I make quick work, using my body wash and loofah to wash away the stench from the night. When I finally step out of the shower, wrapping my body and hair in towels, and brush my teeth, I feel a little less like death warmed up. Something greasy is definitely in order.
Drawing my shoulders back, I take a deep breath, step out into the hallway, and slip into my bedroom. Drying off, I pull on a pair of knickers. They might not be much to look at, but they're comfortable. I don’t want to wear a bra after sleeping in one. Nathan has already had an eyeful. I go with my super-dry crop top and then pull on a t-shirt.
Brushing out my wet hair, I just pull it into a messy bun. And then attempt to get some of the remains of last night's makeup from my face.
And then I take a deep breath—time to face the music. Here we go.
I’m hit with the smell of coffee and toast when I open my door.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Nathan says around a mouthful of toast as I make my way into the kitchen. He nods to the place opposite him where he’s made me some too.
“Of course not.” I clear my throat, my voice a croaky mess from the lack of use. “Thanks,” I say, sitting in the seat opposite.
“I know it's not quite a fry-up, but I worked with what we had.”
I can’t help smiling at that. My fridge is a joke at this point. I need to start getting my shit together. Char clearly played Mum more than I gave her credit for.
Wrapping my fingers around the coffee cup, I bring it to my lips and take a sip, but can’t hide my reaction as I pull it away, scrunching up my nose.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, dropping his half-eaten toast on the plate. I smile at the amount of Nutella he has smothered over it.
“Sweet,” I reply.
He leans over the table. “Sorry, that's mine. This is yours,” he says, swapping our mugs.
Bringing it to my lips, I take a sip and let out a contented hum. Perfect.
And then my chest squeezes, that he knows how I take my coffee and yet my parents still manage to keep getting it wrong.
Ripping a corner of my toast, I pop it into my mouth.
“Listen about last night, I’m sorry...”
Nathan holds up his hand. “Stop, whatever you’re about to say, don’t. I had a good time, and I know you did, too, until your ex showed up.”
I nod and nibble on some more of my toast.
“Yeah, but it's not your job to take care of me.”
Feeling his stare, I raise my eyes and see his head tilted.
“No, it isn’t, but we went out together. I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”
We both eat our toast in silence and then I glance over at the sofa, remembering how he looked all cramped up on the small thing.
“You didn’t have to stay. I mean, you could have had Char’s old bed.”
Or mine.
My cheeks swarm with heat at the thought, and I stand too quickly and grip the table's edge.
ChapterTwenty-Three
NATHAN
I push the chair out, rush to her side, and take hold of her elbow.
“You okay?”
