Page 16 of The Perfect Heart

What the hell was going on? That hand on my knee was nothing, a friendly gesture as we found our way back to each other again, rekindling the closeness and friendship we’d once shared.

Except I had never had this reaction to Nash. He had been my best friend, not my crush, not someone I was attracted to or interested in. And as far as I knew, he’d felt the same way.

But that had been high school. Nash was a grown man now and an extremely attractive one at that. The warmth of his body pressed against mine, the hard muscle I felt beneath his clothing, was doing things to me I hadn’t ever imagined they would.

I swallowed and thought about moving away again, but instead, my hand began to trace the lines of muscle I felt under his sleeve, up and down, up and down until my hand curled around his bicep. Nash was still watching the movie as though none of this was happening. Or so I thought, but he gave my knee a squeeze and began mirroring my action, except he was running his fingers up and down my thigh.

It could have been a gesture to mirror mine, something he thought might bring comfort, something he wasn’t even entirely aware he was doing. Except he had never once done this before, even when we had snuggled on the couch together in high school, watching this exact movie. And never once had his touch felt like sparks. Never once had it stolen my breath. Never once had I been so hyper-aware of the way his fingers slid over my skin beneath the thin layer of fabric, their warmth, their width and breadth.

I swallowed again, my mouth gone entirely dry, and took a breath to say something, anything to break this spell. But Nash turned his head to look at me, his gaze suddenly locked with mine, and our faces were only inches apart, so close I could feel his breath as a tingle across my cheek, so close that I could have reached out and kissed him.

So easily.

Instead, I snapped my head forward, and he took his hand from my leg. I barely paid attention to the rest of the movie, too fuzzy from the questions still swirling in my head and the sensations still swirling in my stomach.

When the movie was over, I was quick to say goodnight, the gnawing feeling still making my stomach clench. And when he was gone, I leaned back against the door, breathing hard, trying to figure out why my skin felt like it was on fire where he had touched me and why I still felt dizzy when I thought about what had almost happened.

Chapter 8

Nash

I SAW THE GUY WITH the dark head of hair towering over the crowd and reached for a glass so that I was pouring the Jack as he sat down on a bar stool. Pouring the Coke, I slid it to him without a word but with a smirk tugging at one corner of my mouth.

He took a long drink and sighed, his shoulders falling with the outward rush of air.

“Damn, that’s what I needed. Fuck me.”

Chuckling, I picked up the towel I was using to dry the clean glasses before I placed them back onto the lower shelf. “No thanks. Not my type.”

“What, you don’t want some of this?” he asked, lifting his arms and flexing. It was impressive—we worked out together most mornings in the garage he had converted to a gym.

The gesture claimed the tipsy attention of a couple of women just down the bar, their eyes lingering before they bent their heads, giggling.

“Man, I have to look at that every morning. I don’t want to look at it any more than I have to. Why can’t you just keep your damn shirt on?” I chuckled, shaking my head and placing another spotless glass beside the others.

“I’m not going to cover this piece of art.” He winked and kissed his bicep, and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh please, Jonas. Keep it in your pants.”

The guy laughed, his eyes still sparkling with mischief as he took a long drink of his Jack and Coke. And didn’t stop until he’d drained the glass.

“Long trip back?” I asked, stepping forward for one of my servers to slip behind me, her hands full of expertly held beer steins.

Jonas rolled his eyes. “You could say that. Not only was my flight delayed, but I flew into Sea-Tac and barely missed Steven’s Pass closing because of the storm heading this way. It still took me three and a half hours to get back.”

“You want dinner?” I asked.

“Please. I haven’t eaten since the airport.”

I put in an order for Jonas’s favorite burger, extra pickles hold the onions, and poured him another Jack and Coke.

“Nash, one whiskey, neat, and one cider toddy.” Another server held up two fingers, and I nodded, already pulling the glasses out.

“Damn, it’s busy tonight.”

Jonas had turned in his seat to face the rest of the room, his gaze sweeping the tourists and locals alike, eating at the tables, clustered around one of the big TVs to watch a hockey game and others lounging around the far wall to throw darts.

His shoulders moved like he was going to turn around, but they jerked back, and I could just see his eyes widening. I wondered what had snagged his attention and craned my head as I popped the cork of the apple jack for the toddy, only to see Halle setting dishes down at a full table.