Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
NATHAN
Ican still feel the ghost of her lips across my own as I sit down in one of the chairs, remaining outside once Thea retired for the night.
Releasing a heavy sigh, I lay my head in my hands.
I don’t like anything about our current situation.
I hate that I can’t have her fully. I hate that she agreed to help with the gala.
I hate that I asked her to. I hate that it’s taken me so many years to get my head out of my ass and face our past. If I had done things differently…
where would we be now? Maybe it would’ve changed the course of our future and the trauma we’ve both been through.
Maybe we would’ve healed faster from losing Miles.
Fuck. My head is spinning and I wasn’t even the one drinking tonight.
“You look like someone pissed in your cereal,” a gruff voice sounds from around the side of my house.
I release a harsh laugh. “Yeah, well I feel like I ate it, too.”
Fletcher takes a seat next to me, pulling a flask from his pocket and handing it to me.
This is his way of having a heart to heart without feeling emasculated by it.
I’ve only ever seen him soften with one person and she’s the same person who warms his bed at night.
Taking it, I open the top and take a swig of the whiskey, which burns a pleasant path down my throat before settling with a warmth inside of my stomach. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “Your girl called Dylan, asked her to come over.”
My girl. How I wish that was true. “She isn’t my girl. But naturally, you couldn’t let her go anywhere by herself, so here you are.”
One side of his mouth tilts up. “Here I am. And she’s definitely your girl, she just doesn’t know it yet.”
“Being possessive may be your MO, and Dylan might get off on it, but some of us actually thrive on being normal.” I take another drink as I roll my eyes, and he chuckles.
“Don’t knock it until you try it. But I’m actually not here to talk about them…” Raising my eyebrow I wait for him to continue. “This job, does it have anything to do with that girl sitting in the living room?”
I nod. “Her name is Claire. Had you come with me when we first got the call, you would’ve met her.”
He glares at me before he says, “I was a little preoccupied. Besides, I don’t owe them anymore. Why is she here?”
“For someone who doesn’t owe them anything, you’re awfully curious. If you miss working with me, you can just say.” I grin at him. Getting under his skin is one of my favorite pastimes. His throat makes a sound that resembles a growl, forcing a laugh from me. “Alright, grandpa, I’ll bite.”
I rehash all of the information that I’ve learned since meeting Claire, up until the conversation we had on the phone tonight about the gala, making sure to recount every detail.
His face gave away nothing until I mentioned the car accident and Miles’ death, but even then, it was nothing more than a flinch.
He’s aware of what happened, but being that he never knew him he obviously isn’t as impacted.
However, he’s empathetic to the loss from the standpoint he lost his own sister, Riley, a number of years ago to the network.
In that sense, I’ve been able to be open minded to why he’s so obsessed with Dylan and her safety.
Events like that would alter anyone’s brain chemistry, especially not knowing if the person you love is dead or alive.
When I’m done laying it out on the imaginary table in front of us, he remains silent, beckoning for the flask, which I hand to him before he takes a long pull. It takes several more long minutes before he says anything. And when he does speak, I’m mildly surprised. “I’m in.”
“Are you sure?”
He dips his chin. “Someone once told me that we’ve been together since the start and we’ll be together at the end, too.”
“He sounds like a good friend, what’s his name?”
“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that right?” He chuffs, and at times like these he really does remind me of an old man even though he’s only a few years older than me.
“Don’t make it so easy, then.” I lean back in my chair, stretching my legs.
He mimics my movement. “The reality is, I’m not going to let you go into this with your girl without backup.
You didn’t let me down when I went after Dylan, even knowing there was an elevated risk.
There’s a very real risk for Thea where this is concerned and even more so for Claire.
You’ve taken responsibility for her and I’m not going to let you do it on your own.
Dylan definitely won’t stand for Thea doing it on her own, either.
Hence the other reason I’m here wanting in. ”
I shake my head immediately. “Dylan’s been through enough. She doesn’t need to be close to this.” It might not be my place to say that, but I know Fletcher is likely thinking the same thing.
He bobs his head in agreement. “So I’ve told her, and she won’t be.
