Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
I turned to find Nathan standing in the kitchen doorway. I held up the bottle of water.
"Just needed something refreshing," I said.
"Hm." He eyed me curiously before coming over and placing a hand on mine. The warmth of his fingers contrasted with the cool water bottle. That warmth spread from my own fingers, down my arm, to settle in my belly. His every touch threatened to set me aflame.
"Let me guess," he said quietly. "You're feeling left out?"
It was an echo of the words I asked him when he told me about Gael and Jessie.
I hesitated before nodding. He didn't need to know the real reason I'd left.
"I've never done anything like what you guys have," I said. "I don't want your friends to think I'm boring or dull."
"Listen," he began earnestly. "You can't compare yourself to the guys. We've done such crazy shit, you wouldn't even believe it. But that's not normal. Most people are like you. You don't have to feel bad about it. Besides, we're changing that, aren't we? You've done an extreme sport, you're at a rock star party, and now you've officially played a drinking game. Life is starting to get interesting."
"I've barely played a drinking game," I said. "I left after one round."
"I've got an idea," Nathan said as he grabbed a full bottle of white rum. "Follow me."
He took my hand, sending more warmth coursing through me. He guided me through the party, up the stairs and down a hallway. He led us into an empty bedroom and shut the door behind us.
"I've already slept with a rock star," I joked. "I've crossed that off my list."
"As much as I'd love a repeat performance, that's not why we're here." Nathan sat on the bed and patted a spot next to him. "We're going to play our own drinking game so you can finally say you've done it properly. Just the two of us. No one else around to feel self conscious."
I gingerly lowered myself to the bed, keeping some distance between us.
"There's no point playing Never Have I Ever , considering I haven't done anything worthwhile," I said.
"We're playing something else," he said. " Two Truths and a Lie ."
My tense shoulders relaxed.
"I've heard of that," I said. "Sounds like the name, right? You say two things that are true and one thing that's a lie and the other person has to guess which one is which."
"Exactly," Nathan said. "Loser is the first one to give up, whether from passing out unconscious, running off to go puke in the bathroom, or otherwise."
"Sounds pleasant."
"I'll go first to show you how it's done." He paused, thinking for a moment, before nodding to himself. "I've kept a diary since I was twelve. I slept with a stuffed giraffe every night as a kid. My favorite sex position is doggie style."
I let out a choked snort.
"Of course one of yours is going to be about sex," I said.
Nathan raised an eyebrow.
"So which one is the lie?" he asked.
"You're probably trying to trick me with these." I thought it through. "You probably think you're too cool to sleep with stuffed animals, but most kids do it, so I'd say that's true."
He didn't say anything, just stared at me with a quirk of his lips.
"We didn't have sex doggie style," I mused, "but it's a popular position, so I can see you liking it."
He bit his lip, amused.
"I really can't see you as the diary type, though," I said.
He faked an affronted look. "And what sort of type is that?"
"The kind to reflect on things. Like I said before, you're a spontaneous kind of guy. So I think that's the lie."
That little smirk of his returned.
"Wrong," he declared. "The lie was that I slept with a stuffed elephant, not a giraffe."
"What! That's cheating!"
"Not at all," he said. "I can keep the lie as close to the truth as I like. Take a drink."
He handed me the bottle of rum with the cap unscrewed. I took a healthy swig and immediately started coughing.
"Ugh," I choked out. "Couldn't you have chosen a drink that goes down easier?"
"You should be glad I didn't use Seth's drink," he said.
I wiped my wet lips with my shirtsleeve.
"Wait," I said. "So that means you actually kept a diary?"
"Sure did."
"I'm astounded and impressed."
"It wasn't a diary of secrets and thoughts," he said. "Mostly it was lists of guitars I wanted to buy, songs I wanted to practice, venues I wanted to perform at, things like that."
"I don't know if that counts," I said. "That's more of a career planning journal."
