I noticed a book sitting on Nate’s nightstand. I didn’t recognize the title but I could tell it was science fiction. “So you do read for pleasure?”
He stood in the open doorway, leaning against the jamb with his hands in his pockets. He was clean-shaven but his hair was mussed up sexily. “It helps me sleep.”
“This is a nice room. If you want, I can help you fill the place out tomorrow. So it feels more like home.”
“Things don’t make a place feel like home. People do.” He prowled toward me. I moved backward toward the bed. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
I nodded. We were mere inches apart. When I looked down out of shyness, he used his index finger to tip my chin up, bringing my gaze up to his. My hands seemed to move of their own accord into his hair. As I ran my fingers through it, I kept my eyes locked on his. He studied me. His expression was warm, like he was cherishing me. “You don’t know how beautiful you are, do you?”
The question wasn’t meant to be answered. His skilled hands found their way to the top buttons of my sweater. My chest rose and fell dramatically but I forced myself to be brave. After all, I had basically stripped for him twice before, not to mention I begged him to take me while I was drunk. That night, though, in his room, there was a sense that what we were doing held a much bigger promise than before because our intentions were real, honest, and sober.
“Are you as nervous as I am?” I whispered.
“Yes,” he said.
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
He bent his head and kissed me, letting his tongue tease mine for just a moment. “I have steady hands,” he said near my ear. And it was true. I was feeling doctor hands, precise, warm, and deliberate, moving up my back. He traced an index finger down my spine to the top of my jeans as his kisses became more urgent. When we pressed our bodies together, I could feel him hard against me. I pulled away, sat down on the bed, and looked at my hands.
He stood still over me and when I finally looked up I could see that his eyes were searching mine for answers. “Are you okay, Ava?” His green eyes were still bright in the fading light. I wanted him and I knew he wanted me, but I wanted what I had felt before—the playfulness before things had become serious and full of meaning.
A few awkward moments passed and then I laughed. He broke into a grin. “I thought you were upset. Geez. Why in the world are you laughing?”
“I was thinking about how adorable you were when we were in the hot spring and I was making up that ridiculous story.”
I could tell my abrupt mood change threw him for a loop but he tried to recover. “Is that what you were thinking about just now when I was kissing you?”
He took a seat next to me on the bed and I took his hand in mine. “Well, I was just thinking how much fun I have around you and how things have been so serious since you came back.”
As though he could read my mind and knew where I was going with the conversation, he stood up and pulled me toward the kitchen. “Come on, Ava, I want to feed you.”
He poured us generous glasses of wine, and within half an hour we were joking playfully and easily, moving around the kitchen casually as he prepared dinner, warming up dishes he had made ahead of time. He put on music I wasn’t familiar with but loved. I had only really listened to country music because that’s what Jake liked. “Who is this?”
“It’s Ray LaMontagne.”
“I like it.”
“Me too. Ta-da!” He handed me a plate of lasagna over the counter. I took it and sat down at the breakfast bar.
“Tell me what you think.”
I took a bite. “It’s really good, Nate.” I lifted one eyebrow. “It tastes very similar to Bea’s lasagna.”
He grinned. “Well, she offered.”
“You said you were gonna make me dinner, cheater.”
He grinned as he sat next to me at the bar with his own plate. “How’s the wine?”
“Excellent.”
“The wine is good, the food is good, and the music is good. What’s missing?”
“Dessert?” I offered.
“Chocolate?” He took a sip of his wine, watching me over the glass mischievously as I shook my head back and forth very slowly. Leaning toward me, he whispered, “Let me have your mouth, Ava.”
I leaned in and let him kiss me. He pulled me closer, almost off my seat, and that was it—that was all it took.
All bets were off. I finally surrendered.
He reached down and pulled me up from the chair and then backed me toward the hallway, his lips never leaving mine.
CHAPTER 18
Murmur
Nathanial