Nineteen
Nate
Becca trembles against me as I rock back on my hands, unable to stay upright. My muscles are weak with satisfaction, my heart filled to bursting. I still can’t believe this is happening.
God, this is all I want, her and me, for the rest of my life. I can’t imagine ever wanting anything more.
I love you, I want to tell her, but nothing kills a new relationship faster than premature declarations. If she’s willing to give me a chance at all, she deserves to be given the space to decide how she feels about me, to try this out and see if she can get there. I’m so damn lucky that she’s here with me—she had Prince Charming kissing her tonight, and she wantsme—that I’m not going to take any chances.
Becca rests her head on my shoulder, her legs still locked around my waist. “Oh my god,” she says, and I grin.
“Right?” I ask, and we both laugh, like we’re lost in this incredible haze of just being together.
“This was definitely a good idea,” she says as I run my hand up her back, holding her against me. “I am a badass, after all.”
“Did you doubt it?”
“I did! I don’t feel like one, except when I’m with you.”
“Well, you are,” I say. “Anyone can see it.”
She looks up at me, and there’s this sweetness to her expression, and I wonder if this is the first time I’ve seen her purely happy, without the nerves and the worries and the pressure.
At that moment, there’s a knock on my door.
“Shit,” I whisper, and Becca startles, rolling off my lap like we’re teenagers who’ve gotten caught. My heart is beating like that’s exactly what’s happening, only oh my god we are fuckingadultsand there areconsequencesto getting caught here like this.
I move to the door and look through the peephole while she searches for her clothes. “It’s Olivia,” I whisper.
Becca looks like she’s about to have a heart attack.
Olivia knocks on my door again. “Nate?” she calls.
Fuck.
I pick up Becca’s panties and toss them to her, then grab my boxers and pull them on. “Hang on!” I yell to Olivia, then whisper to Becca, “Go in the bathroom and turn on the shower.”
Becca looks confused. “Turn on the—”
“Trust me,” I say, doing one last sweep of the room for articles of clothing that are not mine while I haul on my jeans.
I run a hand through my hair.The elastic band fell out entirely at some point, but it fits with my story. I hear the shower start. I open the door without putting on my shirt. “Olivia,” I say. “What do you need? I was just about to jump in the shower.”
Olivia’s face is flushed, and she seems unsteady. “No, you’re not,” she says. “You have to come down to the bar. You’re missing everything. Levi is so happy it’s ridiculous.”
I resist the urge to step out into the hallway to talk to her and shut the door behind me.Thatwouldn’t fit with the story. “What’s he so happy about?”
“You!” she says. “I mean, everyone, I guess. He gave Darlene a bonus just for breathing. But oh my god, he thinks that date tonight went so well, and with the footage you got the other day, you’re killing it, big time.”
I really just want Olivia to shut up and go away, but something about what she’s saying doesn’t add up. “What do you mean the date went well? I thought he wanted Becca to talk about her husband, but she didn’t, did she?”
Olivia waves a hand and the motion nearly knocks her over. She leans against the door frame. “No, but who cares? You’d already gotten her to admit what a douchebag her husband was, so they don’t need her to say it in an interview.They’ll just layer it over other crap, you know?”
My stomach sinks.
I . . . what? “When did I . . .”
She slaps me on the arm. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had that! Anyway, Levi is ready to give you a big, fat bonus, so get your ass downstairs to the bar with the rest of us.”