"Career planning?" He blanched. "That sounds so formal and business-y."
"Nothing wrong with planning your career," I said. "It shows you have foresight and the discipline to work hard to meet your goals."
"I guess," he said, shifting on the bed awkwardly.
"So that means doggie style is your favorite position?" I asked. "Let me guess, you love having a girl's ass in your face?" I was only being half sarcastic.
"That's definitely a perk," he drawled. "But the best part?"
Nathan moved closer. He placed a hand at the back of my neck. I stared at him, not blinking. He slowly ran a hand from my neck, down my spine, to the small of my back. He kept his hand resting there, pressing firmly. The heat of his palm burned into me, even through my clothes. My stomach clenched.
"I love that sexy curve when a girl's arching her back," he murmured, his lips close to my ear.
I inhaled a quick breath.
Nathan removed his hand, returning to his spot on the bed.
"Your turn," he said, an amused smile playing on his lips.
My brain was still muddled from his touch, a flush rising through my belly to my cheeks. I had to think fast.
"My favorite food is brussels sprouts," I said, starting off easy. "I've never been to a baseball game. And—" I paused for the briefest of moments to hide a smile, "—I can bring myself to orgasm in under a minute."
A wicked smirk spread across his face. "I'm going to call truth on that last one, just because I'm hoping for a demonstration."
"It's a lie," I said.
Nathan's face fell.
I leaned forward, bringing my face to his.
"I can do it in under thirty seconds," I whispered.
A familiar heat flashed in his eyes. "Now you've got to prove it to me."
"The game is called Two Truths and a Lie , not Truth or Dare ," I countered. "If you wanted to see me naked, you should have chosen a different game."
"Remind me to suggest strip poker next time." He blew out a calming breath and tossed back a swig of rum before continuing. "I once had sex with a set of twins. I've never eaten a hot dog. I'm afraid of needles."
"There's no way you haven't eaten a hot dog," I said. "And I have no doubt you've had sex with twins before. But I can't imagine you being afraid of needles. That one's a lie."
"It's true. Now take your drink," he reminded me, and I did. It went down smoother the second time, but still burned my throat.
"Which one's the lie?" I asked, still grimacing.
"I didn't have sex with a set of twins." He waited a beat. "They were triplets."
"Of course they were," I said. "So the hot dog thing?"
"When I was young, one of the first porn clips I ever saw featured a hot dog?—"
"Stop!" I clapped a hand over his mouth. "I don't need to know."
"It traumatized me," he said, his voice muffled under my palm. I removed it.
"So the needle thing is true? You don't seem like a scaredy-cat," I teased. I'd long since lost my fear of needles. I'd been stuck and pricked so many times it was a routine thing by now.
"Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell anyone else?" he said quietly.
"Of course," I said.
"I hate needles," he said. "I especially hate watching other people get them. It's just… too many bad memories." Nathan inhaled slowly and let it out through his nose, before continuing.
"My mom had cancer."
Oh no. I reached out to take his hand, my fingers squeezing against his.
"I'm so sorry," I said.
"That's why I had to take care of things when I was a kid. And now she's back in the hospital. She's been having some similar symptoms again. They're doing a bunch of tests, keeping her under their watch to manage the symptoms if they get worse, just in case. The doctors say it's probably nothing serious. But…" He flicked his gaze to mine, his deep blue eyes full of heartache. "I'm still scared."
I clasped his hand to my chest.
"It's okay to be scared," I said.
"She's already had to go through chemo twice," he said. "If she has to go through it a third time… fuck." He rubbed his face with a hand, exhaling deeply. "I don't know what'll happen if she has to go through it again. I don't even want to think about it."
"So that's why you've been at the hospital so much?"
"Yeah."
I suddenly had a thought.
"Does Gael know?"
Nathan went quiet for a moment.
"No. I haven't told him. I haven't told anyone."
"He's your best friend. I'm sure he'd want to know. To give you support."
