Page 33 of A Lot Like Forever
“Teach you,” he finished for her.
She moved even closer to him, her body skimming his, breasts to his chest and her head tipped back. “I don’t want to be told that I don’t know what I’m doing again,” she whispered. “I want to . . .”
“Stop.”They were getting in a bad habit of interrupting each other’s sentences, but he didn’t want to hear any more of what she had to say. He couldn’t teach her, couldn’t take her to his bed, couldn’t . . .or could he?And what kind of jerk had been telling her that she didn’t know what she was doing in the bedroom?
“Why not?” she asked. “Is it just because of Sam?”
“You make it sound like that’s a stupid reason. It’s not,” he growled back.
“What if he never had to know? Isn’t that why you just brought me back here?”
“Do you want me to lie to him?”
Her smile made Nate want to do wicked things to her mouth just to wipe the grin away, to stop her from being so suddenly sure of herself when usually she was a whole lot more demure. Maybe it was because he’d never seen her drinking before, but she was turning into one hell of a confident woman.
“Is it lying if we just pretend like I’m only your housekeeper? That what he walked in on was a onetime-only mistake?”
He cleared his throat, staring down at her, into the deepest-brown eyes he’d ever looked into. “Was it a mistake?”
She laughed. “You tell me.”
The only mistake was letting himself near her in the first place. He should have let her in, then jumped on his jet and headed back to New York. Or maybe the mistake was not dragging her to his bed right now and getting her the hell out of his system.
“The mistake was letting you through my front door when I found you here the other day,” he muttered.
“You’re actually regretting it?” she asked, putting her palm to his chest and pushing back a little. “I don’t believe you.”
He grunted, not liking the distance she’d just put between them even though he was telling her the exact opposite. “I’m just annoyed at my sudden lack of self-control.”
“Because you’re always used to being the one calling the shots?” she asked.
“Exactly.”
They stood, staring at each other. Faith was waiting for him to make a move, he could tell, but as much as he wanted her, he still had a shred of control left when it came to her and his friendship with Sam. She’d been ballsy at the bar, but here in Nate’s home she looked a whole lot more uncertain all of a sudden.
“I think we need to call it a night,” he said firmly, finally letting go of her hand.
She nodded, cheeks flushed like she was seriously embarrassed, touched with the softest hint of pink.
“I’m not saying no, Faith, and it’s sure as hell not because I don’t want you.” He couldn’t help but smile at her. “Because I do want you, Faith, with every damn fiber in my body.”
Her mouth flexed into a big smile again. “Good night, Nate.”
Nate stood and watched her go, refused to go after her, resisted the urge to confess to being an idiot and kiss the hell out of her again. Because he needed time to think. Because Faith was forbidden. Because,damn it,it just wasn’t right.
* * *
Faith splashed cold water on her face and took a deep, shaky breath. She had no idea what the hell had happened tonight, but she was sure as hell grateful for having her own bathroom adjoining the guest room she was staying in. At least she wouldn’t have to see Nate again until morning, and even then she’d be hiding under the covers for as long as she could. He’d never specifically mentioned her having to make him breakfast as part of her live-in-housekeeper role, and she had no intention of offering this weekend. Not when she could do a perfectly good job of keeping her head buried in the sand.
What had possessed her to kiss Nate like that?It would have been fine if something more had happened between them, but he’d rebuffed her as soon as he’d had time to think it through, the moment they’d arrived home. The only thought keeping her sane was how he’d responded to her when they’d touched, but that was nothing if she never got to feel his hands on her again.Or his lips. She’d gone from being scared of a man’s touch to downright craving it.
Faith turned the faucet off and stared at herself in the mirror. She’d screwed up, read the signs wrong. And she’d never forgive herself if Sam and Nate didn’t mend their relationship—they’d been friends for so long, and as much as she wanted Nate, she also didn’t want to be the cause of a serious rift between them.
She ran her fingers through her hair, the curls almost completely fallen out now, and turned from the mirror. What she needed was a good night’s sleep. Everything would seem better in the morning; it always did. That was one of the few things she remembered her mom saying, something that had always stayed with her even after she’d left. When she had gone when Faith was just a teenager, it had been her choice to stay. But at that age, the idea of leaving her friends behind, not to mention her brother, had been almost unbearable, even though in hindsight she could see it had been the wrong decision. Instead of trying to understand, she’d turned her mom into the villain without seeing that her dad was to blame for so many of the reasons their marriage had broken down, and she doubted she’d ever be able to repair the damage even if they ever reconnected.
She undressed, put her dress on a hanger, and pulled on the tank top and boy shorts she always wore to bed, sighing as her head hit the luxurious feather-filled pillow. Everything about Nate’s house was incredible—the duvet was incredibly warm but light as a single feather, with a soft cashmere blanket at the end for extra warmth if she needed it and extra goose-down pillows in the closet. The bathroom was full of oversize supersoft towels, with tiles floor to ceiling, and the bedroom carpet was plush enough to wiggle her toes deep into. As much as she loved it, she was terrified of getting used to such luxuries—another thing she had in common with her mom.
Faith pulled out her iPad, looked up one of her favorite New York galleries, a place in Brooklyn that was showing some of the best street art and graffiti artists. Maybe she should have just gone there, soaked up the atmosphere, and seen all the art she’d researched firsthand. She sighed, deciding to put her iPad away instead of scrolling through. One day she’d get there, but right now she needed to stay focused on finishing her degree and saving her money.
