7. Liz
Chapter seven
Liz
I nod, taking a deep breath, knowing I need to do something about this tension that’s been hanging between Nate and me. Ever since last week, he has been distant, closed off, as if there’s something heavy weighing on him. I’ve seen him this way at work before, but never around me, never at home. And the fact that he is skipping lunch only makes me worry more.
At his desk, typing away, he looks like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. I cannot stand it anymore. I know something is bothering him, but I can’t quite figure out what. And honestly? It’s bugging me that it’s bugging me so much.
I shake off the unease and step into his office, holding two takeout bags in my hands. His favorite. If anything is going to pull him out of whatever funk he is in, it’s this.
“Nate,” I say, stepping inside without knocking. “I brought lunch.”
He barely looks up, and mutters something about being busy.
I roll my eyes and walk right over to his desk, setting the bags down with a thud.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been missing lunch lately, and that’s not good for your health.”
“I’ve been busy,” he grumbles, not taking his eyes off the computer.
I cross my arms, tilting my head as I look at him.
“Well, you’ve got to eat. And I’m not leaving until you join me.”
His fingers pause over the keyboard for a moment, as if considering his options, then he lets out a long sigh.
“Liz—”
“Nate,” I interrupt, matching his tone with a teasing one of my own.
“Come on. You need a quick lunch break. I promise I won’t keep you long.”
Finally, he glances up at me, and I see something flicker in his eyes. He’s reluctant, but I can tell he’s softening. He stands up, pushing his chair back with a resigned sigh.
“Fine. But only because you’re stubborn.”
I flash him a grin, the kind that I know usually makes him roll his eyes, but this time? I see the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It warms something inside me.
We move over to the small table in his office, and I set out the food. I make sure to sit close enough to him that we’re not shouting across the room. But far enough away that the tension simmering between us doesn’t get too out of control. Though lately, I don’t know if there’s any distance that would help with that.
“Here,” I say, sliding his favorite dish toward him. “I knew you’d be too wrapped up in work to grab something, so I took the liberty.”
He looks down at the food, then back up at me, his expression softer now.
“Thanks, Liz. You didn’t have to.”
I wave him off.
“Please. I enjoy feeding grumpy workaholics.”
He chuckles, and the sound sends a small shiver through me. I miss hearing him laugh. Lately, it’s been all brooding Nate, and I miss the way we used to talk, the easy banter we shared.
We dig into the food, and for the first few minutes, it’s quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. I can feel him relaxing a bit, like the weight on his shoulders is momentarily forgotten. Then, as if to break the silence, I decide to test the waters.
“You know,” I say, trying to keep my tone light,
“I’ve noticed you’ve been off lately. And I don’t think it’s work.”
Nate glances up at me, chewing slowly, his eyes narrowing a fraction. “What makes you say that?”
I shrug, poking at my food.
“Call it intuition. I mean, I know you pretty well by now, and you’ve been... distant.”
He sets his fork down, leaning back in his chair, his expression unreadable.
“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”
I tilt my head, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at me, and I can see the walls going up. The distance growing.
“You don’t have to tell me the details,” I say, my voice softer now.
“But I miss our talks, Nate. And I just... I don’t know. I feel like maybe I’ve done something wrong?”
His eyes snap to mine, and for a moment, I see something flash in them—guilt, maybe?
“No, Liz. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
There is a sincerity in his voice that I wasn’t expecting, and it catches me off guard.
“Then why are you pushing me away?”
Quiet for a moment, his gaze fixes on mine, and I can feel the air between us growing heavier. There is something unspoken here. There's something we’ve been dancing around for weeks now, and it’s all bubbling to the surface.
“I’m not pushing you away,” he says, but his voice is tight, like he is holding something back.
I meet his gaze, refusing to back down.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
The tension crackles in the air between us, and before I know it, Nate reaches across the table, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth.
“You’ve got a little something...”