"I don't want them to worry. They need to be concentrating on the album right now."
My heart ached for Nathan.
"You know you can talk to me about anything," I told him. "If you're ever scared, or worried, or just want to yell at the world, I'm here for you."
"I know you are," he said, squeezing my hand back. "And I'm here for you. If you ever want to vent or cry or throw plates against walls."
"Is that another one of your extreme sports?" I asked. "Extreme plate throwing?"
He chuckled and my heart lifted.
"Anyway," he said. "Your turn."
Nathan still looked vaguely upset. I needed to turn the conversation back around.
"My favorite position is also doggie style," I began.
"I'm praying to god that's true," Nathan jumped in.
"I don't own a single pair of heels. And…" I waited a moment, considering whether or not to say it.
Nathan had confessed something real to me.
I continued. "I wish my parents would divorce instead of dragging out their failed marriage."
Nathan's eyes went wide. "I hope that's the lie."
"It's true," I said. "That's one of the reasons why I moved out into the basement. I couldn't take their passive aggressive bullshit anymore."
"I'm sorry." Nathan scooted closer, pressing himself to my side. "That has to be a shitty situation to live with."
"It didn't used to be that way. I remember happier times. Things only started to change when?—"
Nathan cocked his head when I stopped. "When what?"
I decided to go with a half-truth. Appropriate for the game we were playing. Nathan had already had to deal with a lot of shit in his life already. I didn't need to add to that.
"I was sick as a kid. A lot. It caused tension between my parents. They tried to hide it from me, but I could tell something was wrong. Things just got worse as I got older. I thought they might finally divorce when I finished high school. That whole, keep it together for the kids thing. But they're still together and every day is like waiting for another bomb to drop. Always wondering, what's going to set them off this time? They're still worried about how a divorce might affect me but they don't get that seeing them like this is even worse. I wish I could just move out on my own and leave the whole situation behind."
"Why don't you?" Nathan asked.
I choked back a derisive laugh. "It was hard enough getting them to agree for me to live in the basement."
"I know you said your parents were overprotective, but it sounds like they're being unreasonable," he said quietly.
I made a soft noise, not wanting to disagree. Despite how much I hated it, I knew my parents were probably right. Living on my own might not have been the best idea. For someone like me, it was safer to be at home.
"So which one's the lie?" Nathan asked. "Do you actually own a million pairs of heels?"
"Nope. Not a single pair."
He made a disappointed noise. "So the lie is that doggie style isn't your favorite position? Damn."
I had to grin. "I've never done it doggie style so I wouldn't know."
Nathan flopped back onto the bed with a groan. "You're killing me over here, gorgeous. Now all I can think about is showing you how it's done."
"Game's still on," I said. "You want to forfeit?"
"You wish." He sat up. "I've written a whole album of solo songs. I was one of those sports star jocks in high school." Nathan pressed his lips together and met my eyes straight on. "I wish Gael had never met Jessie."
My heart ached for Nathan. "I'm sorry. It must be hard."
"It is. But that one's the lie." He quirked a smile. "I actually was a jock. Track and field star. I was great at long distance running. Team sports were never my thing, but I liked running to keep in shape and build up my stamina."
"You don't have any problem with stamina," I said playfully before turning serious. "So you wrote a whole album of songs? I'd love to hear some of it."
"Fuck no," he said bluntly. "It's all shit."
"I bet it's not."
"It's sure as fuck not as good as the stuff Cerise comes up with," he said. "She's a fucking genius. My stuff will never sound like hers."
"It doesn't have to," I said. "It only has to sound like you."
Nathan looked taken aback, as if he'd never thought of it that way. I had to wonder what it was like, to be surrounded by people who were so good at their jobs that you thought you'd never match up.
"So the lie was the Jessie and Gael thing?" I asked.
"She's good for him," Nathan said. "Brings out the best in him. So I'm glad he met her."
