Chapter 20
KATE
Nate’s hand wrapped so tightly around his keys, his knuckles blanched white. His jacket hung half off one shoulder like he’d dragged it on without thinking, his blond hair mussed like he’d been raking his hands through it for hours.
His chest rose and fell too fast beneath the thin cotton of his T-shirt, his muscles flexing with every breath. As my gaze lifted from his hand, to his chest, to his face, I realized those blue eyes had a storm in them.
This wasn’t the controlled calm he usually wore but something messier and more fractured, almost frantic in its raw energy. It stuck out to me like a sore thumb because it matched exactly how I felt. This wasn’t the look of a man running out for bread or milk. That much, I knew for sure.
“Where are you going?” he asked, beating me to the punch.
The question scraped across my nerves, too direct and too loaded, and my grip tightened around the doorframe until the wood pressed into my palm.
“Where are you going?” I retorted, throwing it back at him.
Neither of us answered.
The longer the resulting silence between us stretched, the more it seemed to thicken and electrify, snapping until I could almost hear it bouncing off the walls. Nate’s eyes were steady on mine, but he was flustered for sure.
Worn down, like he’d been pacing around a cage he couldn’t escape. I knew the feeling because I’d been doing the same thing inside my apartment for the last hour.
Pacing, sitting, standing, and then pacing some more. Finally, I’d talked myself into doing it. Just putting it out there, but as I stood here now, I was trying to remember why I needed to leave. Why it mattered. I had somewhere important to be.
So why am I not moving? Why am I standing here, staring at the way the light is catching the golden strands of his hair?
Why am I noticing how his jaw is flexing like he’s grinding his teeth, holding back words he doesn’t trust himself to say?
Why, oh fucking why, with everything crashing down around us, am I still so painfully, stupidly attracted to him I can barely breathe?
It was crazy. This entire situation had been slowly killing me from the moment it’d started. The forced proximity. The constant friction. The way every argument between us felt like it burned hotter than it should, like we were fighting something neither of us wanted to name.
And now, it felt like the air between us had thinned to the point of suffocation. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I want to go back to hating each other,” I said suddenly.
The words tumbled out before I could stop them, my fingers curling harder around the doorframe. Something dark flickered across Nate’s expression before he took one slow step toward me.
My pulse spiked as his eyebrows arched slightly, his features morphing into a mask of skepticism and challenge. “I do too.”
“Because it’s too hard,” I said, my voice breathier with every word I said. “And we’re seeing other people.”
The muscle at the back of his jaw ticked. “Sure.”
The word was flat, but the tension behind it was audibly tight, like it might snap if I pushed any further. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, but we needed to clear this up. Now. Before it went any further. “We hate each other.”
He took another step closer, not close enough to touch me or even to invade my personal space, but enough that I felt the shift in the air. Almost like gravity had tilted and dragged him half an inch nearer without his permission.
“We do hate each other,” he echoed.
For some reason, it sounded wrong coming from him like that, his voice rougher and lower than his usual register. My heart slammed against my ribs so violently, it almost hurt, but I nodded.
“Yes,” I said. “Exactly. We fight constantly. We can’t agree on anything. You think I’m—”
“Impossible,” he cut in.
“You think you’re always right.”
“Only because I usually am.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” I snapped, heat flaring through me even as I tried to fight it, but with those eyes still locked on mine, I already knew I was fighting a losing battle.
His gaze was still stormy, but it almost looked like our argument was causing a wind within that was blowing away the storm and something else entirely was rolling in.
“You’re loud,” he said. “Maybe if you’d just listen sometimes, you’d realize that I’m usually right because I actually think before I speak.”
“Fuck, you really are insufferable.”
“And you’re stubborn.” His eyes darkened, something dangerous and electric sparking behind them. “You’re just arguing to argue right now, Kate.”
I scoffed. “You provoke me on purpose.”
“Maybe because you rise to it every single time.”
“Maybe because you’re impossible to ignore,” I snapped, the words slipping free before I could catch them.
A heavy, breathless quiet filled the space between us in the aftermath. His gaze dropped to my mouth, the movement quick but unmistakable. It sent a violent rush of heat through me that pooled low in my stomach and stole the air from my lungs.