His touch is warm, gentle, and for a moment, everything around us fades away. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat as his thumb lingers on my lips, his eyes locked on mine.
Everything slows down. The sounds of the office fade, the only thing I can hear is the rush of my own heartbeat in my ears. I should pull away. I should laugh it off and make some joke to break the tension, but I can’t. I can’t move, I can’t breathe, because all I can think about is how close he is. About how his eyes are darkening with something I’ve never seen before.
I see his gaze flick down to my lips, his thumb still brushing softly against my skin, and my pulse spikes. Every nerve in my body is on high alert. Every inch of me is hyper-aware of his presence, of the way his breathing has shifted, just like mine.
“Nate...” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
His eyes meet mine again, and for a split second, I think he’s going to kiss me. I can feel it, the tension between us crackling like static, pulling us together like magnets. My heart is racing, my skin tingling with anticipation.
But just as his lips start to move closer, reality snaps back in, and I jerk away, the spell breaking in an instant.
“I... I should go,” I stammer, pushing back from the table, my pulse still racing as I stand.
“I just remembered I have... something...”
I can’t even finish my sentence. My head is spinning, my heart pounding, and all I can think about is how close we just came to crossing a line I’m not sure either of us is ready for.
Nate doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his eyes on me as I hurry out of his office. My cheeks burn and my skin still tingles where he touched me.
What just happened?
***
It’s the weekend and the sun is high, warming the beach. Waves crash in the distance. The air is salty, filled with children's laughter and seagull calls. Max runs ahead, his excitement infectious as he clutches Boomer' leash.
“Come on, Liz! Let’s race before the water gets too far!”
I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even though my mind is still stuck. That almost-kiss with Nate has been replaying in my head over and over. I’ve been trying desperately to shake it off. Nothing happened, but we came so close to breaking the unspoken rules—rules I need to keep reminding myself about.
I glance over at Nate, who's carrying the beach chairs. He’s wearing navy-blue swim trunks, his tanned skin gleaming in the sunlight. It takes everything in me to keep my eyes from lingering too long on his abs. Perfectly toned, every muscle flexes with each step he takes, and I feel a flutter in my stomach. Get a grip, Liz .
He catches me staring, and his smoldering gaze meets mine for a fraction of a second before he looks away. It sends my heart into overdrive. I need to focus on something else, anything else, because my brain is doing things I’d rather it not. I’m not supposed to be here, swooning over my brother’s best friend, no matter how ridiculously attractive he is.
Max runs toward the waves, and Boomer barks, excited to join him.
"Wait for us!" I call, laughing, trying to force myself to loosen up.
I step into the sand, feeling the heat beneath my feet, wearing my own modest swimsuit, black with a halter neck. Not too revealing, but apparently enough for Nate’s eyes to trail over me in moments when he thinks I’m not looking. Each time he does, I feel it. My skin tingles where his gaze lingers, making it impossible to forget the tension that simmers between us.
We set up our spot on the beach, laying out the towels and positioning the umbrella. But before long, Max is begging for us to join him in the water, Boomer already bounding after him into the waves.
"Come on, Liz, let’s race!” Max shouts again, splashing the water with his hands.
I laugh.
"Alright, alright, let’s see what you’ve got!” I chase after him, the cool ocean waves washing over my feet. I’m grateful for the distraction. Max is a ball of energy, and for a few minutes, everything feels light again easy.
Nate joins us, wading into the water, his chest slick with droplets that shimmer under the sunlight. His smile is rare, but when Max throws a handful of water at him, he can’t help but laugh. I bite my lip, trying not to stare, but it’s impossible. He’s magnetic, effortlessly pulling me in even when I know I should keep my distance.
We start playing beach games, first running through the shallow water, then attempting to build sandcastles with Max. He has more fun knocking them down than constructing anything. Boomer runs around, chasing seagulls, completely soaked from his earlier romp in the waves.
