Chapter 20 #2
When I pulled back, I knew my eyes were glassy, but I refused to shed a tear. “He can’t ever hurt me again. You were right about the things you said, about who he is. I’m okay. I’m going to be okay.”
“Of course you are.” He stroked my hair back from my face, his expression earnest. “Do I need to beat the snot out of him?”
The question made me laugh, and I shook my head. “He’s a small man, and you’re a giant. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”
He grinned. “I’m still willing to do it. I don’t care if I have to stomp on him like an ant.”
“You don’t,” I promised. “He can’t touch me any longer. I gave him that power for far too long. He’s a ghost from the past. I’m looking toward the future now.”
An emotion I couldn’t quite identify sparked in Nathan’s eyes—hope?
—but it was replaced by a smug smile as he turned to greet an approaching Preston.
“That’s good to know.” He kept me close, hugging me tighter.
I couldn’t see his face, but somehow I knew he was sending a warning look toward Preston.
“I’m glad you’ve finally realized your worth. ”
“He’s an idiot.”
“Oh, he’s definitely an idiot.”
“You know I can hear you, right?” Preston challenged.
“We know,” Nathan confirmed. “We just don’t care.”
ONCE I GOT MY EMOTIONS UNDER control, things progressed as they were scheduled to progress. We had dinner together as a group—there had to be seventy-five people spread out over multiple tables—and the sound of raucous laughter filled the air.
Nathan wanted to stick close to me. It was written all over his face. Preston insisted the men sit in one group and the women in another, however, and he reluctantly agreed when Bree looped her arm through mine and led me toward a table.
I could feel his eyes on me the entire time. He smiled whenever I looked up, warmth permeating through him, and with each shared glance, I fell harder and faster.
He wasn’t acting like a fake boyfriend. Not any longer, at least. He was acting like a real boyfriend, and no matter how much I wanted to pretend that wasn’t important to me, I could no longer deny it.
I wanted more from him.
It would have to wait until after we were done at this campground.
If I told him I was feeling something real and I’d misread the situation and he didn’t feel the same way, then staying together in the same cabin—the same bed—would be impossible.
I wouldn’t give up our cuddly mornings for anything. I lived for them now.
Still—still—I had hope that things would work out.
Maybe all of this wasn’t happening because Preston was a jerk.
Maybe it was all leading toward something great.
I hadn’t believed I was ready for a relationship, and maybe at the beginning it had been true.
I was ready now, though. Nathan had made me feel more coveted, more protected, than anyone before him.
There was a chance. I just had to play things the right way.
Once dinner was finished, we moved to the bonfire.
There Nathan took charge and told scary stories.
Even though Preston had done his best to keep the women and men separated, in the middle of one of the stories, Nathan moved around the fire.
When he settled a second time, it was on the bench in front of where I was standing.
He was tall enough that my chin fit directly over his head.
He took my hands and wrapped them around his shoulders to hang loosely as he told another story.
Preston’s gaze was a burning pyre of hate, but I refused to look at him.
Around midnight, Nathan looked over at me and asked if I was ready for bed. He almost seemed to be asking something else, and even though I’d convinced myself that volunteering what I was feeling should wait, I nodded.
Nathan took my hand. We bid everybody goodnight, then we sauntered past Preston without sparing him a glance and went straight to our cabin.
It was apparent the whole walk what we were going to do. Nathan kept a firm grip on me, then the second we were through the door, his hands moved to my hips, and he boosted me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist.
The second our lips met for our first kiss—the first of many, I hoped—it was as if fireworks were going off in my head. The world was no longer black and white but an explosion of color.
He placed me on the small counter and cupped the back of my head. The intensity in his eyes when he pulled back caused my breath to catch. “I was going to wait,” he rasped. “Until the retreat was over. I thought it would be easier.”
“You thought what would be easier?” My voice was barely audible I was so worked up.
“This. All of this. Us.” He looked momentarily pained. “I can’t wait, although I will if you want to wait.”
Was he kidding me right now? “Why would I possibly want to wait?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see anything but you right now. If you don’t want this, I need you to tell me that because I’m too far gone.”
He was ridiculous. “Did you not see me just climb you like a tree?”
He grinned.
“I want this,” I assured him. A small, niggling part of my brain believed we should talk about the logistics before we did it. The bigger part of me, the one that was on fire, didn’t care. “I really, really want this. I have wanted this. I just—”
He cut me off with a fervent kiss. His eyes were wild when he pulled back. “I know. We’ll figure it all out together. I just… I need you.”
That was all he had to say. Nobody had ever needed me before. I needed to be needed.
“I’m right here,” I replied.
His mouth was on mine again, and he lifted me from the counter and carried me toward the bed. “You’d better brace yourself,” he warned. “It’s going to be a long night.”
I laughed, and nothing had ever felt so freeing. “Is this where you unleash the cobra?”
“Bellarino, this is where I unleash everything.”
I should have been nervous—this was a huge step—but I just smiled at him as if he’d offered me the world. “Bring it on.”