Nathan’s plan had been to fake cool ambivalence when he saw her, but his body didn’t listen, flashing hot as his lungs abandoned any attempt to breathe. He saw a bit of gold fabric quickly obscured by the crowd. A second glimpse confirmed it was Rachel. Her dress was a literal work of art. It was made of small pieces of gold leather that looked like someone had poured tiny, molten scales over her body to form a low-cut evening gown. She’d styled her hair in a waist-length goddess braid, threaded with matching gold highlights. Her eyes were rimmed with smoky metallics, and her lips painted a soft nude that made them look plush and erotically bare.
Nathan caught the bartender’s eye and was about to order another drink when Joe handed the man a hundred-dollar bill and said, “Stop serving him.”
Nathan glared. “Seriously?”
“I’m not watching you get wasted tonight.” Joe waved his hand at the crowd. “Everyone in this room is rooting for you. Including her.”
Nathan’s eyes were drawn to Rachel again. “How do you do it?” he asked Joe.
“Do what?”
“How can you stand to be so close to someone you love, and not tell her.” He looked at Joe. “You don’t even mention Mia, and she lives ten minutes away.”
The champagne had slowed his brain, and the reality of what he’d implied hit him too late. Joe was too practical and honest to pine after one woman while married to someone else. Nathan was the piece of shit who always did the wrong thing.
“God.” Nathan rubbed hard at his eyes, trying to will himself sober. “I’m sorry. Please forget I said that.”
Joe blocked his view of the crowd and stared him down. “I know you love this woman, and it probably feels like you discovered that feeling—no one else could possibly have loved the way you do because if they had, nothing else would matter. But, Nate, being in love is selfish. It’s all about how good you feel, and what you want. Giving love is selfless. So no one cares if you want to say the words or not. What matters is whether that person needs to hear them.”
Nathan thought about his reaction to Rachel’s deal with Matt. He’d dismissed her reasons like a kid screaming, “So what,” over and over because he thought his love was more important. And now Joe was telling him the exact same thing she did: he may have heard her reasons, but he didn’t bother to listen.
“I wanted to take care of her.” It sounded so naive when he said it out loud. “I thought it was what she needed.” Nathan scanned the crowd, searching for a glimpse of gold. “But maybe it was what I needed. Sometimes I feel so goddamn useless.”
Joe grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “You don’t have to prove yourself to the people who love you, Nate. Just let us do it.”
Nathan had been clinging to the hope of a someday that deep down he’d never believed would come. Someday he’d make Beto proud. Someday his mother would choose him over his father. Someday he and Joe could be just brothers instead of burdens to each other. But the man he imagined in all those somedays wasn’t really him. That’s what Joe had been trying to say. That the man he was, this man, the weird afterthought with blurry non-dragons and too many feelings, this was the man they were all supporting tonight. Because they loved him, and because he was enough.
Joe’s gaze drifted past his shoulder, and Nathan turned to see Rachel standing a few feet away. She extended a tentative hand.
“Will you dance with me?”
Nathan didn’t move. He looked at the dance floor, which was dotted with older couples, swaying to the last notes of the saxophonist’s solo. Rachel had to know they would attract attention. Her fingers curled back slightly, like she was losing her nerve. But then she met his eyes and whispered, “Please.”
The word cut through him, even after everything.
The band started playing again. He ignored her hand and reached for her waist instead, pulling her into his arms. A dozen eyes swung their way, but he wouldn’t allow himself to care. What if this was his last chance to hold her like this? After tonight there were no more excuses—no galas to force them into each other’s lives.
“I wasn’t sure you would come,” Rachel said. She slid both hands up to his shoulders. “I’m glad you did.”
He looked around. The sly looks had turned to staring and whispering. Her fingers grazed the nape of his neck. Nathan met her eyes again. “Where’s your husband?”
He was trying to shock her into realizing they were making a scene, but she didn’t blink. “I miss you, Nathan.”