end of the mattress. “Mrs. Fraser, our English teacher? Mrs.When You Get Stuck, Remember…Pen to Paper, Pretty it Up Later?”
He closed his eyes, nodded, and sighed.
“She was so fucking hot, Eves. That accent with its rolling r’s. The French twist thingy she did with her hair. The tight black pencil skirt, the white shirt inappropriately unbuttoned to her navel that she sometimes topped with a vest that pushed her unbelievable tits even higher.” He sucked in a breath and rolled onto his hands and knees, growling as he crawled the length of my body. “And that ruler she wielded and smacked into her palm when we had a test. Fuck. That ruler wasn’t the only long, hard piece of wood in the room.”
“You’re one sick puppy,” I laughed.
Nate barked and whimpered, nuzzling into my neck. “What about you? Did you have any inappropriate teacher crushes?”
I screwed my lips to the side and winced as mental images of my uninspiring facility flashed before my eyes. “Nope. Not one. Though…” A tall, dark, handsome face, bulging biceps, and an amazing ass popped into my brain.
“Alright, who do I have to beat up? I can see your cheeks blushing, and I don’t think it’s because of me.”
“It’s not. It’s Constable Mason.”
“The cop? You got a thing for men in uniform, Lil One?”
“What woman doesn’t? Mason was hot. Jocie lost her phone once, and someone turned it in to the police station. Mason, the cheeky bastard, used it and took a smiling selfie with his massive guns in the frame before he returned it. Jocie found it on her camera roll a few days later, and I can tell you now that the selfie was shared and viewed by every straight woman and queer man in town.”
“Not just queer men. Mum showed Dad and me too. Barry was not impressed.”
