25. Zoe
TWENTY-FIVE
zoe
“Finally, the weekend,” I said, walking into my apartment. “Nate?”
He wasn’t in the kitchen. Or bedroom.
I found him on the deck, but instead of opening the door, I stopped. Watched him through the sliding glass doors. His hands were folded behind his head, those sexy forearms flexed. Staring up at the sky, he looked peaceful.
But I knew better.
It hadn’t even been a week since we’d first met in person, but I’d quickly come to understand what Lucas had been trying to tell me. There were essentially two Nates. The one I’d gotten to know over text, who seemed so open. Every question I’d asked, he answered. From all of his favorite things, to his deepest, darkest desires. It felt as if, in just a short time, we’d made up for a lifetime of not knowing each other.
And then there was the Nate I didn’t know at all. The one I kept hearing about. The “private and guarded” Nate. He’d mentioned ideas for his future but seemed reluctant to talk about them. So many times he grew quiet, even after a raucous bout of lovemaking where it seemed I was getting the whole man. In those moments, I imagined he was thinking of Africa. He’d warned there would be an adjustment, but I already knew that from my father. And so, I let him have those moments, making sure Nate knew I was there if he wanted to talk about it.
But he never did.
That was the Nate I watched now. The one who kept his emotions inside. The one who claimed he had never loved a woman. Which was problematic since there was no doubt I was in love with him.
“You coming out, Zoe girl?”
I pushed the sliding glass door open all the way and stepped onto the deck. “You never even looked over at me. How did you know I was there?”
He turned his head toward me. The man was even hotter in person than in pictures. It was the eyes, the warmth in them, that didn’t translate in a pic.
“Remember what I do for a living. Or did for a living.”
“Spotter. Right. I had forgotten for a second.”
“I think you also forgot to come over here and sit on my lap.”
Smiling, I did just that as Nate sat up to make space for me. His arm went around my shoulder as he brought me in for a long, lingering kiss. It wasn’t like most of our kisses, frantic with the need of two people separated for too long. This one was slow. Sensual.
Dare I think it?
Loving.
“Oh,” I said, remembering suddenly. “Let me see.”
Nate showed me his new ink. It looked awesome.
“Hot.”
He laughed. “Thanks. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of an unexpected half day?”
“Well, I was able to wrap everything up, though I will have to go in tomorrow for an hour or two to check on a wedding reception setup. I thought maybe we could head to Sunset Winery. They have an afternoon wine cruise around the lake.” Suddenly, it occurred to me. “You don’t like wine.”
His expression neutral, Nate shrugged. “That’s okay. Sounds like fun anyway. I’m game to give it a try.”
“I think they serve beer too. Actually, I know they do at the winery, but I’m just not sure about the cruise. Or we can skip the cruise—”
“It’s fine. Honestly.”
For some reason, it didn’t seem fine. I didn’t want to burst the happy bubble we’d been in after working through Friday’s issues, but I simply couldn’t resist.
“It doesn’t seem fine. Everything okay?”
Despite the fact that one of his hands played with a strand of my hair and Nate had just kissed me like it was our first time, he felt more distant than usual.
“I wish I liked wine.”
Oh my God. That was all? “It really doesn’t matter. Almost all of the wineries have beer now. One even just opened a new brewery this summer. That’s nothing.”
“But it’s not nothing. You’re the kind of woman who deserves a wine guy, Zoe.”
So, this wasn’t about wine. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“You know what that means.”
Every once in a while, Nate said something so direct it took me aback for a second. If I were at work talking to my boss, or even in college talking to a professor, a comment like that wouldn’t even make me blink. But from my boyfriend? It just felt. . . emotionless.
“Maybe explain,” I said, probably overthinking the emotionless thing.
“It means a guy like me, an army grunt with no career ahead of him, a blue-collar guy. . .” He shrugged, without finishing.
