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“Because you’re funny in a completely unpretentious way. You aren’t impressed with yourself at all.”
My teeth grab at the inside of my cheek to hide a shy smile. “That’s a good start.”
He begins a circuitous approach toward me. First stopping at my dresser to appraise the debris from my pockets and other knickknacks. Then my nightstand, with my headphones and books. He inspects the contents of the document box spread on the floor.
“You’re curious,” he continues.
“As in strange?”
“As in inquisitive. I despise the uninterested.”
The statement just further adds to my mystification that he and Yvonne ever found themselves in a conversation long enough to learn each other’s names. The sex must have been amazing.
“What?” Nate asks roughly. “What are you thinking about?”
“Sex.”
“Oh.” He closes in on me.
“Academically.” I dodge him, crossing the room to the small window bench.
“Of course.”
Tired of stalking me around the room, he sits at the foot of my bed.
“Don’t take that to mean I’m not interested in hearing more compliments.”
He’s a good sport, laughing huskily. “To be honest, I thought you were fit the first night we met.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
My nerves go a bit haywire, losing their composure. It’s like that startled feeling when you’re about to fall but both feet haven’t left the ground yet. On my window bench, I pull my knees up to my chest because if I don’t hang on to my legs, they’re going to carry me over to that bed, and then I can’t be held responsible for my actions.
Nate scrutinizes me with a narrowed gaze. “It’s okay to feel this.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means…” He stands and strides toward me. Takes a seat beside me. “You’d rather make jokes than be present.”
I swallow hard, my head a bit foggy with the slightest scent of motor oil that follows him. It’s the dumbest thing but I can’t get enough of it.
“Because I don’t know how we do this,” I confess.
I also don’t have a filter where it comes to Nate. Not now anyway.He’s overwhelming. My entire body is scrambling to cope with the effects of him, both excited and terrified of where we go from here.
“Are you afraid of me?”
Yes, I almost say out loud. I’m afraid of letting myself fall for him. Of making a terrible mistake. I’m afraid of the untethered, unknowable next.
I bite my lip and say, “No. Well, maybe a little.”
“Should I go?”
I shake my head. If he leaves now, I’ll lose my nerve. And then spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I’d worked up the courage to not overthink it. To take a leap and find out what’s on the other side.
“You haven’t said if I’m making an ass of myself here.” Nate inspects the ink stains on my fingers from rummaging through the box of papers. He softly drags his fingertips across mine. “You’ve got me at a disadvantage.”
I’m not sure that’s true.
