11. caleb
11
caleb
"So, what's the game plan?" Nathaniel asks, sipping on his orange juice.
To say this is beyond weird would be an understatement. I’m almost certain he’s hated me for the past four years for “stealing” his girl, and yet here we are, sitting at a patio restaurant over breakfast, plotting ways to ambush said girl… together ?
I lower my sunglasses to the bridge of my nose and sneer at him.
"If you think I'm about to tell you how to find my girl, you'd be wildly mistaken."
" Your girl?" Nathaniel laughs. "That's a very funny statement."
"Am I wrong?" I ask, casually sipping my espresso. "If we're looking at this logistically, it was only a week ago she was still calling me her boyfriend. So, if she’s anyone’s girl—I'm pretty sure she’s mine." I wink.
His jaw clenches. He shifts his gaze to the walkway, avoiding mine. The streets are packed. Vendors, dancers, drag queens, and rainbow flags paint the street in celebration. Everywhere you look, there’s something new to see. It’s vibrant and alive.
Honestly, I’m sort of kicking myself in the ass for never coming to this event till now. It’s pretty cool.
"Whatever. You're such a dick," he mutters.
I snicker. He’s so easy to rile up. The way his cheeks flush when he wants to hit me, it’s kind of endearing.
"Maybe if we put our heads together, we’ll get there faster." I shrug.
“Is that supposed to be some sort of innuendo?” He swallows deeply.
“Innuendo? Nathaniel, what ever could you mean–” I try my hardest to bite back my laugh since that’s exactly why I said it.
“Nevermind, forget it.” He shakes his head, popping a grape into his mouth from his nearly empty plate.
“All I know is that if we work as a team, we’ll find her way easier.”
He shoots me a look. "That’s what I’ve been saying.” He groans, sitting back in his chair. “You’re impossible."
"Okay, okay. I’ll lay off." I raise my hands in mock surrender. I’m done teasing…for now. "Let’s check her Insta story again. She probably updated it since this morning."
He pulls out his phone and scrolls.
"Still nothing. It’s early."
I sigh. This plan is kind of half-assed. But weirdly… I’m glad I’m not alone in it. Makes for an interesting adventure.
"For the record," he says quietly, "Sarah and I have been seeing each other too. For the past four years."
I nearly choke. "No shit! You’re fucking with me."
He smirks. "Dead serious. I saw her… two weekends ago. We went to a poetry bar in the city."
" Finleys? That was you?"
"Yup."
I blink. What a little shit. I know I should be upset that she was with another guy but honestly…it doesn’t hurt like it’s supposed to. "I gotta hand it to you. I never knew." Then I pause, frown. "Wait—what about Thanksgiving? She told me she was with a friend."
"We made turkey and watched ‘ New Girl’ in our pajamas." He grins.
Okay, that’s… kind of cute. And honestly? I’m impressed. Maybe I underestimated him.
I lean in, curiosity piqued. "Do you guys... you know..."
Nathaniel bites his lip and looks down at the table.
"That's none of your business," he mutters.
"HA!" I laugh, slapping the table. "I got you. She totally friendzoned you."
"Listen, it’s not like we’ve never…you know what, I’m not talking about this with you—"
"Hey, no judgment. I get it. Sarah has some particular tastes in bed. If you're not super open, it can be… a lot."
Nathaniel’s eyes narrow. "What do you mean by that? You know what? No. I’m not encouraging you."
I laugh into my espresso. He folds his arms, scowling, but I can see his knee bouncing under the table. He’s flustered, thinking over if he wants to know more or not. It’s adorable.
Then— "Okay, wait." He leans in, voice low. "What do you mean, particular tastes?"
I study his face. How much info is too much info? I don’t want to scare the guy.
"If you and Sarah were really intimate, you’d know." I search his expression. Nothing. "You guys really didn’t do it much, huh?"
Red creeps up his neck. I shift in my seat, suddenly hyperaware of the pressure building in my jeans. The blush on his face, his nervous energy, the way he’s looking at me all curious and waiting—it's doing things to me I wasn’t prepared for. It sent me straight back to the confusing feelings I’d buried in high school…the ones I’d convinced myself were all in my head.
"We… only a few times in college. Not often." He sips his juice. I track the movement of his throat as he swallows. Bite the inside of my cheek.
"So let me get this straight—you’ve only slept with her a handful of times over four years , and now you’ve flown across the world to declare your love?"
He rolls his eyes but nods.
"Have you been with anyone else in all that time?"
His mouth opens. Then closes.
Damn.
"Holy fuck !" I exclaim, leaning back. People glance over. Nathaniel ducks, hissing,
"Can you not? "
"Nathaniel, how— why —have you cut yourself off from life like this?" I push my sunglasses to the top of my head, dragging my hair back. I catch him watching the movement, eyes lingering.
I think he’s a fan of my hair. I’m not sure why but I feel like I should note that.
"I don’t know. I just... really like her."
"Nathaniel—"
"Stop calling me that—"
"—have you ever wanted to be with someone else? Another woman? Anyone?"
"No—" His answer is immediate. Too fast. "I mean… I haven’t thought about it. I’ve always had Sarah. She’s enough."
I look at him. Really look at him. He’s tense. Quiet. Holding back. Like he doesn’t even realize what he’s denying himself. How does he know when he’s never even tried?
And the thing is, Nathaniel is hot . Like, seriously hot. Tall, broad shoulders, that square jaw, those green eyes. He’s a walking heartthrob and doesn’t even know it. People stare when he enters a room, for godsake. I’ve always seen it. He’s too modest to notice. It’s kind of his charm. But also? A waste.
"I’ve got an idea," I say suddenly.
He groans. "I don’t like the sound of that."
"How about we explore the city today? We’re waiting for her updates anyway. Let’s stop by a few events, soak it in, have a good fucking day." I shrug.
"What makes you think I want to have fun with you ?" He’s smiling now, despite himself.
I wave the waitress over and signal for the bill. One check.
"Because I’m a fun fucking time." I wink. "Trust me."