Then as Nate attempted to sit up, the sheet fell away.
My throat felt like it had been cut.
Scrambling to get up, my hands fell against the solid wall of warm muscle of Nate’s chest. When he handcuffed me with his own hands, I could hear our panting echoing off the walls. I watched as Nate blinked and blinked again, trying to focus his eyes.
“Josie?”
“Yeah.” My word came out as weak and pathetic.
Flopping back against his pillows, I could feel Nate’s heart beat beneath his warm chest. He didn’t let go of me, though. With a sigh he asked, “What are you doing here?”
It felt like I was swallowing razor blades, my throat was that dry. I’d lost my words and coherent thought. Maybe some space would help. If I could just get off Nate. Off his bed. Off his burning body. Perhaps then I could string a sentence together. For a moment we just sat there in silence. Gaze locked. Unmoving.
“Josie?”
Nate had to prompt me out of my daydream. Damn it! Could I get any more pathetic? I was practically drooling over here. This wasn’t good. “Derek asked me to come check on you.”
I did it!
I got my shit together and was able to form actual real words. I deserved a fucking prize.
“Derek,” Nate sighed before his eyes fell closed and his grip on my wrists loosened.
As soon as I was free, I leapt to my feet, this time paying attention to where they landed. He looked terrible. Not all of him looked terrible. I mean, he still looked damn delicious. And as much as I wanted to appreciate his body, which was on display except for the skimpy pair of briefs covering what I knew was an impressive package, right now he needed me to get over my own raging hormones and make sure he was going to survive the day. Gone from his face were all traces of the cockiness I’d come to expect, replaced instead with pain and suffering. He had sweat beading on his brow and the dullness in his eyes made me feel bad for him. And that was something different for me. Very rarely did I play the sympathetic role. It wasn’t me. I always thought if I even tried it’d come off as fake. But here I was. Undoubtedly feeling sorry for him.
When I heard Matilda’s hysterical cackle echo through the house, I saw panic flicker across his face as he sat bolt upright. “It’s just Matilda. Don’t worry about it.”
“Matilda?”
“Yeah. She’s fine. Anyway, what do you need? Have you eaten today?” He didn’t answer. He didn’t need it. “I’ll go grab you something, then you can get some rest.”
I headed out the door. “Josie!”
Sticking my head back in the door, “Yeah?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Shut up! It’s nothing.” I waved away his concerns.
Minutes later, with Matilda trailing me, I headed back down the hall. The few minutes in Nate’s kitchen had done absolutely nothing to settle my frayed nerves. Not even the task of mopping up some split coffee and broken shards of glass helped. With the mess now dealt with, I turned to the simple task of pouring a glass of juice and smothering a piece of toast with butter and vegemite, the only thing an Aussie could stomach when they were sick, but kept being thrown off balance every time I looked down at Matilda on the floor at my feet. In exactly the same spot, I’d been on my knees. I prayed the images bouncing around in my brain would fuck off, but they wouldn’t. I had seriously no luck at all.
Trying to make light of the situation, I went back into Nate’s room. “Everyone decent in here?”
“No,” came the grumble of the reply.
“Are you ever decent?”
“Not around you.”
“Hey! Behave,” I scolded half-heartedly. “Now sit up and eat.”
“You’re bossy.”
“You have no idea.”
My words must have stunned him into silence. Instead, he quirked an eyebrow and took a bite of the hot buttery toast. I heard a groan, only I couldn’t be sure if it came from me or him.
Silently I perched on the end of the bed near his feet while he finished up. While silence enveloped us, I could hear Matilda rattling around. I knew my time with Nate was running out. Matilda’s patience wouldn’t hold much longer before she began causing havoc.
