by A. J. Briar
I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to ignore my brain, but I can’t stop picturing that night. The kiss between Nathan and Brooke, me storming away to only be followed by one of Brooke’s minions, Seth. The way he held his hand over my mouth, suffocating my screams as he gripped my body against his. Hot tears pour from my eyes as I struggle to deal with the memory. Having already remembered it once, you’d think I’d be able to cope with it, but I can’t. My breaths come out stilted and I lose sense of everything around me. This is the exact reason I ran in the first place. I’m simply not strong enough to deal with reliving the pain, I’ve already had to face once.
A gentle touch strokes my face, while I hear whispers in my ear, telling me it’s going to be okay. I focus on that voice, and the warmth from his caress. Slowly, my eyes open to reveal Nathan in front of me. His hands are cupping my face as he looks at me, bring me back from the edge. Fear is etched all over his features, reflecting my inner turmoil inside.
“It’s going to be okay.” His voice is full of grit and determination, that I almost believe that he’s telling me the truth. He strokes the side of my face and I feel the resolve behind his actions. A hiccup breaks free while I try and rein in my breakdown. I feel Nathan scoot closer; his embrace slowly erases the panic that swells inside. I have no idea how that is possible but being leant in his hold is gradually taking the sting of the memory away. I’m not entirely sure how long I stay in his arms but when my legs start to cramp, I wiggle away from him. Majority of last night, was spent like this, and now I’ve spent majority of my morning there too. I need space, before my mind starts feeling what my heart is.
“Thank you,” I murmur, while getting up to stretch my legs. Nathan stands too, reaching his arms above his head. He yawns which pulls his muscles taunt in a delicious way. I need to stop thinking about him that way, considering I’m the one who put the brakes on everything.
“Breakfast or shower first?” He questions casually, eyeing me up at the same time. Obviously, last night I didn’t seem to mind wearing his clothes, but sober, I’m feeling extremely self-conscious. Especially since I’ve been a blubbering mess for the last half an hour.
“Shower. You can hop in first if you like.” Nathan doesn’t disagree so he strolls towards the bathroom, leaving me alone for the first time since it’s all gone down. I thought by avoiding him, that the feelings he stirs inside me would magically disappear. Naïve, I know. Instead, all it’s done is cement the fact that I’m more messed up over this than I originally thought.
I grab my clothes from last night, just as Nathan opens the door to the bathroom. Steam billows out from behind him when he walks into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist. Droplets of water drip down onto his chest as he shakes his hair out. Hands down, I’ve never seen anything hotter in my life. I watch him grab some sweatpants from his drawer and then he flashes a wink my way, obviously knowing how enticing he’s being. In a moment of confidence or stupidity, I’m not sure which, he drops the towel to the floor which has me spinning on my heels. That’s definitely my cue to look away and run, before I get any stupid ideas about what we could be doing instead.
I hear his chuckle through the door, and I mentally curse at how fucking awkward I am. It’s times like this that I wish I wasn’t so fucked up. That I could just forget everything and indulge with no strings attached. Believe me, I tried, several times. All ended up ruined by my own conscious, which decided that I couldn’t go through with it, leading to an awkward and embarrassed goodbye.
It feels good to strip off and step into the heat of the shower. However, I shriek when the icy cold-water hits me like a sledgehammer. How the fuck did Nathan survive in here? I fiddle with the knobs, the water warming up by the second. A small smile graces my face, thinking of why Nathan might need a cold shower and that thought alone heats me more than the shower is. Shaking away the fantasies, I know I shouldn’t be having about Nathan, I shower quickly, scrubbing away all the grime from last night.
By the time, I’m dressed and refreshed, Nathan’s nowhere to be seen. The smell, however, is fucking divine. I follow the scent of pancakes and bacon through the apartment. Nathan stands in the kitchen, spatula in hand, flipping a pancake onto a stack, which is ready on a plate. He gestures for me to sit, then slides the food of gods towards me.
“Still a coffee addict?” I murmur a response, my mouth full of pancakes. I didn’t think I’d be able to stomach much, but I was severely wrong on that front. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, he goes to fill it up, before handing me a steaming cup of caffeine. I slurp loudly, which earns a chuckle from Nathan, who positions himself beside me. He leans gently on the counter, while sipping his own coffee. I notice that he doesn’t have a plate, which makes me slow my roll a little.
“Are you not eating?” I munch on a strip of bacon; the greasiness is exactly what I needed to perk me up.
“I may cook up an omelet later, not really feeling food right now.” He takes another sip hiding a grimace, that makes me wonder what’s going on in his head. I want to ask him why and find out, but I doubt he’ll tell me, so I go with another form of attack.
“So, the girls from last night. You all seemed pretty cozy.” I give some serious stink eye, though I know full well, I’m out of line for. Nathan isn’t mine and can do whatever he likes. Yup. That’s the line I’m going to keep repeating to myself and hope like hell it sticks.
“Ahh yes. Fifi and her band of minions. Not my type. More Rory’s type who decided to throw me and Logan under the bus with him.” I laugh aloud, fully believing him, having known Rory for the past few years.
