“Whatever.”
“Guac! You have to pinky swear.”
I hold in my giggle because she’s being so dramatic and secretive, but Gabe shows zero curiosity about her secret.
“Fine. I swear.”
It’s probably a laxative or hemorrhoid cream. I’m not sure he knows what either of those things are, but I have no doubt Ms. Smarty Pants will fully inform him. It makes me think of all the talks I need to have with him. I have no idea what Kyle and Emily taught him or what he’s learned in school or through friends. On one hand, I don’t want to overshare too early, but I also don’t want him running into too many Morgans in the world and feeling stupid when he doesn’t know about something.
“Condoms!”
Thump.
Clunk.
Thump.
Clump.
Crash.
The dropped glass from my hand survives the carpeted stairs but suffers an ill fate at the bottom with the tiled floor. I drown my gasp with a hand over my mouth and fly down the stairs.
“What was that?” Gabe calls.
“Um … nothing. Just dropped a cup. Keep eating. No big deal.” I pick up the pieces while the word condoms echoes in my head.
Nate bought condoms. There’s no way he bought them for Mr. Hans. No. Way.
My head is ready to explode with clashing thoughts.
We kissed.
He bought condoms.
Morgan saw them.
She told Gabe.
Does Gabe know what condoms are?
Why did he buy condoms?
Maybe they’re not for me. How many women is he kissing?
“Whoa, what happened?” Mr. Condoms comes through the screen door.
“Glass slipped. My fault.”
Your fault!
I take the larger pieces to the kitchen and toss them in the trash before retrieving the broom and dustpan from the garage.
“Let me hold it.” Nate takes the dustpan from me.
I do not make eye contact as I relinquish it when I sweep the mess into it or when I take it from him and head back to the kitchen.
“Where’s Hugh?” he asks after I return the broom and dustpan to the garage.
“Not sure. I think he agreed to take Hunter to the mall.” I wash my hands without looking at Nate and his sexy smile, his slightly fitted gray tee, or his muscly calves.
“I see. Well, I’m taking Morgan to the ice rink. Does Gabe like to ice-skate?”
My head snaps up, my gaze laser focused on him now. “Ice-skate?”
“Yeah.”
“You ice-skate?”
He chuckles, crossing his veiny arms over his expansive chest. “I played hockey for years. I like finding adult leagues that let me jump in and substitute when they need someone. There’s open skating today, and Morgan loves to skate. She’s more of a figure skater. No interest in hockey.”
“I played hockey too.”
“You?” His thick brows lurch up his forehead.
“Um … yeah. Why the look? Girls can play hockey too.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I mean … I know. I’m from Wisconsin. I know a lot of girls who played hockey or just ice-skated a lot in general. I just …” His head continues to shake. “I’m not sure why I’m surprised by this.”
I turn around and lift the back of my hair so he can see the nape of my neck.
“Damn … you have a tattoo.” He moves closer, inspecting the crisscrossed hockey sticks tattooed where no one sees them unless my hair is pulled up.
I used to wear it in a ponytail or a messy bun a lot … when it was longer like Black Beauty’s. I turn back toward him. “For your information, I have more than one tattoo.” I smirk.
He wets his lips and gives me the sexiest smirk. I feel it tickle deep in my belly and a little lower as well.
“Is that so?”
Returning a shaky chuckle, I step back. It’s too hot to be so close. “Yeah. It’s so.”
Dragging his teeth along his bottom lip and his gaze down my body, he releases a deep hum. “Can’t wait to see them.”
Condoms. Condoms. CONDOMS!
“They’re not visible when I’m clothed.”
His gaze makes a lazy retreat to mine. “What about in your bra and panties?”
Biting back my smile, I shake my head slowly.
“Well … fuck …” he whispers.
I feel those whispered words like his tongue dragging along the most intimate parts of my body.
When I make an effort to take yet another step backward, my backside hits the counter. My hands rest on either side, and I clear my throat. “Gabe! Come down here, please.”
Nate smirks. He knows I’m desperate to end this moment. There’s just no need for me to let my hormonal body suffer another second under his gaze—the one who likes to stare at my hair and other parts of my body.
“Yeah?” Gabe and Morgan head directly toward the fridge to get two bottles of juice.
“Gabe. Did your dad ever teach you to ice-skate?”
“Yeah, but I’m not great at it.”
“Oh, Dad! Let’s take Gabe and Gracelyn with us.” Morgan’s plea to Nate is filled with her usual enthusiasm.
“Too late, Squirt. I already came up with that idea.”