The glow dimmed. “I can’t—” She paused, and chewed her lip for two agonizing seconds, before nodding to herself. “You know what? Yes. Let’s do it. How’s this weekend?”
“Good!” Nathan said, trying to rein in his enthusiasm, even though his greedy heart was still spinning. “It’s great. It’ll be fun.”
She nodded and touched an empty glass. “Would you like another drink?”
He glanced at a clock. “It’s five thirty. I should probably slow down.”
She blinked and shook her head. “You’re right. It is early, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She poured the rest of her drink down the sink, flipped on the faucet, and chased everything with an aggressive wipe-down using a dishcloth that she threw in a small basket next to the refrigerator.
“What’s wrong?”
“What?” She blinked like he was shining a flashlight in her face. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t look okay.”
She touched her ponytail. “Excuse me for relaxing in my own home.”
“I’m not talking about your hair. I like your hair. I like—” Every inch of you. “Did Matt—” The name was acid in his throat. “Did he do something to you?”
“No. I’m fine.” She inhaled sharply. “Could you move that back, please?”
Nathan frowned, realizing that he’d been absently fiddling with a porcelain bird figurine. It was part of a collection that lined the table beside him.
“Sorry.” He put it down.
She shook her head. “Not there.”
He looked at it again and realized how ugly it was. It was a robin redbreast, covered with a glossy sheen that gave off Flowers in the Attic vibes. “Are these yours?”
“They belonged to Matt’s dead aunt,” she said. “His mother looks in on them whenever she stops by.”
Nathan nodded. “Got it, right.” He took the bird, walked across the kitchen, and set it on the counter. “You should throw that thing in the trash.”
A startled laugh burst from her throat. “Why?”
“Because it’s ugly. It also stresses you out. Who gives a shit if it’s a millimeter to the left?”
“I like things a certain way.”
“I think need is more accurate.” He pointed to the figurine. “I dare you to leave it right here. Or at least two millimeters away from where it should be. All night—don’t move it, don’t even look at it.”
She walked around the counter to face him. The top of her ponytail barely reached his chin. He looked down and got an eyeful of bright red toenails. What would people think if they saw her like this? Barefoot and tipsy. Vulnerable.
“You’re making fun of me,” she said.
“Never.” He grinned. “A little.”
“I don’t do dares.”
“You mean you don’t win them.” He tapped the bird’s head with one finger. “That’s surprising. I thought you were a low-key suburban badass.”
Her lips twitched as she fought a smile. “Now you’re trying to provoke me.”
Her fingers darted toward the bird. He snatched it away, laughing, and grabbed her wrist. “Cheater.”
Her eyes fell to his lips. He wondered if she realized how often she did that—stared at his mouth like she was desperate for him to kiss her.
“I’m not playing a game,” she whispered.
Nathan tugged her closer and brought her hand to his chest. Her fingers splayed against his heart. She had to know what being this close to her did to him.
“Neither am I.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
That second drink was a mistake. It was working inside her, alchemizing with the lust rushing through her veins. She was warm, but Nathan was burning. He cradled her neck, thumb to her pulse, then gave her a look that was yearning and haunted, like an ache.
Rachel knew what falling in love felt like. The beats were as instinctual as holding a camera. She could go months without taking a photo, but her hands would know what her mind had forgotten. Just like her heart. Last night, she’d tossed and turned, rehashing all her choices. Love wasn’t a free fall, it was surrender.
“Why did you bring me here?” Nathan whispered.
She pulled his hand away and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Nathan swayed, unsteady. “Rachel—”
“You’re too young. And I’m still—” She couldn’t bring herself to complete the thought. She didn’t feel married. She felt like a prisoner promised early release for good behavior. “My life is a mess. It isn’t fair for you to be a part of it.”