Chapter 18
That night, I have a sex dream about Brody. Only when the act is nearly over, it’s Nate on top of me. He stares into my eyes as he thrusts, and the hand he isn’t using to brace himself is rubbing tight circles between my legs, bringing me closer to the edge.
Despite the discovery, I don’t end things. Can’t end them.
Then again, I’m not sure I try.
I wake up from my dream hot and bothered, especially grateful to find the room empty.
Nate’s running shoes are tossed haphazardly next to the couch, as if he’s already gone and returned from his run.
I rub sleep from my eyes and listen for signs of life.
The shower is running in the background, so Nate’s here.
The water shuts off, and the sound dissipates.
A couple of minutes later, Nate emerges from the steamy bathroom with only a towel around his waist. His hair hangs loose and damp in soft waves around his shoulders.
My cheeks heat at the memory of last night’s dream and the sight in front of me.
Am I still dreaming? How do I make it stop? My brain cannot be doing this.
“Morning!” Nate greets, heading toward the couch. If he’s noticed my discomfort, he mentions nothing. Nor offers to take care of anything.
Not that I’d let him! It’s just solid confirmation that this is not a dream. It’s real life, and it is all wrong.
I look away from Nate. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Cool.” Nate turns, and my gaze jumps right back to him. “I’m going to knock out some writing, since our call time isn’t until this afternoon. If that’s okay with you? Got a great idea on my run. Mulled it over in the shower, and I think it could work.”
I nod, even though I’m now imagining Nate in the shower. “Yeah, strike while the iron’s hot.”
Strike while the iron’s hot? Who am I, and what happened to the Abigail Adams who wouldn’t drool over Nate because of his resemblance to Brody and one very confusing dream? It was a dream, not a prophecy. What’s the big deal?
“You should definitely get some writing done,” I amend in a rush.
Good, more normal. Civil. Not the least bit open to misinterpretation.
“Okaaay.” The way Nate stretches the word suggests he knows something’s up, but he doesn’t press it. He grabs a handful of clothes and retreats to the bathroom, reemerging a few minutes later fully dressed. With his laptop in tow, he heads out to the deck.
When the door closes, I fall back into the bed pillows. Whatever this is needs to stop.
After a day of cave spelunking, Jamie insists we “let off some steam” at karaoke night in one of the resort’s bars.
To be fair, it doesn’t take much convincing.
Back home, I always drag Corina to karaoke, though she is by far the better singer out of us.
There is something so liberating about people belting their favorite songs without a care in the world.
It’s something Sarah and I both loved about the experience.
We used to host our own karaoke nights as kids with a machine her dad bought her for her 10th birthday.
It was a gift we put to good use through high school (although, by then, our karaoke nights were fueled by a mix of energy drinks and cheap beer Sarah convinced local college guys to buy us).
Several crew members join us, but Dave opts out.
Corbin sips a Sprite while swiping his phone screen in a way that suggests he’s reading a book rather than scrolling social media.
Jamie sits across from Nate, asking him question after question while ignoring my attempts to jump into the conversation.
Every time Nate tries to help me join, she brings it back to just them.
I don’t want to talk to Jamie anyway. I want to enjoy tonight and relax before we’re back at it tomorrow.
“Are you going to sing, Corbin?” I ask, repeating the question once he looks up from his phone at the sound of his name.
He laughs when he hears it. “No way. I’m here for the ambiance. There’s a reason I work behind a camera for a living. I’ve got major stage fright.”
“I’m usually hiding behind a camera as well. More for social media and PR moments, though. This entire experience has taken a lot of getting used to.”
“I bet,” Corbin says with an understanding smile. “You’re killing it, though. First few days aside.”
I wince. “I’m improving.”
“You’re literally doing the thing,” he assures me. “Right, Jamie?”
I wish he didn’t bring Jamie into our conversation after she didn’t want me in hers. Thankfully, she’s barely listening, so she happily agrees with Corbin without batting an eye.
“See?” Corbin turns back to me. “We both think you’re killing it.”
That gets Jamie’s attention. “I mean, you’re doing the excursions…”
“Abigail has been amazing.” Nate rests a hand on my knee under the table. His touch is like fire, but still somehow comforting—even if it’s only to sell the charade that he’s Brody and we’re happy together. Then again, Jamie and Corbin are sitting across from us and can’t really see the effort.
