22. Natalie #2
Natalie stared up at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom, mentally sparring with herself and at times, whispering the F word over and over. In the hours since they'd finished the board game and turned in, she'd had multiple silent conversations behind her closed door.
Well, you wanted a sign … and you got one.
Now you have to decide what you’re going to do with it.
You’ve got two choices: break Kate's heart. Or break your own.
She flipped her pillow to the cool side and prayed for sleep to rescue her.
The house had grown unnervingly quiet. She'd been just as silent during the entirety of the board game, other than her internal screams each time she caught Dash’s eye.
She reached out and placed her hand against the wall on the left side of her bed and held it there.
Two layers of drywall and some insulation are all that separate the two of you.
Might as well be all the world's oceans.
Her phone lit up, casting light around the room. It startled her and took her eyes a moment to adjust. Her stomach knotted when she finally focused and read Kate's name. Her brief text felt like a gut punch.
Kate: Are you still awake? Can we talk?
Shit! She knows! I bet she figured it out the second he pulled out the stopwatch. She probably wants to hash it out right here and now. A knock-down, drag-out catfight, like when we were kids.
Natalie: I’m up. Is everything ok?
Kate: I need to talk to you. Face to face. Can you come to my room?
You're going to have to deal with this sooner or later. Get it over with.
Heart pounding, she swallowed her fear and sent the response her sister deserved.
Natalie: Of course. OMW.
She slipped out of bed, pulled Dash’s sweatshirt over her head, and tiptoed across the room. Pausing at the door, she sent up one final prayer for luck.
Please, please don’t let this be the end of our sisterhood.
As quietly as possible, she turned the knob …
and immediately turned to stone. There stood a barefoot Dash, in gym shorts and a faded UT t-shirt, the sleeves of which held his muscular biceps in a choke hold.
His hair, a dead giveaway that he hadn’t slept a wink because it appeared as perfect as when he’d arrived at the party.
Before she could speak, he pressed a finger against her lips while his eyes pleaded for silence.
He didn't say a word or wait for an invitation.
Dash stepped inside her bedroom and quietly closed the door.
"But how did you—" Natalie began.
"Kate left her phone downstairs. I thought it might be the only way to get you to talk to me."
Alone together for the first time, they stared at one another for what felt like an eternity.
His blue eyes, a stormy sea of recognition, reality, and regret.
She wondered if he could read the compunction in hers.
Natalie wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms, but that wasn’t an option. Not now, not ever.
“I don’t know about you, but this definitely wasn’t on my Trip to Nashville Bingo card,” he said.
“Mine either.”
“Can we sit down and talk?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. If Kate were to walk in here and find us—”
“Five minutes. Please. Then I promise I’ll go.”
An old lava lamp on her bookcase provided the only light in the room. Dim, but enough to see the look of sincerity on his face, and how it matched the tone of his voice.
Natalie backed up and sat on the end of her bed.
Dash parked beside her, leaving a respectable amount of space between their bodies.
Mentally, she slipped into a dangerous place as her thoughts spiraled back to London.
At any moment, she fully expected her heart to burst from her chest and fall onto the bed between them.
Dash locked his fingers together and leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees.
A full minute passed with nothing but silence and the low hum of the ceiling fan overhead.
Natalie held her breath, unsure who would begin speaking first.
Slowly, he turned his head toward her. “I thought I’d figured out everything I wanted to say, but now that I’m here with you …”
“It’s okay. I don’t know what to say either.”
“The phrase unprecedented times comes to mind.”
“I feel like we should consult an Emily Henry novel for guidance here.”
He cracked half a smile. “Maybe there’s a twenty-four-hour hotline? Like the folks at Butterball, when you need help cooking your Thanksgiving turkey.”
Natalie released a long sigh.
Yeah, except I have a goose in this scenario … and it’s most definitely cooked. Burnt to a crisp, in fact.
“God, it was so hard for me to stand there today and pretend like I didn’t know you,” he confessed.
She nodded. “It was hard for me too. I thought for sure you didn’t remember me.”
His eyes and tone grew serious. “I remember everything, Natalie Powell. Everything.”
Natalie sucked in another breath, praying to keep a deluge of regret-filled tears from falling.
So do I. Every look. Every touch.
Every whisper. Every word.
“I’m really proud of you, by the way. Your showcase was beautiful. Fire or no fire, you have a gift and you’re going to succeed. You’re incredibly talented.”
No, I’m incredibly awful, because I’d love nothing more than to crawl in this bed with you and pick right up where we left off.
To feel your strong arms around me. To drown in your gorgeous blue eyes. To taste your kiss one more time and drink in your warm and woody scent all night long.
But I’m not a cheater … and I doubt you are either, Dash Benning.
And I’d walk naked through a cactus garden before I’d ever hurt Kate.
Natalie tucked her hair behind her ears. “It all kinda went to hell in a handbasket there at the end.”
“One hundred percent beyond your control.”
Yeah, well, not exactly.
“But let’s talk about what can be controlled: how we’re gonna handle this moving forward,” he said.
Move forward? How? Natalie & Co is dead in the water and you’re dating my sister. Absolutely no propulsion happening here.
“There’s only one card to play. We can never tell Kate about us,” she said.
Dash tapped his fingertips together. “Which will be way easier for me than it will be for you. Keeping a secret of this magnitude from your sister, who also happens to be your best friend, is a mighty tall order.”
“But the alternative will destroy all that you and Kate have built.” She held his gaze, fighting to stay strong and keep the tears at bay. “I can’t bear the guilt of that. I just can’t.”
“I like Kate. She’s wonderful. We’ve had a lot of fun over the last couple months, but I wouldn’t say we’re super serious.”
Natalie’s eyes narrowed and she chose her words carefully. “Think Kate would say the same thing?”
He ran a hand across his face, a telling wipe that signaled confusion. “Heck, I don’t know. You know your sister better than anyone. I will tell you what I do know though. The night you and I spent together in London has a regular seat at my table of memories.”
“Dash, I—”
He turned his body to face her. “You woke something up in me. After years of running from relationships, you made me realize that I want to share my life with someone—beyond just one night. I thought that someone might be Kate, but now I’m not so sure.”
This statement stunned her to the point of silence.
They sat wordlessly for a minute, Dash’s head bowed and he stared down at the carpeted floor.
She could feel her body growing warm, a physiological reaction to his honesty.
When he looked back up, the emotion in his eyes cut through her like icy blue knives.
“I’d have given you anything you wanted. Supported your career goals fully. Supported you fully—and I’m not just talking financially. But now I guess it’s too late for all that.”
Natalie looked away. His words watered a place inside which had been parched far too long.
She wanted to embrace them, to believe them.
Tie them up with a silk ribbon and hide them beneath her pillow, upon which to have the sweetest dreams. But the price was too great.
In the case of Kate versus Dash, her heart could only rule one way.
If I could go back in time, I’d stay with you. Forever. We built a bonfire that night, Dash. I want that bonfire again. I want the flames. The s’mores. The glowing embers. I want it all.
But you’re with Kate now.
And it’s too late for all that.
Natalie swallowed it all—her heart, her truth, and her emotion. She brought her gaze back to him. His eyes still stormed with confusion, but hers were clear. She placed a hand on his arm, searing the warmth of his skin in her memory.
“London will always hold a special place for me, but I’ve moved on.”
As she whispered to him, the words Foster had spoken a few hours early flashed in her mind like a theater marquee: The things we do for love, my dear.