We stood there, barely a few feet apart, both breathing too fast and, if I was being honest, probably both looking like we were clinging to the flimsiest thread of self-control either of us had left. At least, that was how I felt.
“You have a boyfriend,” he said, his voice rougher now.
“You have a girlfriend.”
The hallway suddenly felt smaller and tighter, like the walls were inching inward with every heartbeat. Finally, I shook my head at him, but when I spoke, it came out as more of a whispered plea than as a statement. “And we hate each other.”
His gaze locked onto mine again, the intensity in it flaring so bright, it almost burned. “Yeah. Of course. We hate each other.”
The lie hung between us for a moment, fragile and transparent. Because whatever the hell was going on between us these days, it sure as hell wasn’t hate anymore. And it shattered the second he moved.
One step was all it took. Just one deliberate step that erased the space between our doorways and dragged every tangled emotion into the spotlight with it. I barely registered the moment his hand curled around my wrist and he pulled me to him.
Then his mouth was on mine and my world didn’t just tilt—it exploded. The kiss was like a collision we’d been hurtling toward for weeks. His lips were hot and demanding, rough with urgency, like he was starving and furious about it.
He backed me into my apartment and pushed me up against the door, the force of his kisses melting my brain as he fitted himself against me, one hand bracing beside my head and the other sliding to my waist.
I gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss with a groan that vibrated straight through my chest. Every argument we’d ever had, every clipped word, and every sharp glance crashed together, bursting into delirium.
It was chaos, like fire licking through dry timber and laying waste to everything in its path.
My hands curled into his shirt of their own accord, yanking him even closer.
His body fit against mine like he’d slotted into a space that had been carved specifically for him.
The weight of him finally stepping into it was solid, warm, and impossibly right.
It unraveled me how strangely familiar it felt. Like I’d known him in a previous life, memorized every inch of him, and was intimately familiar with the shape of his mouth. He tilted his head, adjusting instinctively, as if he already knew exactly how to meet me.
His hand tightened at my waist, his fingers splaying across my back as he angled me closer. The movement sent a sharp rush of heat spiraling through me.
This felt like insanity and inevitability all wrapped into one. His breath washed over my lips when he shifted to press me harder into the door, a low, wrecked sound escaping him that splintered something fragile in my chest.
My fingers slid into his hair, gripping hard and holding him there, because stopping felt impossible. But then reality cracked through the haze.
Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Promises. Years of loyalty. History.
In that moment, the devastating truth dawned on me. Neither of us was free to be devouring each other like this. Acting on that knowledge even though my heart and body rebelled against the thought, I flattened my palms against his chest and he stilled instantly.
We broke away from each other at the same time, like we’d both reached the edge of the same cliff and recognized the drop in the same heartbeat. I gave him a light shove and he stepped back just as abruptly, his breathing ragged and his eyes wide, dark and furious, but probably not at me.
For a minute that might’ve been an eternity, we just stared at each other, stunned and wanting, the air between us still crackling with everything we hadn’t burned out of our systems yet. He dragged a hand through his hair, scoffing as he shook his head.
“How is it possible that you got this deep under my skin?” he asked hoarsely, not even looking directly at me anymore.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. There was no easy answer to that question. Anything I said right now would only make things worse.
His jaw tightened, that familiar wall slamming back into place behind his eyes piece by rigid piece. He stepped backward toward the hall, putting distance between us like it physically hurt to stay where he was.
His breath was still coming in choppy, uneven gulps as he reached for the door and yanked it open.
Light filtered in, cutting sharp lines across his face to catch the turmoil in his expression, but then he was gone, the door slamming behind him and the echo of his footsteps already fading down the corridor.
My legs gave out before I could stop them. I slid down the inside of the door, my back pressed against the steel he’d pinned me to seconds ago. My lungs were still refusing to drag in steady breaths of air. My lips were still tingling and my entire body still hummed like a live wire.
I fumbled for my phone with trembling hands, the screen lighting my lap in a pale glow. I stared down at the notifications I’d been ignoring.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. This was a disaster, and kissing Nate had only made it a million times worse.