Page 49 of Fault Lines
“No gore, please. Anything else is fine.”
“Alright, you asked for it,” he said, shooting me a teasing look. I braced myself for something ridiculous.
But when The Princess Bride popped up on the screen, I let out a squeal I absolutely couldn’t suppress.
“Wait, did you pick this for me?” I asked, barely containing my excitement.
He smiled. “I had a feeling you’d be into it.”
“Don’t force yourself if you hate it,” I said. “I really don’t want to ruin your night.”
He shook his head. “I like this one. Just don’t go telling everyone, okay?”
I laughed. “Cross my heart. I can’t believe how long it’s been since I watched this. I can’t wait.”
We curled up together, and somewhere around the halfway point, my eyelids started drifting shut. I wanted to keep watching, but being tucked up against Nate on a soft couch with the movie running and the room comfortable made it impossible to fight sleep.
When I finally drifted back awake, my head was resting on Nate’s chest, his arm wrapped around me, gently moving in small circles at my side.
I should have pulled away. This was crossing a line, or at least leaning right up to it—but it felt so good. It felt easy. And thinking of moving made every muscle protest, so I just lay there for a while, enjoying being held. Nate’s body was solid and warm, and for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel unwanted or alone.
I wasn’t sure how much of the movie I’d missed; something else had started and I didn’t recognize it. But I lingered, letting myself have the moment, because the truth was, it felt good to be with Nate like this. It felt right, and safe, and necessary, after another night spent out of mind and out of sight by someone who was supposed to love me best.
When the credits on whatever he was watching rolled, Nate nudged me gently, arm still around my shoulders. “Livi. You’d better wake up. It’s after midnight.”
Groaning, I reluctantly peeled myself off him.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Didn’t I warn you this might happen?”
“You’re always welcome to fall asleep on me, Livi. Seriously.”
There was something in his eyes I’d never noticed before. Or maybe I had and just ignored it; but now, it couldn’t be missed. The longing was right there, unguarded. And scarier than that, I recognized my own reflection in it.
When he leaned in, I didn’t stop him. I didn’t even think about turning away, or saying no. His lips caught mine, gentle but sure, the kiss quickly unfolding into heat and pressure, then into hunger. His tongue, sweet with some trace of chutney, pushed into my mouth, and I felt a thrill I’d forgotten was even possible.
When I grazed his lip with my teeth, he grunted, and suddenly my body was right up against his, reckless and eager. We kissed like we’d done it a thousand times, but the novelty hummed in every touch. He wasn’t Cam; this was new, and it didn’t swallow me whole or try to possess me—but it still sparkled with something that left me breathless. It was the kind of kiss that offered, not demanded.
There was no doubt that Nate wanted me. There was certainty in the way he touched me, the way he pulled me in, the way everything about us together just fit. If he had to choose between me and anyone else, it would always be me. The ache in that realization nearly undid me. For so long, all I’d wanted was to be wanted, every night, every day, without restriction. Without a six-day limit.
I’d sensed Nate’s feelings before, but convinced myself I’d made it up. Now, in this kiss, there was no denying any of it. Not his desire, and not my own dangerous response.
I broke away, both of us breathing hard. When he tried to follow, I pressed my hand to his chest and forced a space between us.
“We can’t,” I whispered. The words made my heart ache.
He let his forehead drop to mine, his own voice barely a breath. “I know. Please don’t hate me.”
“Never,” I promised. “You’ve saved me this year, Nate. I’d never give you up.”
“You never have to. As long as you want me around, I’ll be here—for whatever you need. Friend, partner, anything.”
“You shouldn’t wait for me. You should be with someone who isn’t tangled up with another man.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I want. What I want is for you to realize you deserve more. Not what that selfish prick is putting you through.”
“He loves me.” The words sounded weak even to me. “He’s just lost right now.”
“If he loved you, he wouldn’t leave you hurting like this. This isn’t love. If you were mine, nobody else would ever matter. Not even a little.”
