Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
RILEY
The next morning, I wake up in bed and stretch with a grin on my face.
Last night’s events come rushing back to me.
Yes, this time I remember how I got home.
Nat and I had a hard conversation about Betty and my old job. The argument—if I can call it that—reached an amicable end. We cuddled while he massaged my scalp and it felt so good that I was out like a light.
Sometime later, Nat woke me up and drove me home.
We didn’t talk on the drive back, but it was a comfortable sort of silence that felt like we’d been dating for years instead of days.
Nat walked me up the stairs, holding my hand.
He couldn’t let go.
I couldn’t either.
Then he reminded me that I had work in a few hours.
I kissed him goodnight.
It woke me right up.
We ended up kissing in the hallway.
Until, unfortunately, Chris called to ask why Nat wasn’t home yet.
The menace.
I will hold that ill-fated call against him for the rest of my life.
But today is a new day. Chris is flying back home later, and I can see Nat again without any interruptions from my older brother.
Feeling more energetic than I have a right to be at this hour, I skip to the bathroom and brush my teeth.
More memories from last night’s incredible date rush through my head. The airplanes. The pickup bed. Unveiling my deepest, darkest secrets under the stars.
It was the perfect night.
I need to do something just as amazing for Nat for our next date.
Tamping down my giddiness as best as I can, I spit the toothpaste suds out and gurgle one more time. As I do, a strange memory lodges in my skull.
It’s of Nat, limping down the stairs.
My arm loses strength and both it and the toothbrush swing downward.
Closing my eyes, I push aside the memories of us kissing at my front door.
Nat released me after Chris’s call. He gave me a kiss on the forehead, whispered ‘goodnight’ and told me to lock up after he left. I opened the door and stepped inside, but then I turned for one more glance at Nat’s broad shoulders.
His gait was strange, like he was favoring one leg.
My eyes widen.
He was limping. I’m sure of it.
Did he hurt himself during the game? Or is it even worse? Has he been training and playing hockey this entire time while his previously-injured leg has been deteriorating?
My pulse quickens, but I force the thought away. If it were that serious, Nat would say something.
On the way out of the bathroom, I grab my phone from the nightstand and check for new messages.
There are none.
Nat must be fast asleep, which I don’t blame him for. We got in very late last night.
Focusing on the day ahead, I drive to the auto shop a little after seven-fifteen.
I’m slacking, I know. However, as I predicted, no one else is here. My mechanics are notoriously late every day, but if they think I’m going to throw my hands up and concede defeat, they have no idea.
I plan on trying several different methods to get them to work on time.
And if all else fails, they’ll show up to work when they want to and I’ll pay them what they’re owed for that. Hopefully, after the shock of their first paycheck comes in, they’ll learn that I am not someone to be trifled with.
I’ve opened the last of the shutters when I hear a car rumbling up to the garage. I can tell who’s arrived by the roar of their engines alone and that vehicle doesn’t sound like Jimmy, Carlos or Blade.
It sounds like…
“Nat,” I say breathlessly as my boyfriend saunters into the mechanic shop.
He’s wearing a jacket and jeans that he probably has to get customized to fit his ridiculously tall frame. His close-cropped hair brings all the attention to his impossibly green eyes and wide mouth that’s tilting up at the corners.
“I brought donuts and coffee.” He lifts a bag in one hand.
A grin explodes on my face and I start jogging to Nat, only to slip on one of the mysterious oil splotches on the floor.
My feet lose traction and I skid like I’ve got wheels attached to my work boots. Nat drops the donuts and coffee and rushes forward, arms extended. We collide in a painful clash of arms and legs as we land hard on the ground.
“Are you okay?” I ask, pushing myself up. My hair scrubs against the buttons on his jacket.
A vein is popping in Nat’s forehead, but he laughs and wraps an arm around my waist. “I’m okay. Are you?”
