14. Nate
FOURTEEN
NATE
It’s hard to tell if Max is interested in her more than his usual flirtation. I can see the way he watches her.
He’s drawn to her.
Seeing her laugh at his flirty snuggle offer has a knife twisting in my gut; the shadow of inferiority and the familiar feeling of not being enough sinks its claws deep.
Rosy is mine.
“I snuggle.” The words leave my mouth without thought, and I can’t take them back.
I sound petulant, and I hate it.
But seeing the laughter bubbling out of her…and she’s all happy and shit. It’s hard to let go of the jealousy beating at my chest, wanting out.
I want her happy, but I want her to be mine. She might not know it yet, but she’s a part of my soul.
I’ve never been picked, never been someone’s person. Instead I’ve always been taught that love is conditional; love is a privilege and not given freely. Until meeting the guys, I spent my life trying to earn her love, her attention, her affection.
But it was never enough and never will be.
Bitterness coats my throat over the painful, familiar resentment that cloaks me as I watch Rosy. She looks happy.
As if sensing my inner turmoil, with her face cupped in a palm and elbow resting on the sofa arm, she tilts to face me, an easy smile stretched across her pretty mouth… Like water to a flame, the unease inside me is fucking washed away.
That smile is for me.
Having her attention focused on me quashes the insecurity and jealousy, and the painful grip they had on my gut eases. I return her smile with a slight tilt to my lips, wanting to acknowledge that I see her too.
Her pinky finger twitches and brushes mine. Our hands lie side by side, so I stretch the short distance and link our two fingers together.
Mine fucking smothers hers, surrounding it. Protecting her.
The small contact both eases the need to touch her and exasperates it.
I want all of her.
Her eyes widen slightly, and she looks down at our hands, then glances back up at me. Not wanting to give her the chance to question it, I turn back to the others and tune into their conversation.
“It will be nice to have a couple weeks off for Easter break.” Noah groans. “I have to keep reminding myself that I love my students. But this year’s group seems especially trying compared to usual; either that, or I’m just burnt out already.”
“You’re a teacher?” Rosy says, her voice lifting in surprise.
Noah’s body straightens, and a proud smile overtakes his face “I am. I teach Year 11 English Literature.”
“Ouch, teaching teenagers must be tough.” She winces.
Noah laughs loudly. “Definitely. But it’s rewarding too.
It’s a trying time in their life. There’s a lot of pressure to pass exams and to choose what to do next in their life.
Being a part of that, helping to guide them and set them up for their future, is what motivates me to get up and deal with all their tantrums and attitude every day,” he answers with a smile.
“That’s…a really inspiring outlook and take on it. Especially knowing that your job is making a positive impact on people’s lives. I envy you for that.”
A frown mars my face at her words. She doesn’t think she impacts lives? We’re all sitting here hanging on her every word and move.
“Beautiful, you spend your free, unpaid time caring for animals. I think that calls bullshit on what you just said and think about yourself,” Max interjects, leaning over to nudge her shoulder from his seat in the armchair next to her.
The move pushes her closer to me. Our shoulders touch, and she doesn’t do anything to move away.
She feels good. Warm. Soft.
Mine.
“What do you do for work?” Bry asks, as he places his empty plate onto the coffee table.
My eyes flick back to Rosy, not wanting to miss anything as I drink up her every tiny detail. Her nose scrunches, head tilting to the side and exposing the slope of her neck.
“Sadly, nothing important or world changing. I’m an assistant at a recruitment agency. Some evenings, I do food deliveries too.” She shrugs, dropping her eyes to stare at her lap.
She works two jobs, goes to the gym, and volunteers two days a week?
And she just shrugs it off like it’s nothing.
“You’re important,” I snap, wincing at my tone. I need to try to be softer for her. Be more like Noah and say nice, flowery words and shit.
Her brows dart up as she looks at me. Why is that surprising to her? Bullshit people in her life not appreciating her enough. Makes me want to punch something, so I scrub a hand through my jaw roughly. Think flowery thoughts, something girly and nice. “You’ve changed our world.”
“Thank you, Nate,” she whispers, giving my finger a squeeze with hers. She’s making me feel uncomfortable looking at me like that; all wide eyes and soft lips.
