I’m too busy working his shirt up over his head to respond. When it’s off, I suck in a breath at the sight of his chest.
It’s gorgeous. He’s gorgeous. There’s a scar I don’t remember on the right side of his stomach. His abs are defined, his skin is tanned and warm. His hip bones form a perfect V, framing the strip of hair that leads down into his jeans.
“Holy frack,” I murmur, tracing my fingertips against the scar on his stomach.
He chuckles against the skin of my collarbone. “What, never seen a man’s chest before?”
“Not this close up,” I admit foolishly.
I realize my mistake an instant after the words leave my mouth. Nate goes totally still. His face lifts from my chest to look into mine and I see something creep into his eyes that I don’t like — partly because it replaces the lust there, but mainly because it looks an awful lot like apprehension.
“Just kidding,” I lie, hands gripping his shoulders to keep him close. “Where were we?”
I’m no match for his strength — when he pulls back, my hands drop uselessly to the duvet.
“West.”
I swallow. “Yeah?”
His eyes are steady on mine, but I can’t discern any of the emotions in them. His expression is unreadable. “Are you… Christ.” He exhales sharply. “Are you a virgin?”
“No,” I snap instantly, not above fibbing when I’m so close to finally getting what I want. (What I want being Nate naked on top of me.)
He stares at me, seeing straight through me like always. Something like shock flares in his eyes.
“You are.” His voice is staggered. “You’re a virgin.”
The way he says it, you’d think I’ve just revealed I’m a unicorn or a fire-breathing dragon. Some kind of mythical, nonexistent creature.
“Yeah, well. So what if I am?” My voice is just the teensiest bit defensive.
He blinks. “How is that possible? What about…” His voice darkens. “…Diego?”
A scream of frustration pops out. “Diego was never…” I trail off, not wanting to get into that whole story right now. Or ever. “Can’t we just forget I said anything and pick up where we left off?”
“No.”
I huff.
“West—”
“You’ve had your face between my boobs,” I bite out. “It’s Phoebe.”
His eyes flicker down to my exposed body for a second, as though he can’t stop himself. If I weren’t so angry, maybe I’d be embarrassed about sitting two inches from him wearing practically nothing. As it is, I gladly let him look. I hope the memory of me naked keeps him awake at night.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I haven’t seen in years. Not since before he joined the special forces.
“Why?”
“Why what? Use your words, Nathaniel.”
He looks away from me, jaw clenching. “Why would you throw something like that away on someone like me, when you’ve been waiting so long?”
My mouth gapes. I’ve never wanted to yell at him more than I do in that moment.
Because I’ve been waiting for you, idiot! Because it won’t be throwing it away. It will be sharing something incredible with the man I love. The man I’ve always loved.
He continues before I can say anything, not able to meet my eyes. “Why would you waste it on a night of meaningless sex?”
Meaningless sex.
Meaningless.
Sex.
All the breath goes out of me. The words I was about to say slither back down my throat into my stomach, where acids quickly destroy them. I feel nauseous. Physically ill. Worst of all, there are tears pricking at my eyes.
Damn him.
This thing between us isn’t meaningless, and he knows it. He knows, and he’s running because he can’t handle it.
“I always thought you were brave, Nathaniel Knox, but you know what?” I ask, words scathing. “You’re a coward.”