Chapter 19
The big log on the fire shifted, flames swirling around it as it crackled and split, sending a shower of sparks into the air above it. The Golden Girls was on, but Eloise hadn’t heard a word the characters had said. She was tucked up next to Nate, drowning in his kisses.
“This okay?” Nate asked, pulling her onto his lap.
Okay? It was fabulous. Magnificent. Deliciously good. He was the writer, but Eloise had a whole swag of effusively positive words he could choose from. A girl could get used to this. I want to get used to this. Eloise stiffened and groaned. She pulled away, dropping her head onto his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Nate shifted away, and Eloise wanted to grab him. Tell him to stay. She opened her mouth, but the words she needed to say wouldn’t come. Here she was—finally—all snuggled up with the guy she’d wanted forever and what was she supposed to do? Tell him that she’d been offered an amazing opportunity but it was on the other side of the world? And she was scared to take the leap? To bet on herself? Which had coincidentally been the cornerstone of her motivational speech to him just the other freaking day.
“Eloise?” Nate’s eyes searched hers, and damn, he was so handsome. He’d put himself out there. Time for her to do the same thing. Being an adult was so frustrating.
Slipping off his lap and drawing her knees up to her chest, Eloise ducked her head and sighed. “There’s something you don’t know.”
He stiffened next to her, and not in the way that occupied most of her dreams about him.
“This feels like too big a conversation to be having when”—Eloise waved her hands in the space between them—“whatever this is is just starting.”
The blanket fell to the floor as Nate stood. “One second.” He crossed the room and pulled out a stack of drawing supplies. When he returned to his spot next to her, Eloise couldn’t tamp down her smile. Not that she tried that hard. “Are you trying to art therapy me?”
The crooked, shy smile on his face was her new favourite. “Maybe.”
She accepted the sketchbook he offered her. “Do you remember the exchange program I applied for?”
Nate froze next to her.
Eloise bit her lip, staring down at her lap as she explained about reapplying and the emails she’d received earlier.
“Congratulations,” he said slowly, and she wanted to press him, push for answers to all the questions on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t.
Eloise caught the tail end of Nate’s frown before he smiled. But it wasn’t a real one, the edges were all shaky.
“So, you’re moving to America?”
“I don’t think so.”
Nate tilted his head and studied her face. It was like he went to say something and then stopped himself, his mouth closing and his eyebrows pulling low. She waited for the question that she knew was coming.
“You don’t want to go?”
She selected a deep red crayon and started to add more depth to the top half of her page. “No. I don’t know. It’s a lot.”
Nate stopped sketching and mimicked her stance from earlier, twisting his body towards her. The lights hit the top of his glasses, making his serious expression glow. “What’s holding you back?”
The gentle concern on his face made her fall for him even more. What if the big adventure she’d always craved was here? What if it was the guy with messy hair and a shy smile right in front of her? Who kissed her palm softly when she was hurt and stole her breath with deep, drugging ones in his kitchen?
Eloise pushed to her feet, her socked feet slipping slightly, arms flying out in front of her as she regained her balance. She blurted out the list of reasons that had been plaguing her, knowing Nate wouldn’t laugh at her worry about flying or not knowing how to finance it all. It all flew out before she could stop them. When she finished, she pulled at the bottom of her jumper. Her voice dropping to a whisper. “And what about whatever this is?”
“When do you have to decide by?” Nate asked.
The sharp pinch in her chest was unfair. Eloise tried not to be disappointed he hadn’t immediately said she should stay so they could explore this thing between them.
“Only a few days because of the visa application.” She swallowed and pretended the spotty pattern on her socks was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.
Nate met her in the middle of the room. “I know change is scary.”
“You still did it. When you were much younger than me.” Eloise groaned. Her eyes were tingling again, the telltale warning that tears weren’t far away. “What would you do?”
True to form, Nate’s response was gentle. His words soft and considered. Body language relaxed and … defeated? He was going to tell her that this was too much pressure. She was already too invested in their relationship or whatever it was. A couple of kisses and she’d basically just asked him to tell her to stay.
“I’d go.”
Even though Eloise expected it, her heart twisted painfully.
“Opportunities like this don’t come around often, and you might regret it in a few years.”
“But what about …”
“… all those things you said before?” Nate took her hand and led her to the kitchen where tomorrow’s loaves were ready to be mixed. Without speaking, he pushed his sleeves up and got some flour out of the big canister and covered a square of the bench with it. “Art therapy is your specialty. Bread therapy is mine.”
* * *
“Movement doesn’t always haveto be something big. It can be as simple as making bread,” Nate said. It was also a handy distraction, hopefully for the fact that he’d totally sidestepped Eloise’s questions about what was happening between them. He hadn’t missed the way her shoulders had slumped when he told her to go. No way was Nate going to be the asshole who told her to give up her dreams for him. But he’d needed time to figure out what he wanted to say. He placed his dough back onto the bench.
“Why aren’t you covered in flour like me?” Eloise asked when he’d finished washing his hands.
Nate flashed Eloise a grin. She was wearing more flour than her loaf. “I’ve had more practice.”
She rolled her shoulders, her long hair falling forward, hiding her face from him. She tossed her head, clearly trying to get it out of the way.
“Let me.” Nate stepped into her personal space, savouring the way she relaxed against him. Her hair was soft and silky, and he resisted the urge to wrap it around his wrist and tilt her head back towards his. He twisted the hair tie around a few times, his hands resting on her shoulders once it was done.
Sod it.
Facing their fears was something they could do together.
“What if we made a deal?”
Her loaf plopped onto the bench, and Eloise’s nose crinkled adorably as she considered what to do next.
“We both agree to say yes to adventure.”
The wrinkles on her nose deepened. “You really think I should go?”
“I don’t want you to have regrets.”
“What’s your adventure?” she asked.
Her. This. Whatever they could have before it had to end, but he couldn’t say that.
“I’ll finally agree to the contract for SMK’s adaptation with Jemima Jenkins. And while you’re away, I’ll run the sports programs and art classes at KPs. It’ll give me something to do while I figure out what’s next.”
She blinked up at him, her eyes far too watery for his liking.
Nate reached for Eloise’s flour-covered hand, needing skin-to-skin contact to ground them both for the next bit. “I don’t want you to look back and wish you’d done things differently. I’ve still got contacts in Arizona, too. We can find you somewhere to live, a car, all that kind of stuff.”
“But what about …”
He knew what she was asking.
“It’s kind of perfect if you think about it. This way, we can explore what’s between us without any pressure. Keep it light and fun. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here when you come back. I promise.”
“But what about what everyone will say?”
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and Nate ran his thumb across her mouth. Pretending they could go back to just being friends was pointless. Not when everything in his life reminded him of her. And if they kept it between the two of them, no one could really object, not even Charlie. That thought sent a wave of uneasiness through him, but his best mate would eventually understand.
“Maybe we refuse to define it. Just with the wedding and your trip. Whatever this is or becomes—it’s just ours. People can ask all they want, but we don’t have to answer their questions.”
“So, we take it one day at a time?”
One day or five days or two months was better than Nate had ever hoped for. When it came to Eloise, he’d take what he could get.
And then he’d let her go.