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“So, I’m a bad guy because I keep you accountable?”
“It isn’t accountability, Aaron, it’s obsession! You care too much about what I’m doing and whom I’m doing it with.” My voice breaks, and I hate it. I hate that he can tell what he’s doing to me. “You want to control me, and you’re destroying our friendship, our partnership!”
“When are you coming home?” he says abruptly. “I miss you.”
His change of direction gives me whiplash and it reminds me that deep down, Aaron’s lost. “I can’t come home until you properly understand what you’ve done, and I believe you will change.” Standing from my seat, I sling my purse over my shoulder. “I can’t trust you right now, Aaron. But we’re paired together whether we like it or not, so I’m going to need to be able to navigate this somehow.”
He nods, face blank. “I know you believe anything he tells you, but why would I purposely put you at a greater risk of injury, Anastasia?” Sighing, he lets his shoulder sag. “If you don’t believe I care about you, fine. But you know I care about myself, so why would I risk my own goals if you ended up with an injury?”
If this wasn’t such a miserable situation, what he said might be funny. He isn’t wrong; the number one thing Aaron Carlisle cares about is himself. “I don’t know why you do a lot of the things you do. But it doesn’t mean you don’t do them.”
“I didn’t like watching you skating with someone else. I do want to fix this, Stas. I promise.”
“I believe you, but right now your promise isn’t enough.”
* * *
When I climbedinto Nathan’s car earlier, bursting with too much adrenaline, I asked him if he felt like doing something irresponsible.
Throwing a party the week before finals start is my version of irresponsible, as is playing drinking games with a man a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than me. To even our odds, Nate’s drink is twice as strong as mine, not that he’s noticed. Luckily for me, the game of choice isNever Have I Ever, and it turns out Nate has spent quite a lot of his time at college gaining new experiences.
Mattie clears his throat to get everyone’s attention for his turn. “Never have I ever…accidentally called Faulkner while I was having sex.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Nate mutters, lifting his drink to his lips. He doesn’t bother looking at me. “You don’t wanna know.”
“Okay, okay.” JJ rubs his hands together. “Never have I ever…left the club with an older woman,” several of the guys lift their cups, stopping when JJ asks them to wait, “then found out I’d also hooked up with her daughter when I saw the family pictures on the wall the next morning.”
Nathan curses under his breath, shaking his head at his best friend as he lifts his cup to his mouth again.
“Oh my God!” My jaw might as well be on the floor, Sabrina is cackling beside me, and Jaiden looks incredibly happy with himself. It’s my turn, and I can’t think of anything as outrageous as the guys have, but I have one thing that I know will make him drink. “Never have I ever…fallen out of a ski lift.”
Nate snorts, lifting his cup straight away. Beside him, Robbie drinks too.
“You as well?” I laugh when he nods, wincing as he swallows his drink. Sabrina made that one, so God knows how strong it is.
“Yeah, the little shit dragged me with him.”
The game continues, and naturally, the guys use it as a way to air each other’s indiscretions. Sabrina and I move away to catch up on the day’s events, and after an hour of us swapping theories and basically straight-up bitching about Aaron, I track Nate down.
I find him in the den, totally ignoring two girls trying to talk to him. As soon as I approach, he pulls me into his lap and buries his head in my neck. “Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”
“With Brin. How can you miss me? You see me every day.”
Not bothering to answer my question, I feel him nibble my ear. “I can’t remember why I’m not allowed to kiss you anymore, but I really,reallywant to.” He’s so drunk his words are slurring, but I can’t remember either. “You’re so pretty, Stassie.”
Spinning in his lap to face him, his groan lets me know that wasn’t the best decision. He places his hand on my face and pouts. “We do sex so well. Come on, I’ll remind you.”
I’m taking him to bed, but it’s certainly not going to be for that. “Come on, drunk boy.”
It’s like trying to control a very rowdy toddler as I navigate him up the stairs. Crashing into his room, Nathan instantly strips off, throwing his clothes around haphazardly. While I’m picking up his clothes, I hear the shower start, and moments later, a very loud, off-key rendition of “Last Christmas” echoes over the sound of running water.
He appears minutes later, smelling strongly of honey and strawberry, so I know he’s used my shampoo. The towel is hanging loosely from his hips, droplets of water running down his solid chest.
Jesus Christ.
Not caring that he’s dripping wet, he stomps across the room, stopping in front of me. “Wanna do the no-pants dance with me?”
“No. I want you to get into bed and go to sleep.”
