Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)
Page 49
Standing up and stumbling back several steps, I smooth my hand down my top, my hand wrapping around my wrist as I try to pull myself together. Nate watches, seemingly fascinated at all of my movements.
“So you definitely want there to be a second date?” his gruff voice asks, hope in its depths.
A slow steady smile lifts my lips. “I wouldn’t have moved if I didn’t.” I step forward before stopping myself. “I like you, too, Nate. Probably more than I should, and I also probably shouldn’t be telling you just how much on our first date.” I pause. “But I’ve never felt whatever it is I feel when I’m around you.” My hand flutters up my arm and rests on my chest: over my heart. “You... feel like home.”
“I know the feeling,” he says, standing up and taking three steps toward me. He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me to him for a minute before he grins and runs his hand down my arm, grasping my hand. “Let’s clear this stuff away and lie down and watch the stars.”
I swallow against the dryness in my throat at the thought of lying next to him before I nod. He packs everything away, straightening out the blanket before sitting down and patting the space next to him. Looking back up at me from where I haven’t moved, his green eyes catch me in their web, not letting me go.
Slowly I step forward, kneeling down before lying on my back. I stare up at the stars on the roof of the building, feeling Nate’s hand take ahold of mine as he lowers himself.
“So beautiful,” I murmur.
“You are.” Turning my head, I come face to face with Nate. “Inside and out,” he whispers, locking me in his gaze.
We stay like that, the stars shining above us, but neither of us watching them. Instead we share silent things with our eyes, getting to know each other without speaking.
I may have thought one date couldn’t possibly have this kind of effect. But I was wrong. So, so wrong.
Why is it when you have the whole day to binge-watch Netflix, you can never decide what series to watch?
I scroll through the same things over and over again, frustrated and bored. Pretty Little Liars—seen. Shooter—watched. Gilmore Girls—watched and rewatched. The Last Kingdom—been there, done that. But hey, Uhtred can be watched over and over again, right?
Smirking, I hit play and wait as the first episode loads. The musical opening starts and I do a little dance on the sofa. There’s nothing sexier than a Viking.
“A?”
I frown as I hear Tristan’s voice after he knocks on the pool house door. Pausing the TV, I stand up and turn around, seeing him standing on the other side of the door, his hands in his pockets.
“Hey,” I say, pushing the door open and stepping back.
“Hey.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I know it’s Saturday, but—”
“You need me to have the kids?” I interrupt.
“I… yeah.” His gray eyes focus on mine, looking frustrated. “I have to go into the city for a board meeting. It’s all this Pete stuff—”
“No worries.” I wave him off, spinning around and picking up my remote.
“Are you sure?” I flick my gaze to him as he leans to the side, looking at the TV behind me. “I hate to interrupt your Netflix time.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug, turning the TV off before walking over to my bed and picking up my cell off the nightstand and grabbing my bag. “I’d much rather spend the afternoon with the kids.”
“You sure? I can always ask my mom.”
“Tris.” I walk back over to him, stepping out of the pool house and waiting for him to follow me out. “It’s my job. Go to the city, we’ll be fine.” I make a shooing motion to him.
“Thanks, A.” He throws his arm over my shoulder, walking with me to the main house and stopping when we get to the kitchen table. “You had another delivery.” His eyes watch me, probably waiting for some kind of sign or freak-out like I had last week.
“Ohhh!” I clap my hands to hide the shaking. “They must be my new shoes.” I push on the brightest smile as he grins, seeming to believe me.
“I better…” He hooks his thumb over his shoulder.
“I’ll check on the kids before I open my new present.”
Following him up the stairs, I head into Clay’s room. He’s sitting in his reading nook, soaking up the words of a book yet again. Walking over to Izzie’s room, me and Tris swap places as he tells them he probably won’t be back until they’re in bed.
“Hey, Izzie.”