She’s able to acknowledge that she’s still not, and likely never will be, fully healed on a mental and emotional level.
Which is a good thing, because I’m not above tying her up, locking the door, and throwing away the key.
But it doesn’t mean she’s going to sit still and let Thea take this on by herself.
She just wants to be there to support her from afar.
She has a lot of guilt for not being there for her when she gave birth to Hallie and I think she’s doing what she can to make up for that still. ”
I haven’t known Dylan long, but she’s the type to put others’ needs above hers, regardless of the circumstances.
So I’m happy to hear that she’s being smart about this and knows her limits.
I understand her guilt, though. It’s the same kind of guilt I’ve carried with me all these years for doing the same thing to Thea.
By vanishing, by not being there to hold her after Miles died.
I don’t know what else to say, so I say the only thing that comes to mind. “I guess I have a phone call to make.”
The next morning, I walk into the living room fully expecting to see Thea on the couch drinking her coffee, but instead I’m met by silence.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I note the time to be eight-fifty.
I quickly check outside to see if she’s sitting on the porch, but it’s empty.
I check the driveway to see if my car is still there, and it is.
Shit, she’s supposed to be awake by now; her divorce trial is scheduled for nine.
Walking quickly down the hallway I knock on her door before I open it.
She’s still buried beneath her blankets, snoring lightly.
I glance at the clock on her nightstand and note it’s now 8:53.
Approaching her bedside, I sit down and run my hand over her face. “Thea, you need to wake up. The trial starts in seven minutes.” I don’t bother muting my voice, a sense of urgency to it because I don’t need this held over her head.
She stirs, opening her eyes as she processes what I said. “Trial…” she mumbles, still half asleep. The clock has ticked by another minute.
Sighing, I do the only thing I can think of and yank her covers down, immediately regretting it.
She’s in nothing but panties, her hands rushing to grab the T-shirt thrown haphazardly on the bed next to her as she sits up.
I adjust how I’m sitting, trying to hide my rising erection.
“Sorry, sugar. But you have minutes until the trial starts. You need to get up like, thirty minutes ago.”
The frustration on her face changes to panic and she leaps out of bed to throw on more appropriate clothes. “I forgot to set my alarm! I shouldn’t have drank last night.” Her movements are frantic and I want to tell her I told her so, but she glares at me in warning.
“You get dressed, I’ll pull it up on your laptop. What’s your password?” I stand up and grab her computer where it sits on her desk.
She offers me a small nod. “HallieJane24. The h and J are capitalized.” As I walk out of her room, I type in her password and instantly a reminder pops up on Zoom for the trial, making it easy for me to navigate.
She has two minutes now. I don’t hit join yet because I don’t feel like it’s my place, and she specifically didn’t want them to see me, so I walk to the coffee maker and get working on making a pot.
Thirty seconds later she comes barreling down the hallway, tossing her hair up into a ponytail on her head, dressed in a white tank top with a blue blazer over the top of it. She’s paired it with a gold necklace.
When my eyes roam down her body I choke back a laugh which earns me another glare. “Not a word, Adams. Not…a…word.”
I can’t take her seriously. Not when she’s business up top, and from the waist down she is wearing a pair of pajama bottoms with pandas on them.
And on her feet, she’s wearing mismatched socks.
I hold my hands up in surrender, but I can’t stop smiling.
“I wasn’t going to say anything. I just want to soak in this fashion statement. ”
The clock turns to nine and she huffs as she tugs the blazer tighter around her.
“I was in a rush! It’s not like they’re going to be able to see me from the waist down anyway.
I barely had time to wipe yesterday’s makeup off.
I had choices to make.” I bite my lip, trying not to laugh again as she hits the join button and figures pop up on her screen.
She glances over her shoulder to make sure the camera is angled away from me as I stand in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to finish.
I offer her a mouthed good luck before she focuses her full attention on the screen, and the proceedings start.
The judge starts to speak, talking about finalizing the settlement between Lucas and Thea by starting with the division of assets. “Have both parties reviewed and agreed to the terms?”