Chicago. My former home and the city where we met. Also the city Jack was pressuring me to return to. Two weeks in California had turned into three months in the blink of an eye. I understoodwhyhe wanted me home; he recognized the same thing I did—distance was slowly wedging itself between us. But he didn’t seem to recognize his pressure made it worse. His questions shoveled more guilt to the mountain sitting on my shoulders.
“How was your flight yesterday?”
“Smooth,” I answered.
The inside joke brought a smile to my lips. We met two years ago, on my way home from vacation. I didn’t know what possessed me to thank him for the smooth landing—maybe I was a little tipsy, maybe his warm smile. When he saw me waiting for a ride in front of the airport, he asked for my number. We haven’t looked back since.
“Smooth, huh?”
I could hear his smile. Was this all we had? Shared jokes, shared history? My feelings for Jack centered around having him there to take care of me, to be there when I needed someone. That had changed in the three months since I left Chicago. Some of it might’ve been on me, on my guilt. He was unhappy with the state of our relationship. It wasn’t like I could ask him for anything when I wasn’t holding up my end of it.
After a beat of silence, he added, “I miss you.”
I swallowed. “You’ll see me tomorrow.” I adjusted my bag on my shoulder, suddenly desperate to get off the phone. “Sorry to run, but I have that meeting soon.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I hope it goes well. Call me after?”
I opened my door, and my breath caught at the sight of Nathan staring at me from across the hall, his blue eyes gleaming in the sunlight that shone through my open door. His black suit, perfectly molded to his body, showcased his broad shoulders, his strength. And it covered the sleeve of tattoos he’d displayed yesterday. I hadn’t gotten a good enough look to see anything beyond pictures of nature, but hot damn, he wore it well.
Once again, no part of me was prepared for him.
“Brenna?” I could barely hear Jack’s voice over the sound of my pounding heart.
“Yeah…” I said to Jack, looking away from Nathan. His clean-shaven face didn’t damper his appeal.Dammit. “I’ll let you know.”
“I love you,” Jack said.
“You too,” I mumbled, watching Nathan descend the steps. Annoyingly, his retreating form looked just as good as his front. I blamed his tailor.
“I can feel you watching,” he called back to me, jarring me from my trance.
I’d lost my hint of southern twang years ago, but Nathan kept his. And it did a number on me. My face heated. I took a quiet breath, slowly in for a three-count before letting it out for four. Religion wasn’t a presence in my life, but I prayed my face would drain its red hue before Nathan saw it.
“You probably think everyone is looking at you.” I headed down the stairs behind him, hoping I wouldn’t trip again. “It doesn’t make it true.”
Nathan stood beside the front door, holding one arm out wide to the outside. I stopped on the last step, hesitating to walk through the door he held open.
“We’re going to the same place, Bren.”
“It’s Brenna,” I replied curtly.
Nathan smiled lazily. “Whatever you say, darlin’.”
The way the word rolled off his tongue in that accent, I nearly whimpered.
“No. You’re not calling me that.” Someone would need to scrape me off the floor if he did.
“What’s wrong with that?”
I shook my head. “Think of something else.”
He gestured to the open doorway, ignoring my request.
“I was thinking about grabbing something to eat,” I lied.
“You don’t want to be late. My dad’s lawyer is a real prick.”
I narrowed my eyes and gestured toward the kitchen, where I could hear Mrs. Callahan washing dishes.