My gut instinct was to tell him he was out of his mind. That I could take care of myself and couldn’t give two shits about that. He’d served his country admirably, was in a transition period after having the rug pulled out from under him, and that was that.
But Nate wouldn’t take kindly to being told he was wrong. That his train of thinking was wrong. So, I tried a different tactic.
“Why do you think that?”
For a second, I thought he might open up. Tell me. And then I could explain that he made me feel something no one ever had precisely. That maybe he wasn’t so far off claiming never to have loved a woman, because it seemed crazy, but maybe I hadn’t been in love with Erik either. If I were forced to put into words the way I’d felt last Friday, realizing I wasn’t going to see Nate. . . incredibly, there was no comparison.
The bond we’d forged before becoming intimate physically was unbreakable.
“Forget it,” he said, pulling me toward him.
But I wouldn’t be waylaid. “Nate?”
Resisting him for the first time ever, I refused to be sidetracked by his eyes, which suddenly became hooded. Or his lips, which now parted. He wouldn’t close me out that easily.
“Talk to me.”
Sighing, he gave up trying to kiss me. His fingers no longer threaded my hair.
“There’s nothing to talk about. We’re very different, that’s all.”
“You called yourself an army grunt with no career ahead of him. That’s not ‘nothing.’”
“Zoe,” he said in a tone I wasn’t accustomed to, one that was more hard-line than usual. “That’s just the truth.”
“No career, huh?”
“None to speak of. A job? Sure. But I’m not a college guy, never will be. Is what it is.”
“So what? You’re not going to college? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Come on. You know exactly why that matters.”
“Why are you talking like this? As if you can’t wait for the conversation to be over.”
“Because I can’t.”
I simply stared at him. “Seriously?” I stood. Nate didn’t attempt to pull me back down, so I moved over to the chair across from him. “So this is the closed-off Nate I keep hearing about?”
“You say that as if I didn’t warn you myself.”
“Sure, but. . .”
“But?”
“I guess I didn’t believe you. Or thought you’d be different with me.”
He frowned. “I’m trying to be different with you, but there’s just nothing more to say here. I shouldn’t have brought it up and would love to go on the wine cruise with you. We can talk about my plans, the ones that don’t include college, and my future. Specifically, our future. Now will you come back and sit on my lap again?”
Nate said all the right words. Yet, there was something lacking in his pretty speech. No matter what he said, Nate had closed me off. Maybe on the cruise I’d learn why.
“I only moved because you stopped playing with my hair,” I said in lieu of pushing him away even further. I had the sense that wasn’t going to work.
“I only stopped playing with your hair because you wouldn’t kiss me.”
“I wouldn’t kiss you because you stopped talking to me.”
“Not true. I’m talking to you now.”
I smiled. “Why do I get the feeling I’m never going to win with you?”
“Because you won’t.” He said it so straight-faced, I almost believed him. “Now come over here, get on my lap, and let me finger you until you scream my name so loud the neighbors can all hear you.”
“Tempting. But only on one condition.”
“Mmmm. I’m not a fan of conditions.”
Again, I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. But it didn’t matter. I was giving him a condition anyway. “Don’t default to shutting me out, Nate. Even if it’s something you do with other people. I’m not other people,” I said as authoritatively as possible. He needed to understand that particular point.
“No, Zoe girl, you certainly are not. I don’t volunteer to finger other people.”
I smiled. “Deal?”
“I’m trying.”
It was all I could ask for. “Then so am I.” Standing, I was barely close enough for Nate to reach out his hand and grab me when I found myself hauled onto his lap. And just like that, the discussion was over. Because when he said he would finger me until I called out his name, the man wasn’t joking around. I refused to think about the amount of practice those hands must have had to open my pants so damn quickly. Instead, I focused on what he was doing with those hands and congratulated myself on coming home from work early.
If this wasn’t worth a half day, I couldn’t imagine what was. And it was only the beginning of our day.