At some point, Max and I start a game of beach volleyball. I spike the ball, sending it high above Nate, who reaches out to catch it. He dives, and the next thing I know, I’m losing my balance, tripping over the sand and falling straight onto Nate. My hands splay out across his chest, and suddenly, we are tangled together in the sand, my body pressed up against his.
Time freezes.
I can feel the hard lines of his muscles beneath me, the heat radiating off his skin mixing with the warmth of the sun. I’m breathless, my heart pounding in my chest as his eyes lock onto mine. His gaze is intense, dark, and it holds me there, suspended in the moment. His hands rest on my waist, and for a split second, I forget where we are. I forget everything except the way he feels under me, the way his breath mingles with mine.
I want to lean in. I want to feel what I know would happen if we let go. But before either of us can move, Max’s laughter cuts through the tension.
“You fell, Liz!” he giggles, running over with Boomer by his side, completely oblivious to the moment Nate and I were caught up in.
I scramble off Nate, my cheeks burning as I stand and brush the sand off. My heart is still racing, and I can’t look at him. I can’t believe how close I came to letting that happen. Again.
"Yeah, I fell," I say, my voice shaky as I try to laugh it off, my legs feeling like jelly.
"That’s what happens when you play volleyball with a seven-year-old beach pro." Max retorts.
Nate stands up, brushing the sand off his swim trunks, but his eyes stay on me, unreadable. I avoid his gaze, focusing on Max as we collect our things. It’s time to head back, and I know we both need the distance.
On the drive home, Max is out like a light, his head tilted back against the seat as Boomer curls up beside him. The car is quiet, too quiet, except for the soft sounds of the road beneath the tires.
I try to break the silence with a light joke.
"Looks like we wore them out," I say in a hush, nodding toward Max and Boomer.
Nate glances at me, his jaw tense, then gives a brief nod.
"Yeah," he says, his voice low. But there’s something in his tone telling me he’s still thinking about what almost happened back there on the beach. I can feel the weight of it between us, thickening the air.
I can’t take the tension anymore. I need to talk about it, to clear the air. I don’t know if it’s going to make things worse, but I try.
“Nate,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper so as not to wake Max.
“About earlier... in your office and today at the beach...”
But before I can finish, he cuts me off.
“Liz, nothing happened.” His voice is firm, almost cold, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than me.
I blink, surprised by the sharpness in his tone.
“I know nothing happened, but you don’t have to apologize for it—”
“I do,” he says, his eyes still focused on the road.
“I’m supposed to protect you.”
I furrow my brow, frustration bubbling up inside me.
“I’m not a kid, Nate. I’m not some little girl who needs protecting. We almost kissed, and even if it had happened, we’re both adults.”
He grips the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white.
“Liz, nothing will happen.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, sending a sharp pain through my chest. I didn’t realize how much I wanted him to contradict himself until now. I wanted him to say that he felt the same pull I did—that he wasn’t denying it.
I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “Right. I get it. I’m not your type.”
He glances at me then, a flash of something like regret flickering in his eyes before he looks away.
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point, Nate?” I ask, my voice quieter now, almost broken. I hate how much his words are affecting me, but I can’t help it. The sting of rejection is like a thousand tiny cuts, each one deeper than the last.
He sighs, his shoulders tense. “You’re like a little sister to me, Liz. That’s how I’ve always seen you.”
That hurts more than anything. A little sister? I should be glad relieved even that he’s drawing such a clear line between us. But hearing those words come out of his mouth makes my heart shatter. I don’t want to be his little sister. I want him to see me as a woman.
I bite my lip, nodding even though everything inside me is screaming.
“I understand,” my voice betraying the tears I’m holding back.
“Let’s just... not bring it up again.”
The rest of the drive is silent. The weight of his rejection hangs heavy in the air, pressing down on me like a lead blanket. I turn my face toward the window, watching the trees blur by, trying to keep the tears from falling. Because no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, Nate’s words feel like a final blow to whatever hope I had left.
A little sister. That’s all I’ll ever be to him.
And for some reason, that’s not enough anymore.