Chapter Thirteen
I shut my car door and pressed the key fob twice, waiting for the tell-tale beep. Cam always teased me for doubling up, said once was enough, but I liked the confirmation—the small, mechanical announcement that everything was as I’d left it.
Nate was waiting nearby, leaning against his own car as if he had all the time in the world. “Hey,” he said, walking toward me, his eyes moving over my dress. “You look great.”
I flushed; I’d spent longer than I’d admit picking out this dress.
I didn’t want to overdo it and send the wrong message, but I’d been so hungry for a night out that I’d ended up in a black dress with a loose skirt and layers of ruffles.
It was barely more than casual, or so I convinced myself, but I hadn’t worn anything this cute in weeks.
I could always call Rachel if I needed a night out, but lately she and Jackson were glued to each other, and I didn’t want to intrude.
She was happy, I reminded myself, so I should be too.
Nate led the way toward the movie theater’s ticket window, glancing up at the glowing screen. “I thought we could see that new Ryan Gosling movie. If that’s okay.”
I looked at him, surprised. “You like Ryan Gosling?”
He gave a crooked little smirk, as if he expected the question. “Guys can’t like Gosling? He’s a good actor. I like what he does.”
I giggled at that, thinking how odd it sounded; Cam always claimed Gosling only got jobs because women liked his looks. He wasn’t wrong about the looks, but I’d always thought Gosling was good at his job too.
“You have good taste,” Nate said, handing money to the cashier. I pulled my wallet, but he just shook his head. “Nope. I owe you. My treat.”
Inside, the bright lobby smelled like popcorn and butter.
I watched Nate load us up with drinks, popcorn, and more snacks than I thought a person could reasonably handle for two hours.
I wondered, idly, how he burned through all those calories.
Did he jog, like Cam? Maybe the gym. Or maybe he just had good genes.
Either way, his arms and chest looked strong in that soft t-shirt, not overbuilt but definitely not just average.
We found our seats in the cool, dark theater.
I wrapped a small blanket over my legs, because I knew the air conditioner would be relentless.
Nate divided the snacks, acting like a kid at a carnival, tossing candy into his mouth while the previews rolled.
I found myself laughing more at Nate’s ridiculous running commentary than at the movie itself.
He’d lean close, whispering some off-hand joke, and it was all I could do not to giggle loud enough to get shushed.
By the end, my spirits had lifted. The strangest part was that, for the whole movie, I hadn’t thought about Cam. Not once. I hadn’t checked my phone. I hadn’t wondered what he was doing. I was just myself, in a dark room, having fun with a friend.
We walked out under the theater lights, and I was in no hurry to go home. I didn’t want the night to end—it was too early, and I didn’t want to slip back into silence and empty rooms, not yet.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” I asked, surprising myself.
I expected him to say no, that he would have plans or work to do, but he just lit up.
“Sure,” he said. “Anywhere in particular?”
“Not really,” I said. “Maybe a drink?”
He grinned. “There’s a place around here. Joe’s. Ever been?”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s nothing fancy,” he said, already moving toward the sidewalk. “We can walk.”
He took my hand as we stepped out under the streetlights. His palm was broad, warm, and I looked down at our joined fingers. Did friends hold hands? I wasn’t sure, but it felt nice. So did Nate, apparently.
“Relax, Livi,” Nate said, squeezing my hand. “I’m not trying to seduce you.”
I startled with a little laugh, both mortified and relieved. Nate grinned as we walked on.
“You’re adorable, you know?” he said.
“I can be a dork sometimes,” I admitted, trying to play it off.
“But the cutest dork,” he replied, his dimple making an appearance. For a moment, I just let myself bask in it—the easy rhythm of our steps, the lightness of the night.
Joe’s Bar this time he was gentle, drawing me close, and we swayed in a clumsy circle.
It was nothing like the movies, but somehow better.
No one else paid us any mind except Tony, who watched now and again from behind the bar.
Maybe it was the wedding ring that caught his attention.
Maybe to an outsider, this looked like something it wasn’t.
But even with Nate’s confession, this felt safe. Harmless. He knew where things stood.
So why did guilt keep tugging at me, even as we laughed our way through the final bars of the song?
When it ended, we settled back at the bar.
“You’re not a bad dancer,” I joked. “I still have all my toes.”
Nate grinned wide. “I think you’re the dangerous one. My toes may never recover.”
I laughed and poked his ribs. “Liar.”
Tony came back over, dropping fresh mugs in front of us. “What are you two, a couple of teenagers?” He turned to Nate, dropping his voice. “It’s getting late, man. Don’t you think you should get the lady home?”
It came out half-joking, but underneath I sensed something sharper. Nate picked up the tension too; his shoulders went stiff, and suddenly the easy air between us was gone.
“Yeah. Guess we should go,” he said. “You ready, Livi?”
I nodded, finishing my last sip of beer and pulling out my wallet.
Nate stopped me. “My treat, remember?”
I tried to insist, but Tony overrode us both. “Beers are on the house. Just get her home, Nate.”
There was a look between them that I couldn’t read. Tony almost seemed angry—not at me, at Nate. But why?
“Thanks, Tony,” I said quietly. “This was fun.”
He nodded, giving me the first real smile of the night. “Come back anytime, sweetheart.”
There was warmth in his voice and I believed he meant it, but something still felt off as we left. Nate was silent, more serious than before, lost in a worry I couldn’t place. The night air was cool as we walked back to my car.
When we reached it, I leaned on the door and met Nate’s eyes. “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”
He looked down, shaking his head. “Just old drama. Tony doesn’t trust me yet.”
“Trust you?”
“It’s nothing worth talking about,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Bright and early.”
He smiled, the old spark returning. “I hope you’ll want to hang out again.”
“I do,” I promised, and then he was gone.
The drive home was quick. I was so busy thinking about Nate and Tony that I almost didn’t notice Cam’s car in the driveway. He was home earlier than usual, but I brushed it off, reminded myself not to read into it.
Inside, I made straight for the bedroom, dropping my purse and kicking off my shoes. Cam was already out of the shower, standing in the bathroom doorway with a towel slung low on his hips.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his grin easy. “Didn’t expect you out tonight. I texted you.”
I’d forgotten about my phone, left it on silent since the movie. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t check it.”
“Where were you?”
“I went to a movie.”
“With Rachel?”
I ducked into the closet, putting away my shoes. “I’m taking a shower,” I said, not waiting for another question, and started unzipping my dress.
Cam leaned against the doorframe, watching me. “You look great. That dress is hot.”
I didn’t feel it. I pictured the brunette I’d seen him with—a woman who looked like she belonged in a magazine.
I shrugged. “Thanks.”
“You okay? Did something happen? Did you and Rachel fight?”
“No, it’s just been a long day. And I went for a drink after. I don’t usually drink beer, but tonight I did.” I stood at the shower, twisting the faucet until the water steamed. “I guess I’m learning I like more things than I thought.”
Like working in bookstores or making lattes or the way Nate’s eyes looked in the sunlight. I shut the thought down—it felt dangerous to even think it.
Cam just watched, his expression unreadable. I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror: pale skin, slim hips, the old insecurity sliding in. Was Cam comparing me to her? Did I stack up at all? I locked the door behind me, a barrier I’d never put up before.
That night, curled in bed, I let my mind drift. For the first time in all the Thursdays since Cam’s new rules, I didn’t picture faceless bodies and betrayal. I imagined Nate instead, laughing, alive, wrapped up in music and light.
And, just for a night, that was enough.