My breath hitches, and as I take a challenging step towards Nathan, our chests almost touch. Warmth emanates from him.
My heart is rattling against my ribs. I feel like they’re about to break, but the pulse is addictive.
The air between us crackles with an unspoken challenge, Nathan’s eyes flickering with desire. As the seconds stretch out, every one of them feels like an eternity, the both of us daring each other to bridge that gap. To make the move. To cross that boundary.
“Fuck it.”
Arms snake around my waist, pulling me to a hard chest. I immediately respond as Nathan’s lips find my own.
God, am I going delirious? This doesn’t feel fucking real.
Our bodies fit so perfectly together. All I can do is moan into his mouth as he swipes his tongue across my bottom lip, demanding entrance.
I’m self-conscious that I smell like old wood and sweat, but it doesn’t seem to bother Nathan if I do.
Electricity rockets through my body. My fingertips. My Legs. Right up my spine. It’s making it almost impossible to feel okay with telling myself that in a few months, I won’t have this anymore. Mine and Nathan’s ships will sail away from each other.
Because we’re very much on different paths.
My breath is hard to catch, and the more I chase it, the more desperate I feel for this not to be the one and only time I’ll kiss Nathan Slater.
His large hands cup the back of my neck as our lips explore one another’s, fingers tugging at my hair, forcing a subconscious moan from me. The kiss is full of desperation, my hands clawing up his chest and gripping his hoodie between white fingers.
I can feel his boner against my stomach—hard and thick—making my head spin. I know I’m soaking through my underwear and jeans, and I want nothing more than for him to unbutton them and feel it for himself so that he knows what he does to me.
Nathan pulls back and looks at me like I’ve hung the moon. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to do that?”
“I thought you hated me.”
“I hated the way you made me want you, princess. But I never hatedyou.”
I scrunch my nose up. “Well, that’s a shame, Nate. Because I hated you.” I attempt to suppress my brewing giggle.
“You’re going to regret saying that one day,” he tells me, lips melting against mine again before Amber’s voice yelling for us above the basement causes us to pull away.
Then, I spend the next two hours of my shift having to pretend that Nathan Slater—the man sitting and waiting for me to finish my shift with his sister, pretending to be interested in her assignment just so he can stay at the bar—isn’t altering my brain chemistry beyond recognition.
20: Nathan
“How was she?” I ask Evan hopefully, and he deadpans me.
“She gave him a chocolate chip cookie ten minutes before bed and didn’t even make him brush his teeth,” he responds, nodding down to Leo, who’s fiddling with his building blocks on the floor of Evan’s kitchen. “That’s not the kind of example I want set for my child.”
Evan’s search for a nanny for Leo isn’t going well—not that I had high expectations.
I roll my eyes. “Ever heard of second chances?”
He shoots me a look, and I know I need to shut this conversation down. Evan and his finding a nanny fiasco isn’t my business as long as it doesn’t affect the way he plays, and in the past few games, he’s been on top form. That might have something to do with the endless amount of coffee he drinks, though.
If he’s happy with dropping nannies after one shift, so be it. As long as Leo is cared for.
The kid turns to me with a big, goofy smile, waving his toy elephant, trying to shove it into my hand,
“Sorry, buddy,” I tell him, ruffling up his hair. “I wish I could stay and play, but I’ve got to go. Duty calls.” I turn to Evan before I leave, pointing my finger in his direction. “Find a new nanny.”
He wiggles his phone in hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ve got a list of about ten applicants who responded to the ad you and Darrell set up.”
“Good. Call them. Today.” I exit Evan’s house before he has time to argue, heading for Emmanuel’s store.
