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I hesitate. I always dread this question because it seems so final once you vocalize an answer. You speak it, and it’s like signing a contract in blood. A path is set, and it gets harder to deviate from it.
“I’ve toyed with the idea of getting my PhD. Teaching at a university maybe. But then I worry I’m giving up any chance at adventure if I burrow down in a stuffy basement office with my books. I’m still young, right? There’s still time to become an astronaut. Or James Cameron.”
“Can’t you do both?” he challenges again.
“James Cameron in space? He’s probably already bought the rights.”
Nate laughs. “Adventure. Whatever that looks like to you. All I’m saying is I’d be on the road right now if I had the cash. Seems like you’ve got more than enough to take off anywhere you’d want to go.”
“Try telling that to my dad. He still gets anxious when I ride in cars with people he doesn’t know. Letting me move to London was a months-long argument, so I’m not sure telling him I want to spend three months backpacking across South America would go over well. Could put him in an early grave.”
“Take some advice,” Nate says, sweeping a few strands of hair off my face. “Don’t spend what little time we have making everyone elsehappy at your own expense. You’re the only one who will live with your regrets.”
“Can I ask about your family?” I hedge.
He tilts his head down, questioning.
“The last time you mentioned them, you didn’t want to talk about it. On the beach in Rye.”
“There isn’t much to say. I’m not unique by any means.” Nate laces his fingers through mine, rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand. He lets out a long exhale. “Dad liked to knock me around. Just a mean old bastard who told himself he was making me tougher.”
My heart clenches for him.
“Mum kept her head down and preferred to not get involved. Till one day he took a swing and I swung back. We don’t talk anymore, me and him. She’s always on me about not visiting, but most of the time, I’d rather swallow glass.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He kisses my hair, pulling me tighter to drape my leg over his hip. “I don’t pity myself. You shouldn’t either. We’ve all got shit. Mine’s not special.”
I’ve never had this before—lying in bed with a man, talking about the real stuff. Our plans and baggage. This is what adult relationships look like, I guess. When you stop worrying about getting caught sneaking a boy in after curfew and instead muse about your lost childhoods. Sad as it sounds, it feels like growing up.
“Bollocks. I didn’t mean to wreck the mood,” he says. “I’m not being great company.”
“Nah. I like your company.”
I absently trail my fingertips down his shoulders, across his chest. When I reach his abdomen, he sucks in a jagged breath while gripping my ass. Just that small sensation reignites the warmth that pulses through my core and twists my stomach.
“Actually, I take it back. You’re terrible company,” I say in an impish tone. “I require cheering up. ASAP.”
“I might have a few ideas about that.”
Suddenly, he pulls me on top of him to straddle his hips. I feel him grow hard beneath me. The thrill of what I can do to him, how his body responds to mine, is a potent hit of adrenaline to my system.
And I’m dangerously close to developing a taste for it.
In the morning, I expect to wake alone to a text or note on my nightstand. Instead, I find Nate sprawled out across one side of my bed, his naked body a whole meal.
As much as I’d love to go there, I need to get him out of here before the whole house wakes up and this becomes a discussion. Frankly, I’m happy to put that off as long as possible.
He rouses as I peel myself out from under the covers.
“Morning,” he mumbles, squinting against the sun and rubbing his eyes. It’s hot and adorable at the same time, and it takes all my willpower not to jump on his dick.
“Morning. Not to be rude, but if you don’t want an interrogation on your way out, you better hop to.”
He flashes me a sly grin. “Are you kicking me out of bed?”
“You’re cute, but yes.”
