“I might call for pizza,” I mumble, and stagger in the direction of the corner. “I can picture that an even better time.” I mourn the loss of my two-hundred-dollar book shopping spree. Ah, who am I fooling, I’ll be going on the book spree anyway.
Julia and I stumble home, arms linked; the city’s streets are alive with people and food cart smells and the sounds of traffic. When we fall out of the elevator on our floor, Nate is leaning his shoulder against my door.
“Hey, Nate,” Julia waves drunkenly. “Thanks for coming. Your mission tonight, if you choose to accept, is to be better than pizza.” At first, I don’t understand, why did she call Nate over if she was thinking about calling the blond business suit with the red tie? Then she winks at me and shove me at him.
That’s when it hits me, as I tumble into Nate’s chest.
She called him forme.
Chapter 5
Nate has a bouquet of pale pink peonies in his hand. Well, he did. Now they’re squashed up between us, jabbing us both in the chest as his hands grip to hold up my shoulders. I am way too intoxicated for this.
He nods to Julia and looks down at me. “Hey, Jane.”
“Hey, Nate. Funny seeing you here,” I slur stupidly.
We stand by the apartment door, staring awkwardly at each other. “Can I…can I come in?”
“In there?” I ask, pressing the tip of my finger to my front door. I try to remember how I left the place. Are there dishes piled up in the sink, dirty laundry scattered all over the floor? I shift my weight off him and sway against the doorframe.
“Oh, and here. I, um, I got you flowers.” He shoves the bouquet at me.
“Thank you,” I say as I open the door and breathe in the scent of the pretty flowers.
I have absolutely no idea what to do with Nate after I close my front door. I don’t even know why he’s here, but I shuffle through my living room and into the kitchen in search of more liquid courage. “Do you want a drink?” I call out so loud I startle myself.
“A drink sounds great,” he says walking into the kitchen right behind me.
I grab two glasses out of my cabinet and grab a bottle of red out of my wine rack. Nate opens a drawer and pulls out my corkscrew, handing it to me. Is it weird that he remembered where I keep my corkscrew? As I ponder this, I drink the entire glass of wine I just poured for myself.
Nate holds his and gawks at me. “Thirsty?” he asks, chuckling.
I scoff, “Positively parched, Mr. Cross.”
He smiles really wide, and I wonder if tonight I’ll end up having sloppy drunk sex with him. I wobble slightly and pretend I need to use the bathroom and run.
I lock myself inside and peek at myself in the mirror. Strangely enough, I think I look nice. Those delicious shots at the bar have made me look exponentially hotter than normal. My make-up is all where it’s supposed to be, even my hair seems to be having a good night. I try to breathe into my hand to see if my breath is okay, but decide to brush my teeth because my mouth smells too much like the palm of my hand.
I empty my bladder and tear through my drawers for a feminine wet wipe.Just in case. When I’m done, my crotch smells like a field of wild lavender. I’m not sure whether I did it to keep Nate away from my nether regions or to get him to frolic in my meadows. Either way, I’m getting myself sick to my stomach overthinking it.
On the way back into the living room, I grab another bottle of wine and carry it with me.
“Hey,” he says, standing up from the couch. He points to my table with a bashful smile. “I put the flowers in something for you.”
He put them in a red solo cup. Which makes me giggle. I pour myself another glass of wine and drink it way too quickly, again. Can I even picture myself having sex with Nate? Once upon a time, I really, really pictured it, likea lot. I take a deep breath. I bet Julia’s right, Dex probably didn’t think about me when he was—ugh, I can’t even say the word—with Pippa. Okay, I have to stop thinking about that man when I have this man in front of me, right now.
“You know, the first time you ever brought Julia flowers, I secretly wished they were for me.”
“Yeah?” he says, walking over to me with smoldering eyes. “And do you know, seeing you at work every day, I wonder what could have happened between us, if I stayed at the baseball game and asked to buy you a drink?”
Would it have been a drink, a text, a fuck, and leave? “What do you think would have happened?” My stomach does a small quick flip, and I nervously sip at the last dregs of my wine.
He lifts a hand and takes the empty glass out of my grip and leans forward, setting it on my coffee table. “I think we’re both about to find out.” His words are breathy, and one edge of his mouth pulls up in a sexy kind of smile.
“We are?” I whisper. I’m not sure if I want to run or stay.
“Come here,” he says and grabs me by the shirt and yanks my body to his. I don’t have time to think about it, weigh the pros and cons of this, because instantly, his lips collide with mine and we’re kissing.
