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After that, what will become of us? What even are we?
“You trust me, right? You said so?” His voice is so light and delicate I’m almost transported into a dreamlike state, imagining him in bed next to me, whispering sweet nothings through my hair.
Not here. Not now.
“I do.” Probably more than I should.
“Good. Because I trust you.” His brow hardens. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You know that, right?”
I’m about to answer, refuse him, even though there is some truth in that, when Nate reaches out his hand andtouches my knee. The warmth seeps through the leg of my jeans. It travels all the way up to my face. I get lightheaded.
As if that weren’t enough, his hand tightens, curls around my knee so his fingers are digging into me. Like he’s claiming me.
Maybe he is.
I draw my gaze from my knee to his eyes. Those gleaming light blues twinkle with a question.Is this okay?
So help me god, but it is. Or at least, it would be if Mason wasn’t staring me the fuck down.
“So, how’d you do it?”
I snap my attention back to Mason across the table. “Huh?”
“He’s walking like he’s been doing it for a while. Like you guys practiced the party trick or something,” Mason’s fork slices through his piece of cake, though his eyes don’t leave mine.
Nate does not lift his hand from my leg.
I wonder if Mason has some sort of x-ray vision, allowing him to see under the table, to witness the betrayal of his best friend and ex-girlfriend.
But is it really a betrayal if we haven’t been together in three years?
Nate beams. “She’s the best of the best. That’s all.”
“That’s Laney,” Mason says. “She goes above and beyond, doesn’t she?”
My heart pounds in my chest. What is happening?
The pressure of Nate’s hand on my leg doesn’t let up. “Sure does.”
Under the table, something hits my foot. The tip of a shoe.
I can’t keep myself from blushing as I look over at Mason.
The knowing smile on his lips lets me know it’s his shoe. Toying with me under the table.
“It all worked out, didn’t it?” Mason says.
“Better than I could have expected.” Nate’s hand slides further up my inner thigh.
I shoot out of my seat, knocking my chair back. The wooden back clatters against the floor and the whole room goes silent.
“I… Sorry.” I right the chair. “Bathroom. You know how it is.” I add a strained laugh directed at Abigail as if somehow this will imply there’s a womanly reason for my need to disappear. And in a way there is. Because there is a wetness between my thighs I need to get under control.
Not because of Nate. Not because of Mason.
But because ofbothof them.
I think I might pass out if I don’t have a moment to myself.
