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Sierra
I wokeup feeling overly warm. It took me about three seconds to realize why. An arm was slung over my waist, a hand cupping my breast over my shirt. My head was pillowed on another arm, and my legs were tangled together with Nate’s.
I attempted to free my legs.
Behind me, Nate groaned and his arm tightened, pulling me more securely against his body. I sucked in a breath as I felt his erection pressing into my backside.
Well, this was about to get awkward.
I’d been caught off guard by his behavior last night. We’d both been shaken. But now, in the light of day, inviting him into my bed didn’t seem like such a good idea. Neither of us wanted to get attached any more than we already were. I didn’t need to willingly put myself through the pain, and he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested… even if I could feel the evidence that suggested otherwise against my back.
I took a deep breath and attempted to move the arm that was wrapped around me. His grip was too strong, and he was not budging. It seemed I wouldn’t be getting out of the bed without waking him.
“Nate,” I murmured.
He made a tired sound of protest and somehow snuggled even closer.
“Nate,” I repeated.
I felt the moment he woke up. His whole body tensed, and I was pretty sure he stopped breathing. Then his arm was gone and his heat disappeared from my back.
“Shit.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No”—his voice was sharp enough to make me flinch—“it’s not.”
“Nate…”
“Don’t call me that.” The bed shifted as he stood and pulled his jeans and boots back on.
“I’m sorry.” I hated how small my voice sounded. I hated the burn that was starting in the back of my throat and the tears that were trying to form in my eyes. I’d never meant to get close enough to let this man hurt me. I’d told myself over and over that I was a job to him, that we were never going to happen, but that didn’t make his rejection hurt less.
“It’s not your fault; this is on me. I’m going to make breakfast. Is there anything in particular you want?”
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”
And then he was gone, leaving me alone, my memories of last night already starting to feel like a distant dream.
Eventually I dragged myself out of bed and got dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt that used to belong to one of Kylie’s exes. I’d promised Nate—no,Nathaniel—that I would stay in the apartment today. And I wouldn’t go back on my promise even if I wanted nothing more than to get some space from him this morning.
I grabbed my phone out of the pocket of the jeans I’d discarded yesterday and left the bedroom.
Nathaniel was sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal and a faraway expression. He acknowledged my presence with a nod but didn’t say anything.
I got myself a glass of orange juice and watched him through the window between the kitchen and living room. He didn’t look my way. The boy who’d said he didn’t want to let me out of his sight was long gone.
Leaning against the counter, I took out my phone and pulled up my text thread with Kylie.
Me:How’s your trip going?
Kylie:Mom’s already driving me crazy. She has me on decoration duty for the baby shower. Please don’t ask me to decorate when you have a baby.
Me:Ha ha. I promise.
Kylie:How’s being alone in the apartment with Mr. Hottie Guardian Angel?
Me:Not so great…
