Chapter 18 #2
Nate doesn’t apologize, and I appreciate that more than he could ever imagine. Besides, there’s no need for words when the downturn of his lips says it all.
His thumb sweeps along the curve of my cheek, wiping an incoming tear. The gesture pinches at my heartstrings, and I settle onto my side, looking right at the man I once thought I hated.
Now, that couldn’t be further from the truth. And I’m not sure what takes over me as I lean in to capture his lips.
A jolt of electricity sears through me when Nate’s hand grasps my cheek. There’s strength in his hold, but also care—and the kiss, though desperate, carries a tenderness I never imagined possible.
Out of desperation—an animalistic need to be closer to him—I roll over to straddle his lap.
A gasp slips from me as Nate nibbles on my bottom lip, seizing the moment to slide his tongue in my mouth. Slow. Deliberate. Purposeful. It’s as if he knows what he wants and is determined to take it. And I’m willing to give it to him.
With one final press on my lips, Nate pulls away from me. I lean back in, desperate to make the moment last, only for his head to turn to the side, his forehead creasing as his eyes fill with guilt.
My hands tighten around his biceps, mirroring the tension etched on his face. “What’s wrong?” I ask, worry seeping into my tone. “Did I do—”
“We can’t do this, Vivienne.”
My heart drops at the confession, and I roll off him without another thought.
How could I be so stupid?
This is what I get for listening to a three-year-old and misinterpreting signs of attraction.
“That’s not what—”
“Good night, Nate.” I cut him off before he could finish.
His loud sigh reaches my ears, and while I catch his hands running down his face in frustration, I choose to ignore it.
We’re bound by a deal. We’ll never be anything more, or anything else, so it’s best we keep this platonic. Uncomplicated.
“Good night, Vivienne,” Nate says before rolling onto his side, his back facing me once again.
The softness in his voice is heartbreaking, but I keep my mouth shut, not trusting myself to say anything as more tears roll down my cheek—now, for more reasons than one.
———
I wince as the light pierces my eyelids, and a high-pitched birdsong disturbs the once peaceful atmosphere.
Aside from geese and their scrawny little faces, there’s only one thing I hate more—disrespect.
And that bird outside, belting its ear-splitting, sleep-shattering melody, deserves an award for the greatest asshole to ever exist. Especially when I haven’t slept this well since the start of my PhD—or really, the beginning of school in general.
Honestly, it’s all gone downhill since I graduated from kindergarten.
The bird chirps once more, and I groan, twisting to get as far away from the window as possible, but it comes without any luck. I’m trapped, locked in place with nowhere to go, thanks to the large arm draped across my stomach and holding me close to his chest.
Warm vanilla with a hint of spice and woods—Nate smells delicious—but with what happened last night, I’m not too sure how much more of this I can take.
I take a deep breath in, enjoying the last bit of his heat before weaseling my way out of his hold. It’s only when the balls of my feet hit the cold hardwood that I feel like I can breathe again.
The day has barely started, and somehow, I couldn’t wait to make it back to the confines of my apartment. All I want to do is huddle under a blanket, watch a romantic comedy, and escape the sad reality that’s become my life.
When Monday rolls around, it’ll be back to chemistry and the same shit that hasn’t worked for the past eight months. That should be my focus—not the mixed feelings I have for the man I once hated.
“Don’t think you can sneak away from me, Vivienne.”
I freeze at the sound of his voice, my eyes shutting tight. Clearly, I wasn’t going to be able to escape Nate so easily.
“Don’t do that,” he says firmly.
“Don’t do what?” I respond, not daring to look at him as I get off the bed.
I need to get out of here as fast as possible.
I pull open a drawer, deciding I need something new to wear. Throwing on yesterday’s clothes seems like the ultimate way to radiate walk-of-shame energy, which doesn’t help when I actually kissed the guy.
“Don’t pull away from me when I just got you to open up.”
My heart clenches at the words, but I don’t answer him out of fear of revealing too much.
A rush of satisfaction floods me as I take in the drawer’s contents. I hit the jackpot. Some sweaters, polos, and button-downs. With a pair of well-fitted jeans, they could easily pass as women’s—
It slams shut before I can pull anything out. I flinch at the resulting bang, stumbling right into his firm chest.
“Turn around.”
My breath hitches, and my heart races at his mere proximity.
His tone says it all—it’s a command, not a suggestion, and for reasons beyond me, I follow suit.
My brown eyes clash with his dark green ones, and I break the contact out of fear of what I might do, only for his hand to latch onto my jaw, pulling my gaze to his.
Nate takes a slow, calculated step forward, his gaze flicking between my eyes and my lips.
“Believe me when I say this. It’s not that I didn’t want to keep kissing you last night—I just couldn’t take advantage of you when your emotions were running high.
I’d like to think I’m a good man, Vivienne, but the things I wanted to do to you at that moment were dirty, bad, and wrong.
I made you a promise, and I’m a man of my word.
So before you jump to conclusions, put yourself in the other person’s shoes. ”
I gulp down the emotions with a terse nod, unsure of what to say when my mind is now consumed with the equally bad things I want to do to him—to get him out of my system once and for all.
My hand lands on his chest, and I push him back to put some distance between us.
He’s about to step closer, to close the gap again, but the ringing of his phone brings him to a screeching halt.
Nate draws away, dragging a hand through his tousled hair as he answers the call—and from the glimpse of the Caller ID, I can already tell this isn’t going to go well.