Page 41 of Fault Lines
When it ended, we settled back at the bar.
“You’re not a bad dancer,” I joked. “I still have all my toes.”
Nate grinned wide. “I think you’re the dangerous one. My toes may never recover.”
I laughed and poked his ribs. “Liar.”
Tony came back over, dropping fresh mugs in front of us. “What are you two, a couple of teenagers?” He turned to Nate, dropping his voice. “It’s getting late, man. Don’t you think you should get the lady home?”
It came out half-joking, but underneath I sensed something sharper. Nate picked up the tension too; his shoulders went stiff, and suddenly the easy air between us was gone.
“Yeah. Guess we should go,” he said. “You ready, Livi?”
I nodded, finishing my last sip of beer and pulling out my wallet.
Nate stopped me. “My treat, remember?”
I tried to insist, but Tony overrode us both. “Beers are on the house. Just get her home, Nate.”
There was a look between them that I couldn’t read. Tony almost seemed angry—not at me, at Nate. But why?
“Thanks, Tony,” I said quietly. “This was fun.”
He nodded, giving me the first real smile of the night. “Come back anytime, sweetheart.”
There was warmth in his voice and I believed he meant it, but something still felt off as we left. Nate was silent, more serious than before, lost in a worry I couldn’t place. The night air was cool as we walked back to my car.
When we reached it, I leaned on the door and met Nate’s eyes. “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”
He looked down, shaking his head. “Just old drama. Tony doesn’t trust me yet.”
“Trust you?”
“It’s nothing worth talking about,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Bright and early.”
He smiled, the old spark returning. “I hope you’ll want to hang out again.”
“I do,” I promised, and then he was gone.
The drive home was quick. I was so busy thinking about Nate and Tony that I almost didn’t notice Cam’s car in the driveway. He was home earlier than usual, but I brushed it off, reminded myself not to read into it.
Inside, I made straight for the bedroom, dropping my purse and kicking off my shoes. Cam was already out of the shower, standing in the bathroom doorway with a towel slung low on his hips.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his grin easy. “Didn’t expect you out tonight. I texted you.”
I’d forgotten about my phone, left it on silent since the movie. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t check it.”
“Where were you?”
“I went to a movie.”
“With Rachel?”
I ducked into the closet, putting away my shoes. “I’m taking a shower,” I said, not waiting for another question, and started unzipping my dress.
Cam leaned against the doorframe, watching me. “You look great. That dress is hot.”
