Page 27 of The Art of Scandal

“No one.” Nathan shoved his phone in his pocket. “Are you done fighting?”

“He’s hopeless.” Bobbi pointed at Nathan’s hidden phone. “Is it a woman?”

“A woman?” Dillon stood beside Bobbi. “Are you seeing someone?”

Nathan leaned back on the couch. “You guys are kind of close right now. Could you back up, please?”

Dillon rolled his eyes. “Booty call. He’s embarrassed.”

“No.” Nathan paused until they both retreated. “I’d like to have a private conversation without being interrogated.”

“Is Dillon right?” Bobbi cornered him like a sniffing bloodhound. “Or is it serious?”

“There is noit,” Nathan snapped. “Could you guys talk to each other for a minute while I text her back?”

“Her!” Dillon pointed to Bobbi. “Told you. Our boy is back!”

Bobbi shuddered. “Uh, no. Fuck boy Nathan is your boy. Not mine.”

Nathan waited until they’d settled into another debate before picking up his phone.

Nathan:Anytime you feel like running away just say the word.

Those marching dots taunted him as she typed her response. He suddenly, intensely hated text messages.

Rachel:I feel that way every day.

He reread it, lifted his thumbs to type, and then lowered them again. He wanted to say,So do I. I’m not sure why I never could.But you didn’t put big things like that in a text.

Nathan stood and loudly announced, “I’m making a beer run. You guys need anything?”

Dillon looked confused. “Uh… more chips?”

Nathan took the steps down into the laundromat two at a time, barely reaching the stoop before dialing Rachel’s number. She answered on the first ring.

“I know that last message was pathetic, but you didn’t have to call.”

Her voice washed over him, soft with a hint of huskiness and smoke. He might never text her again.

“It wasn’t pathetic.” He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “I like hearing your voice.”

She was quiet long enough to give him palpitations. “I actually hate texting,” she admitted. “I’m too slow.”

“That’s because you care about punctuation.”

“Commas increase readability, and I will die on that hill.” She laughed. It was like audible honey. Nathan rocked forward, leaning into the sound.

“You’ve got a good laugh.”

“Really?” She laughed again, but this time it was muffled, like she was covering her mouth with her hand.

He groaned. “Did I make you self-conscious? Don’t be. Yours is sexy.”

She didn’t respond. Fuck. The filter between his brain and his mouth had been smoked down to nothing. “Rachel? Are you still there? Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

She cleared her throat. “It’s okay if you did.”

Nathan leaned back on the stairs and stared at the empty parking lot. His body felt heavy and light at the same time, like any minute, all the darkness weighing him down would fall away.

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