“Nat, about what I asked?—”
“Let’s do it,” she said. So breezily, as if she hadn’t completely changed the trajectory of both of our lives with those three words.
Not only that, but I hadn’t exaggerated last night when I’d told her what a sacrifice this would be. Until now, she hadn’t spent more than seventy-two hours in Havenbrook since she’d bailed on it eight years ago. And now she was willing to stay who knew how long for me.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Nat said, and I snapped my mouth shut. “You useddownpourfor the first time since we enacted it. Did you think I wouldn’t do whatever the hell you asked? That’s the whole point of an SOS.”
I blew out a long breath and shook my head, running a hand through my hair. I stood and strode toward her. “Well, Ihopedyou would, but this one singledownpouroutranks all of the past ones combined.”
She raised a brow. “Even when I called you to bail me out of jail and you not only had to drive two hours to get me but also had to put up the money—which I’m pretty sure I never paid you back?”
I gave a definitive nod. I’d spent that car ride vacillating between anger and worry—only the latter directed at her. The former, not so much, considering she’d gotten locked up for assault—as in, some asshole had gotten handsy with her in a bar in Bumfuck, Georgia, and she’d punched him square in the nose. Broke it, too. “Even then. And, yeah, you still owe me for that one.”
“Not after this, I don’t.” She shot me a smirk. “How about when I ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere at three in the mornin’ and called continually until you finally picked up?”
“Then, too.”
“And what about when?—”
I rested my hands on her shoulders, my thumbs brushing along her collarbone as I bent my knees to stare directly into her eyes. “More than all of them, Nat.”
She met my gaze for long moments, something passing between us until she cleared her throat. “We should set some ground rules.”
“Like what?”
“Like…how long are we doin’ this for?”
I blew out a sigh and ran a hand through my hair. “I don’t know how long this will last. How long can you stay?”
“I opened up my schedule, but I’ve got a shoot at the end of the month.”
“Okay. That shouldn’t be a problem—even if we haven’t had the final hearing, that doesn’t mean you can’t go. What about not havin’ any shoots on the calendar for the time being?”
“I’ll be all right. I’ve got some money set away.”
“Okay, that’s good. Any other ground rules we need to establish?”
“Um…yeah? What do we do about other people?”
“Well, they’ll definitely have to know. Sort of defeats the purpose if they don’t.”
She rolled her eyes. “I mean other people we’d like to date. Doesn’t make a whole lotta sense to go to all this trouble if we’re just gonna end up caught with our pants down.”
That ember of jealousy flickered again in my stomach, and I brushed it away. “I think it’s probably best if it’s just you and me till this is all done.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Are we really doin’ this?”
“Looks like…”
She reached out and rested her hands on my hips, her fingertips slipping just under the hem of my T-shirt and sending shock waves against my skin. We stood only inches apart, puffs of her sweet chocolate breath whispering across my jaw.
And though we’d certainly been closer than this at other points during our friendship, I could say, without a doubt, I’d never felt this invisible force between us. Drawing us closer.Making my eyes drop to her lips before snapping them up to connect with her gaze. Making me lean nearer to her, as if our mouths were tethered together, a string tightening with each breath.
Nat, for her part, didn’t shove me away. Didn’t laugh or punch me in the stomach, or any of the hundred other responses I’d assumed would happen. Instead, she stood there, her face tipped up toward mine, lips parted as if she felt it, too.
“Uncle Asher.” June’s voice sounded from outside, and I whipped my head toward the pathetic noise, just as she opened the screen door, stepped inside, and proceeded to throw up all over herself and the floor. Once she was done, she looked up at us, her hands on her stomach. “I don’t feel good.”
Nat and I stood frozen for probably longer than a mom or dad would have, but to be fair, I’d never encountered projectile vomit from a kid. And I could say with absolute certainty Nat hadn’t either.
