ALLIE
I’m just steppingout of the shower when I hear a knock on the door. Quickly toweling off my wet hair, I throw on a pair of boy shorts and a Rancid T-shirt.
When I get to the front door, I look through the peephole. Gray eyes stare back at me. I unlock the deadbolt and the bottom lock before opening the door to a grumpy-looking Nate. Or maybe that’s just his normal face. It’s hard to tell with him.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I drawl.
He looks me up and down, his hard eyes landing on my bare thighs before he quickly looks back up and sighs. “Allie, we’ve talked about you answering your door naked.”
“I’m not naked.” All the important parts are covered. Including the areas where Ashton left marks, thankfully. I definitely don’t want to have that conversation.
Nate mumbles something under his breath, but I can’t make it out.
“What was that?”
“You’re never gonna listen.”
“Nope. It’s a good thing I don’t have to listen to you.” I pretend to look at my nails. “Or anyone.”
Nate shakes his head and gestures to the entryway. “Can I come in?”
I open the door wider. Nate has been to my house maybe a hundred times, and he still waits to be invited in every single time.
“Could you put some clothes on?” he asks as he makes his way into the living room.
“I have clothes on.”
“You are such a brat,” he mutters, to which I smile and head into the kitchen.
“Coffee?” I call out.
“No, thank you. I’ve had four espressos already.”
It’s a pretty well-known fact that Nate Caldwell doesn’t drink or do drugs of any kind, except for caffeine. He drinks coffee like it’s water. I’m pretty sure the man doesn’t sleep.
I pour myself a cup, splashing some vanilla creamer in. I love watching the white swirl melt into the dark brown liquid. I add a scoop of chocolate powder and stir it before taking a sip, the warmth sliding down my throat.
“How was last night?” Nate asks as I walk around the kitchen island. I’m not sure if he’s referring to my birthday or Declan’s party. He knows it was my birthday, but like Emory, he also knows not to bring it up.
“Fine,” I say noncommittally.
“Just fine?” He arches a brow. I swear to God if Emory told him about me and Ashton, she’s going to get an earful. Not that he doesn’t already know something is up after our confrontation in his gym.
I step into the living room, setting my coffee mug on the table by the couch. “Why don’t you just say whatever it is you came here to say and stop playing games, Nathan?”
Nate clenches his jaw, his boot tapping on the hardwood floor. He hates being called by his full name almost as much as I do.
“Okay,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. “What’s going on with you and Ashton?”
“Why? Jealous?” I tease.
Nate uncrosses his arms and drops his head into his hands. “Why do I even bother?”
“Because you love me,” I say, plopping down next to Nate and taking another large gulp of my coffee.
“I thought Emory gave me headaches.”
“Do you have a point you’re going to arrive at any time soon or…”
