“What do you enjoy more, the furniture or the jewelry?”
“It depends. What I like most are the backstories that come with the items.”
“That’s the romantic in you.”
The waitress came over to our table, pen already poised. “Ready to order?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll have coffee and a cranberry muffin.”
“I’ll have decaf and one of those brownies.” Nate gave her a quick smile, keeping his concentration on me.
“Decaf?” I must’ve made a face, as Nate chuckled.
“I have trouble sleeping. Drinking coffee this late would wreck me.”
“Is that why you come to the group? To figure out why you can’t sleep?”
Before he could answer, the waitress brought our coffees and snacks and slapped the check down. “No rush, boys. Take your time.” She left, and I watched her sit heavily on a stool at the counter and stretch out her legs.
Focusing on the stained linoleum table instead of me, Nate tightened his grip on the water glass he hadn’t let go of since we sat down. “I thought you wanted to talk about last week. I was stupid and wrong. There’s no excuse for the way I treated you. It’s been years since I spent the night with someone, and I should’ve realized you weren’t like the others. Like a one-off.”
There were facts he wasn’t disclosing, I could tell, but we didn’t have a relationship where I had the right to push. Despite my internal bullshit meter sending off warning signals, I softened my harsh stance. Maybe I needed to do some explaining as well. It takes two to tango, and both of us were definitely doing the tongue tango.
“I don’t normally have sex right away. It took a lot for me to be with you so quickly. I haven’t been with many men.”
I felt like a high school kid fumbling his way. What made me think a man like Nate would understand? Rich, charming, and obviously the type who got what and whomever he wanted with a smile, Nate probably had more bed partners than I had takeout menus at home.
“I didn’t think you had been. And I mean that in a good way. You intrigued me because, well, dammit, you’re really sweet, and I don’t normally meet guys like you.”
A bit rattled by his unexpectedly honest words, I ducked my head and took a sip of coffee before answering. “This is why I don’t jump into bed with anyone. It’s too intimate. I can’t be naked with someone and then have him treat me like a stranger. It cheapens everything.”
“I don’t like having this between us.”
“Between us? There’s really nothing. No us.”
A frown settled on his lips. “What if I’d like there to be?”
Chaotic thoughts tumbled around in my mind. “I don’t know.” I’d made the mistake of falling in love with Jared without knowing who he was, and if I were being truthful, I didn’t know myself either. Time and tragedy had changed me, and though I might still be a work in progress, I knew who I wasn’t. I was not about to repeat the mistake of falling for a man I didn’t know.
“What don’t you know? This is me trying to get to know you. Our clothes are on, and we aren’t touching, and I’m still extremely attracted to you.” He bit his full lower lip. “That must count for something.”
Earnestness glowed in his eyes, but I hesitated. I hated not trusting myself. I hated that I clung to a past that should never have happened. I wanted to believe Nate meant his words, and I wrestled with myself, rationalizing that he didn’t need to beg me to be with him. He’d made it obvious he didn’t have a problem finding sex.
“What if I said I’d like to keep seeing you, but I don’t want to have sex. At least not yet.”
“So, in other words, a test. You want me to prove myself to you.”
“It’s not only you,” I said hastily. “I have to prove things to myself, one of them being that I can have a relationship that isn’t only about getting physical.” I was determined not to confuse sex with love. Not anymore. If there was going to be something between us, it would have to stand on its own.
His fingers drummed on the table, and instead of answering me, Nate ate his brownie and finished his coffee. His eyes never leaving mine, he wiped his mouth with the napkin and tossed it aside. From his body language, I predicted this wouldn’t end well, and I tried to memorize his features, knowing this would most likely be our last time together.
Nate wasn’t a man for twenty-four-hour coffee shops with greasy tables, cracked vinyl booths that hadn’t seen a change since the sixties, and bright, harsh lights. Nate was a man made for whispers in romantic corner booths, candlelit tables, and fine china.
“I haven’t been in a real relationship with anyone for three years, and even with Carson, I walked away pretty easily after my father died. I had no use for permanency anymore.”
Vulnerability shone in his face and caught me short. I didn’t expect that. Not from Nate Sherman; the man reeked of power and sensuality. It could all be a farce to coax me into bed again, but I doubted that. Nate could have any man he wanted, and it sounded like he did. He just wasn’t going to have me. Not yet, at least. Until I could trust him to be interested in what I had going on between my ears as much as between my legs, he’d have to be satisfied with kisses and hand-holding.
“That means for three years you’ve been screwing around. Why are you willing to change so quickly? It can’t only be because of last week.”
