Page 55 of Trapped
“No one has to lie. And you certainly didn’t need to play games with me.” I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my head back to glare at him.
Emotions swirled behind his eyes; the predominant one was sadness.
“Why’d you tell me you were an accountant?”
“I didn’t.” I didn’t need to call him out; my expression did it for me. “Ashley, I never told you I was an accountant. You assumed, and I didn’t correct you.”
I stepped closer and poked his solid chest. “Not correcting me is the same as lying.”
“Fine. I lied.” His voice was low but forceful. “But what was I supposed to say? I know I told you my name is Scott, but it’s only an alias while I work with the FBI to take down weapon-smuggling terrorists?” He slammed his mouth shut. He glanced around again, this time seeming more nervous than watchful.
FBI? Weapon smuggling terrorists?
A million and one thoughts rapid-fired through my mind, the intensity causing me to sway on my feet.
When I didn’t answer, because I couldn’t get my mind to stop spinning, Nathan reached out to steady me.
“I planned on coming clean, as much as I safely could, at dinner, but,” his eyes lost focus for a second. He swallowed hard before finishing, “Things happened, and I couldn’t make it.”
When I’d hit on the sexy, mysterious guy at the bar, all I wanted was a one-night stand. But the instant our gazes connected, I’d felt a connection. When we talked, there was no awkwardness; it felt like old friends reconnecting. When the bar music interfered with our conversation, we went back to my room. Surprisingly, we didn’t sleep together, though we made out like horny teenagers before he got a call and had to leave.
I was more than a little disappointed my one-night stand ended without the orgasms I’d anticipated. I won’t admit to wearing out the batteries in my adult toys that night thinking about Scott.
“What happened, Nathan?” I asked, my voice soft and calm as my eyes drifted to his scar.
He didn’t miss the movement. “Cliff note version, my cover was blown, and this happened.” He pointed at his face before running his hand through his hair.
Was I the reason his cover was blown?
Wanting to see him again, I’d gone back to the bar hoping he’d be there, but not expecting it. I remember stopping and staring at his back when I saw him on the same bar stool. It felt like fate. When he admitted he was glad I’d come back, I thought I was staring in a fucking romance novel. When he asked me out to dinner, I half expected our story to end with a happily ever after.
Only my Prince Charming ghosted me.
Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.
“Was it because of me?” My words were barely audible as guilt weighed me down.
He reached out and took my hand. Nathan didn’t speak until I made eye contact again. “No. It wasn’t because of you.”
My ability to speak had taken a vacation, so I nodded instead. Then I stared at my hands, still in his. He squeezed them, but I still couldn’t meet his eyes, so I lowered my head and stared at the ground between our feet.
“Ashley, look at me,” Nathan ordered.
Obeying wasn’t an option. I shifted my focus from the ground to his black boots, to his muscular legs and what I assumed were six-pack abs, and then finally to his eyes.
“It wasn’t your fault.” His voice was thick with emotion.
I freed a hand from his and reached for his face. He flinched but didn’t back away.
“This is why you stood me up?”
The scar felt rough under my fingertips. Nathan closed his eyes before saying, “Yes.”
With a sigh, he leaned into my touch.
“I’m so sorry.” My apology was inadequate. I’d been a total bitch, never giving him a chance to explain. And he took it, never once calling me out for it.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