"You're a good friend," I told him.
He snorted, looking away "Yeah, well…"
"A lot of people would be jealous if they were you," I said. "Some people might even try to break them up or cause trouble. But even though you feel sort of abandoned, you don't wish them any ill will. That's big of you."
"I see the way Gael lights up when he's around her," Nathan said. "He's always been a cheerful guy, but I've never seen him as happy as he is when he's with her. He used to be sort of a fuck up, you know? Acting out, making a goddamn nuisance of himself. Of course," Nathan chuckled, "a lot of those times I went along for the ride. I still remember the look on Cerise's face when she walked into the hotel room we'd just trashed in a drunken stupor. I thought she'd murder us with her eyes alone."
"Trashing hotel rooms?" I made a tsk sound. "Typical rock star."
Nathan shrugged. "Like I said, Gael used to be crazy wild. But ever since he met Jessie, he's calmed down. He takes things more seriously. She's like his rock. He can depend on her." Nathan paused, looking at a point in the distance. "Sometimes I wish I had something like that. Someone I could lean on. Someone I could rely on."
I sympathized completely. With my situation, I'd always have to depend on someone, whether it was my parents, or a partner. Although I knew it would never be fair to put that burden on another person, I could understand the longing.
I just wished Nathan felt like he could talk to his band. It must have been tough, keeping something like this from your closest friends because you didn't want to disrupt their work. Nathan was just as dedicated to his music, his passion, as he was to his mother. It must have been torture, feeling torn between the two.
"Anyway, it's fine," Nathan said hurriedly. "It's just cool Gael's less of an asshole now."
I nodded, letting him deflect.
"Your turn," he said.
We hadn't touched the bottle of rum since he'd come clean about his mom. I didn't bring it up now.
"I regret walking out on you that night," I said. "No one's ever made me feel the things you made me feel. I think there's more to you than just the carefree, playboy rock star you pretend to be."
He huffed out a laugh. "That last one's a lie."
I shook my head. "No. They're all true."
Nathan stared at me. I met his gaze, unflinching.
"That's not how you play the game," he said.
I took one of his hands in mine. He brought his other to my cheek, thumb brushing my skin.
"You may be inexperienced in some ways, but I think you're wiser than most," he said. "I feel like I can tell you things I never talk about. You're not like anyone else I've ever known."
"That last one's a lie," I said. "I'm nothing special."
"They're all true," he echoed.
Nathan moved slowly, inching closer to me, until his lips were a hairsbreadth away from mine. He held himself there, not moving.
I looked up into his eyes. I saw none of his usual teasing, no playfulness. The heat simmering in his gaze was muted. From that deep blue radiated a sincerity I'd rarely seen before.
I brought a hand to the back of his head, burying my fingers in the soft strands. His fingers caressed a trail up my arm, from my inner wrist, along my shoulder, to my collarbone. The entire time, we stared at each other as our breaths mingled.
"Becca," he whispered.
That was all he said. My name. But in that one word I heard a million unsaid things. Because I was thinking them, too. I was feeling them.
I'd been telling the truth when I said no one had ever made me feel the way Nathan made me feel. But I hadn't only been talking about the physical.
Ever since I first met him, Nathan had shown me kindness, a caring and tenderness I never would have expected from someone like him. I felt like I could open up around him. I could let my guard down. I'd never been able to do that with anyone.
And now I knew he felt the same way about me.
But could I rely on him? That was the real question.
A loud noise startled us. The door banged open and flung against the opposite wall. Two guys fell through, landing on the floor as they threw their fists at each other and yelled.
"Break it up!" I heard someone yell from the hallway.
I scrambled away from Nathan, putting distance between us.
I was still all muddled, my mind refusing to admit the things my heart was shouting.
"I'm going to—" I began.
"You don't have to—" he said at the same time.
I flushed and looked away.
"I'm going to get a drink," I mumbled.
I fled the room without looking back.