Page 61 of Grinch Girl

Nate huffed. “Silence. Great. Shall I guess then?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and shivered. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I muttered.

“I shouldn’t have slept with you,” he said.

Well, ow. I breathed in the hurt like the crisp winter air, and it burned my lungs.

“Because,” he went on. “For some unknown reason, you now think that’s all I wanted. Which is bullshit and ridiculous, Jane.”

“I’m not mad because we slept together!” I’d meant to remain silent until we were safely being recorded, but the words popped out of their own accord. I’d loved our night together. It was the hottest, sweetest one I’d ever had. My mind couldn’t stop replaying it. I’d pictured Nate’s dark eyes staring into mine as I’d straddled him on the chair. The way he’d held me after, clutching me to him with both arms while breathing in my hair. The way his lips had curved into a sleepy smile when I’d kissed him goodbye.

“Why are you mad then?”

Because you’re temporary. We’re temporary. Because you’ve woken me up, shaken me up. Because you’ve made the hated holiday season actually fun. Because you challenge me and you think I’m smart and capable and sexy. Because I think you’re smart and capable and sexy.

Worst of all, you’ve somehow made me doubt my plan. Even if I get to keep Greta’s shop and become a freakin’ pillar of the community and find someone kind to date…maybe that won’t be enough.

When you leave, I’ll be more miserable than ever.

“I’m not mad.” The flat tone in my voice illuminated the lie in my words, but there was no way I was going to explain my insanity. I knew I was being unfair.

But so what? It wasn’t like life was fair.

“Let’s go get a drink!” I chirped. If the damn cameras weren’t going to interrupt our intense little chitchat, we’d just go to them. I slip-slid in my heels, ignoring Nate’s attempt to steady me by the elbow.

Once we got to the bar, a sheepish-looking cameraman raised his lens right in my face. I winked into it. “Two shots of whiskey, please,” I purred to the bartender, all bad girl again.

The bartender handed over two shots, and I held one out to Nate. “I don’t want that,” he said, stone-faced. “I’m driving because this town doesn’t have more than three Uber drivers, and everyone else must have summoned them before I could.”

“Your loss.” I threw a mischievous pout to the camera and did both shots myself. Ooof, that was a real nice burn. I blinked hard and licked my lips.

Then I patted Nate on the face, ignoring how good the little growth of stubble felt against my fingers. “Don’t worry, you’ll be back in the city with its thousands of Ubers very soon.”

“Is that what this is about?” Nate demanded. “You’re thinking about me going home? You’re projecting the end of us before we’ve even begun?”

My mouth dropped open. Was he not aware that the cameraman had leaned in even closer? Apparently, he’d smelled the drama.

“Nate,” I hissed, making a gesture toward the camera.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Believe me, I’d prefer not to discuss this with an internet audience, but as you’re not speaking to me otherwise, this is where it has to be done.”

“No, it doesn’t!” I screeched, already regretting the most recent shots of whiskey. I needed to be sharp for this conversation, and my edges were already dull and blurry. “We don’t need to discuss anything at all.”

My toes and kneecaps were numb. I stumbled toward the fire. Both Nate and the cameraman followed, damn them.

“I think we do.” Nate took a deep breath, and despite myself, I stilled to listen. He had the air of someone about to confess something, and God help me, I wanted to hear everything. “I’ve been working with Bella again since I’ve been back. Suddenly,she’s all about business—I think she’s avoiding Michael in much the same way you’ve been avoiding me.”

Huh? I shook my bourbon-clouded head and squinted to see Bella and Michael on the other side of the fire. They were standing silently with stiff shoulders, looking just as uncomfortable and miserable as I felt right now. For an instant, I wished I’d picked up the phone when Bella had called this week. What had happened between them since our fight in the shop the other day?

“But you know what? Despite our many looming deadlines, I can’t even concentrate on work right now,” Nate was saying. “I keep staring at my stupid phone, hoping you’ll text me. I move around my shitty apartment on tiptoes, hoping if I’m quiet enough I’ll be able to hear you in yours.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “I’m pining for you.”

Pining for me? I almost let out a swoony sigh. No one had ever pined for me before.

He must have seen me softening, because he took a step closer and stared deep into my eyes. “I’ve missed you, Jane.”

“You’ve only known me for a couple of weeks,” I whispered.

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