"I do care," he said. "The last thing I'd want to do is hurt you. I just freaked out at the thought of something happening to you."
The small kernel of anger that was still knotted in my chest began to unwind. The tension in my shoulders relaxed, no longer so on guard. The hopeful look on Nathan's face was my undoing.
He really did care about me.
I went over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head on his chest. His fingers threaded through my hair.
"I know you do," I said. "I think I was just sensitive because of what happened with my mom. It was too much to handle at the same time. It reminded me of all the times I was toldno, you can't do thiswhen I was growing up. I thought I'd finally outgrown that stage of my life and it frustrated me to think I was being shoved back into that position again."
"I'm sorry I made you feel that way." He leaned his cheek on the top of my head. "I'll try not to freak out about stuff."
"And I promise to be more understanding about it and not storm off in a huff. I promise that I'll try to talk it out with you and work on a compromise."
Nathan squeezed me tight. His warm arms around my waist were reassuring, comforting. I had someone to look out for me. Someone I could rely on to care about me. If that meant I had to put up with a little smothering, I could deal with it.
"You're really good at this forgiveness thing," he said.
"There's nothing to forgive," I said. "I get where you were coming from." I pulled back into his arms. "But I don't know if I can forgive you for showing up on my doorstep like this. If my parents had seen you they would have flipped the hell out."
"I was discreet."
"You better have been. Otherwise they're going to call the cops and start pounding on the door, wondering who that creeper was, sneaking into their daughter's apartment."
"So I'm back to being a creeper again?" he teased.
"If the shoe fits…"
Nathan chuckled, then went quiet. He stared into my eyes.
"I really do care about you," he said softly.
"I care about you, too."
Nathan tipped my face up to meet his. I leaned up on my tiptoes. He dripped his head. I closed my eyes. He placed a kiss on my lips. I opened my mouth to deepen the kiss.
Nathan pulled back, I opened my eyes, confused.
"What?" I asked.
"Is that chocolate ice cream I taste?" he asked.
"Vanilla with chocolate syrup," I corrected. "I was sort of having a mope-fest before you showed up."
A slow, lazy smile crossed his face. "You've got chocolate syrup?"
"Yes…" I said. "What's with that tone?"
"Nothing," he said easily. "I can just think of a dozen uses for chocolate syrup that have nothing to do with ice cream."
A tingling feeling shot through me, going straight to my core. "Are we talking about sexy things?"
"Do you even need to ask?" he drawled, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"Give me a second." I left the circle of his arms and went to get the bottle of syrup, excitement beginning to pound in my chest. Another experience I never thought I'd have. Food sex? That was up there with public sex on my list of naughty fantasies.
Hm. Public sex. I wondered… Was Nathan into that?
But that was a question for another time.
