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His shy smile.
Still, I can’t help but marvel at the contrast between his rough, calloused hands and my delicate ones. They look so perfectly intertwined, like two puzzle pieces finally fitting together. I’m almost tempted to trace the fine lines on his palms, in awe of the strength and warmth they possess, never wanting to let go.
Snap out of it, Lottie.
Right.
Okay.
I plant a shaky smile and give his hands a tug, but as I help him rise to his feet, my own footing slips, causing Nate to instinctively place his hand on the small of my back for support.
Suddenly, we find ourselves glued together, our chests pressing against each other’s. My breath catches in my throat, mirroring the slight hiss that escapes his lips. There is an undeniable electric current between us, and in that fleeting moment, I can’t help but imagine that Nate is about to kiss me. Itell myself that it’s just my imagination running wild. That Nate did not just hold me closer and lean in for a kiss.
It’s easier to brush that ridiculous thought away than it is to ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach.
And like I’ve been prone to do lately, I physically force myself to take a step back to gather some composure while praying that my trembling smile doesn’t give me away.
“You okay?” he asks, eyeing me with concern.
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I laugh off. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
He nods, hanging his head low as he follows me back to my car. But just as we are passing the BU parking lot, a familiar jeep catches my attention.
It’s the same one I saw parked outside Maury’s Ax Throwing Bar & Grill on our first date. The same one that probably belongs to one of the jerks who had been harassing him all night with their taunts and slurs. Nate probably realizes it, too, since a forlorn expression is plastered all over his face.
“I need you to do me a favor. Be my look out, will you?” I tell him while rummaging through my small backpack.
“Should I be worried that you sound like you’re about to rob a bank?”
“Oh, nothing as illegal as that. Don’t worry.”
After a few minutes of rummaging through my bag, I finally smile when I find what I’m looking for.
“Is that a switchblade?” he blurts out before towering over me to hide the blade in my hands.
“Consider this karmic justice.” I wink before running over to the jeep and plunging the sharp blade into its tires.
One by one, I watch them start to deflate, unable to keep my smile from splitting my face in two.
“There. Now I feel better.”
“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” he whispers in awe, running his fingers through his hair.
“Funny. I thought the same thing about you.”
“You thought I was trouble?” he asks, wide-eyed.
I still do.
A lot of trouble.
“The good kind of trouble.”
“Is that even a thing?” he chuckles.