“Yeah.” My eyes track to his leg as the smell of brake fluid envelops us both. “Did I hurt you?”
Nat’s fingers grip my chin and he turns my attention back to his face. His green eyes study me as if I’m a beautiful painting and he can’t get enough. “I bet this hurt less than before.”
“Before?”
“When you fell from heaven.”
I burst out laughing and smack Nat across the chest.
“Oof.” He jolts upward.
“Sorry. Did I hit you too hard?” I cover my mouth in shock and embarrassment.
“It’s okay.” Nat rubs his chest, his face turning red. “You pack a punch, Riles.”
I soothe his chest with my fingertips. “Better now?”
“I need something stronger.” Nat taps his mouth. “You know, to help distract from the pain.”
Laughingly, I give him a close-mouthed peck. “There.”
Nat winces but, this time, it seems like he’s really in pain.
“Nat, are you okay?”
He shows me a strained smile. “I need a stronger dosage, Doc.”
“The mechanics will be here soon.”
His big hands tighten on my back and he nudges my nose with his, lips curling up in that irresistible ‘I’m yours’ smile.
I’m drawn to him like a magnet to steel.
Like a moth to a flame.
Like a coffee addict to her favorite cafe.
I lower my face to his and kiss him slowly, possessively, letting my lips glide on his, as easy as a finely-tuned engine left to idle.
It’s, perhaps, a little too intense of a kiss because Nat makes a strange, animal-like sound in response. His touch firms on my back and his other hand slides up my cheek and into my hair as he caresses me in a way that’s absolutely feral.
“Ehem!”
Nat and I pop apart.
“Ew.” My older brother points at our lips. “A saliva string…”
“Chris!” I scramble to my feet.
Nat moves at a more sedate pace and, it could just be me, but I think I see him looking at his left leg in worry.
Chris distracts me by folding his arms over his chest. “Here I thought I’d visit my sister’s new gig at least once before I head back home.
Instead, my poor, innocent eyes are accosted by you two pawing at each other on the floor.
” He turns an accusing eye on Nat. “Doesn’t my sister at least deserve some cushion, bro? ”
“I—”
Chris pales. “Forget it. Don’t answer that.” He scrubs at his temple. “I need a memory eraser.”
Nat straightens to his full height and nods at Chris. “I thought you said you were getting ready for the airport?”
“And I thought you said you were going for donuts?”
“I was.” Nat points to where the donuts have splattered on the ground.
Chris shakes his head.
“Thanks for stopping by, Big Bro.” I reach up to give Chris a hug.
He steps back, his nose scrunched. “Sorry, Riles. I know where your hands have been.” Chris arches an eyebrow pointedly in Nat’s direction. “Plus, you smell like W-D 40.”
I grin and stretch out my hands, slipping right back into the little sister role that I occupied when we shared the same house. “One little hug won’t hurt, Chris.”
“Riley, stay away from me,” Chris says, backing up.
“Come give me a hug.”
“Riley!” Chris roars and then he takes off around the shop.
I normally frown on playing around in a garage.
An auto shop is an extremely dangerous place filled with hazardous items. However, it’s not every day I get to put that horrified expression on my brother’s face.
After years of being on the receiving end of his jokes and pranks, this feels like poetic justice.
While we’re running around, I notice Nat has his back to us and he’s standing very still. It’s unlike him to not pay attention or join in the fun.
I stop chasing Chris.
At that moment, Nat drops a hand and massages his leg through his jeans.
I can only imagine the scars he’s hiding there. He hasn’t once brought up what he went through with the accident, his surgery or the months of intense physical therapy. It’s almost as if he’d rather erase that painful time out of existence.
But not mentioning it won’t change the fact that it happened. His body endured severe trauma. His leg is currently being held together by metal rods and scarred tissue.
Nat’s leg, whether he likes it or not, is a concern.
And I have a sick, twisted feeling that he’ll push it to its breaking point before ever admitting he needs help.