I let his hand stay anyway.
“I forgot to ask her to take part in the show and still she did,” Nate continues. “She may have had a bit of a rough start, but that’s expected for anyone’s first time out. It’s the same for these new viewers we hope to bring in.”
“True that.” Corbin raises his drink, endorsing Nate’s comment.
Jamie pushes back her chair with surprising force. “Stage is free. I’m going to sing something.”
Once Jamie steps away, Corbin apologizes. “Sorry about Jamie. She can be a bit tense. Brody is her top priority, and it can be difficult not to feel like chopped liver next to him.” He glances at Nate, adding, “No offense, man.”
Nate shakes his head. “None taken.” There’s a pause. “I don’t mean to make anyone feel that way.”
Is this something Brody would say?
Corbin waves off the comment. “I imagine it’s a hazard of the job and being the face of the show.”
“Perhaps,” Nate says, “but I can make more of an effort to ensure everyone feels as important as they are. This show can’t happen without you all.”
Corbin nods and says something I completely miss as Jamie gets up on stage.
I watch in a strange state of confusion, awe, and irritation as she nails an Ariana Grande song encouraging a guy to break up with their girlfriend because she’s bored.
I’m not sure anyone else notices her attention is on Nate the entire time.
Nate certainly doesn’t. His attention isn’t on the song, its lyrics, or Jamie. He cheered her on when she walked on stage and when she finished, but Nate’s hand never left my knee as he talked to Corbin throughout the song.
Corbin didn’t miss a thing, though. “Quite the song choice,” he says as Jamie returns to her seat.
She shrugs. “It’s the only one from the list I could sing.”
“Right.” I set my phone down, take a sip of my frozen cocktail, and then place my hand over Nate’s under the table. Jamie knows what she’s doing, and so do I.
The four of us continue talking as karaoke continues and the rest of the crew members disperse. The evening is just starting to feel somewhat normal when my phone screen lights up. It’s an incoming message—from Brody.
I snatch my phone off the table, thankful my notifications only show sender info, and glance at the text. Brody is going home tomorrow. I don’t have time to process the good news because, while I was quick to grab the phone, I wasn’t quick enough.
“Are you two texting when you’re sitting right next to each other?” Jamie’s voice sounds teasing, but something flickers in her brown eyes.
My pulse quickens as I look at Nate. How are we going to explain this?
“Busted,” Nate says, pulling his phone from his pocket and shaking it in front of them as if he’d been texting under the table. Then he slips the phone back into his pocket. “I wanted to tell Abigail how beautiful she looks tonight.”
Warmth washes over me at the compliment, even though it’s a lie to save our cover story. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he says with a smile, his gaze lingering longer than usual.
My breath catches in my throat as last night’s sex dream comes back to me in full technicolor at the worst possible time. Which, of course, is ever.
“We should head out.” Corbin gives Jamie a meaningful look. It’s the exact one Sarah would give me when she picked up on something I hadn’t.
Jamie pauses but then scoots back from the table without making an argument for staying. “Yeah, I need to check tomorrow’s itinerary once more, anyway.”
They wave goodbye, and soon it’s just Nate and me.
“See how you scare everyone away?” Nate jokes once they’re both out of earshot. His hand slips from my lap and returns to his. “Lucky I’m still here.”
“I’m okay scaring Jamie off. She’s obsessed with you.”
“With Brody, maybe.” He catches the shift in my expression and quickly amends his statement. “Not like that. He’s starring in the show she’s working on, and she gives off some adrenaline junkie vibes. It’s natural she’d feel some sort of connection with him.”
The kiss goes unstated. Whether I am reading too much into whatever’s going on between Jamie and Brody, one thing is clear: it’s something I need to talk to the real Brody about. It’s unfair to expect Nate to field my concerns and produce answers he couldn’t possibly know.
I’m eager to change the conversation, but the only thing that comes to mind is relationships, and we can’t keep talking about mine. Then I remember what Nate said about Nina at the waterfall. “Speaking of romantic connections…”
Nate’s brows furrow, but his gray eyes sparkle with amusement. “Are we, though?”
“What happened between you and Nina?” I ask, expecting Nate to dodge the question. “Brody mentioned something at the hospital.”