She shouldn’t be thanking me for stating a fact.
Rosy wouldn’t be thanking me if she knew my soul’s already decided she’s mine. This is the sort of thing I’m probably supposed to ask before deciding, but fuck it, I can tell her later.
Maybe.
A small yawn stretches her face, and a pink flush skates across her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t yawning at you. I promise. I’m just tired,” she rushes to explain, all flustered and pretty, and a hand settles on my arm.
Concern hits me, and my body tenses.
Is she not sleeping enough?
Fuck, maybe I need to make sure she’s getting to bed on time. I don’t want something to happen to her because she was too tired to see it coming. What if she’s driving to work and crashes? Or…anything could fucking happen.
I stare intently at her. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Her eyes get all twinkly as they stare back at me. “Because I’m awake and here with you all…” It hits me that she’s teasing me.
A twitch pulls at my lips; the sass is cute.
“Come on. I’ll walk you back so you can sleep. It’s getting late.” I stand, offering her my hand.
She stares at it, then sighs. “Sorry, I’m not a good sleeper, so I end up being tired most of the time.”
Her small fingers slip into mine, and I tug her up, apparently with more force than needed as she sways into me. Her other hand lands on my chest, and the feel of her through my T-shirt has a warm vibration thrumming through me.
She’s addictive.
Her fingers clench slightly before she lets her hand drop, and she steps back, turning to face the others.
“Hope you don’t mind if I head home. Thank you so much for dinner, Bry. It was amazing; best pizza I’ve ever had.”
He jumps to his feet, beaming. “Glad you enjoyed it. Let me grab you some leftovers to take back. We still have some of the veggie ones, and Max won’t touch those, so they're all yours.” He laughs, heading into the kitchen.
“I heard that! I eat some veg, you know. I’d eat more if it tasted as good as pepperoni,” Max yells, sounding like a petulant brat. “When are you next coming over?” Max asks, springing up and crowding Rosy.
She worries her lip between those delicate teeth, then slowly says, “Umm…I’m not sure. I’ll let you know?”
Max lets out a huff, then gives her a hug that lingers…slightly too long.
Noah steps forward once Max releases her. “Is it okay for me to give you a hug too?”
Do they all need to touch her?
Looking sort of…bashful, she ducks her head and nods. With the way he’s standing next to me and bent slightly for her to reach, I can see her face as it tucks onto his shoulder, when his arms wrap around her.
She’s happy.
I want her to be happy, more than anything, but it feels like a lead weight hitting my gut to see her feel that with someone else. Both jealousy and happiness curdle together in my stomach. It’s uncomfortable as shit.
But I look down and her hand is still in mine. She’s not leaving me out. Even as she’s in his arms, she’s still including me. Frowning hard, I struggle to place the emotion. Is that what this is? Worry she won’t want me anymore if she likes them?
Rosy steps back, offering Noah a smile before she squeezes my hand and I tug us over to the kitchen before I can get lost in my head any longer. It’s probably bullshit, anyway.
“Here you go. Pizza to go.” Bry bows, holding the package out towards her.
She giggles. It’s more of a cackle, really. But she takes it from his outstretched hands.
“You're too kind.” She plays along with his game, doing a weird sort of squat.
A hyena laugh echoes behind me from Max, “What the fuck was that, cupcake? Either Bry’s cooking has gone straight through you, or you really are an old lady in disguise, and we need to get you a walking aid.”
“I was curtseying. You wouldn’t know what that is, but it’s called etiquette,” she jests, sticking her tongue out at him over her shoulder.
I swipe my palm across my face, trying to hide my smirk, because I don’t think that was a curtsey, and I don’t have the balls to tell her.
I tug at her hand. “Come on. Need to get you to bed.”
Her attention snaps to me, and a furious heat rises high on her cheeks. I don’t hide my smirk that appears this time.
Is she imagining being in my bed? Or me in hers?
I’d love to have her spread out across my sheets, naked body bare for me, our scents mingling and saturating everything.
Noah clears his throat behind us, and I’m pulled from the dirty, perfect picture in my mind. Glancing up, I see Bry smiling as he looks between us, a brow raised.
My eyes roll, and I don’t bother to say anything. Shouldering my way past, I guide Rosy out and down the hallway to her front door.