I’m about to respond when commotion from the hallway garners our attention. I can hear Roxy raise her voice, and I jump up, my senses on high alert. She rounds the corner, running into the apartment, Logan hot on her heels looking entirely defeated.
“Rox?” I gently say her name when her gaze focuses on me. Her eyes narrow, taking in the situation. Anger fuels her actions, as she stalks towards Nathan pointing and prodding him in the chest.
“You. You said you were taking her back to our place. Why the fuck is she here and not at home in bed?” Roxy glares at Nathan which in turn, he straightens to his full height to respond. Before all hell breaks loose, I step in between them, forcing Roxy to step back.
“It’s my fault Rox. I was a mess, and it was closer to come here.” She exhales and pulls me into a hug, even though I can still feel her scowling at Nathan. She whispers how worried she’s been in my ear, and I quietly reassure her that I’m alright. Her head whips back and notices Nathan watching us both curiously. Logan pipes up from the doorway.
“Erm Rox? This is on me. He had text.” He holds up his phone, so Roxy can glance over it, reading it double speed. She punches Logan on the shoulder then spears Nathan with what can only be described as her apologetic gaze. It’s not much but it’s a start as the tension between us all ramps up. Roxy’s obviously pissed at Logan, Nathan’s fuming at Roxy, Logan’s mad at himself and in amongst all of it, I feel like I’m sat on a fence, staying neutral.
Trying to diffuse the situation, I suggest to Roxy that she comes and helps me clean up, then we’ll leave. To which Nathan and Logan both refuse to let us. I feel bad considering Nathan’s just cooked and cleaned for me but I’m unable to wallow for long. Roxy drags me out of the door, and I find myself a little disappointed that I’m not able to stay any longer. I give him a small wave, while he watches us make a hasty exit.
Roxy rants the entire way home about everything and anything, though I’m barely paying any attention to her. I pull out my phone and fire off a quick sorry and thank you text. He’s had to deal with two of my breakdowns in the past twelve hours, the guy deserves a medal. Slipping my phone away, I focus on Roxy’s outburst. Turns out, she also had a pretty shitty night, passing out next to Logan after they decided to drink their feelings away. I get the impression something else might have happened, but hell she definitely does not want to talk about it.<
br />
We get in and decide to both bed down on the couch, watching Netflix, the ultimate hangover cure. Roxy grabs some snacks from the kitchen, while I quickly change into my comfiest pjs and head back to get snug. I sneak a glance at my phone and light up, when I see a message notification from Nathan.
Nathan: You don’t ever need to apologize or thank me for being there for you Isabella. I will always be there for you, in any way, shape, form or fashion. Whatever you need.
My eyes linger on his words. Tears leak from my eyes as I become overcome with emotion for this guy. The guy who I ran from and broke his heart. The guy who I’m slowly starting to remember meant a hell of a lot to me. The guy who is slowly infiltrating my heart all over again. Roxy looks over while I try not to sniffle.
“Whoa. What’s going on? What’s happened?” She pauses the screen and turns her attention back on me. I debate lying to her but knowing Roxy, she’ll smell the lie a mile away. It takes me a while, but I fill her in on what happened last night. The memories I remembered, the way Nathan held me, consoling me. By the end of the tale, Roxy has clambered over to my side of the couch and is holding me in her arms.
“You’re gonna hate me for this, but I really think you should give him a chance.” Taken aback by her response, I nearly fall off the sofa whirling my head to search her face for any signs she’s joking. I wish it were just as easy as giving him a chance but its honestly not.
“I can’t do that. You know that. I know that.” I try to keep my tone full of resolve though when I speak, my voice wobbles.
“All I know is you’re scared shitless of the past, that you’re letting it define your future.” I recoil, the sting of her words slaps me hard in the face. Having nothing I want to say to her, I storm out of the living room and into the safety of my bedroom.
I know Roxy is only trying to be direct, but the honesty pill is a bitter one to swallow. One that I’m definitely not ready to face yet. I hide out in my bed, even when Roxy gently taps on the door to say she’s sorry, I stay in my own little world. The shenanigans of yesterday obviously taking its toll, I sleep most of the day away, as well as the night.
When I awake the following morning, my eyes land on my laptop and I’m reminded of the article I’ve yet to begin to write. Inwardly groaning, I stretch out, trying to figure out what I’m going to do.
A rap at my door interrupts my thoughts. I get up and open the door, knowing full well who it’s going to be. Roxy stands in the hallway, looking worse than I’ve ever seen her. I hate seeing her so cut up, so I pull her into a hug straight away. Did I like the way she spoke to me? Hell no. But I know she means well. I can’t hold her honesty against her. She’ll never change and in a strange way, I wouldn’t want her too. She is who she is because of it, not in spite of it.
“Please tell me I’m forgiven.” She whispers and her voice cracks a tiny bit.
“Of course. I’m sorry I stormed off. I needed time to cool off.” We break our embrace and both head to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge while Roxy starts pulling ingredients together to make her breakfast smoothie. My mind flits back to my article and I make a snap decision to ask Roxy’s advice on what I should do.
“Hmm.” Her lips purses together, making a humming noise, feigning like she’s thinking. She eyes me and then a slow smile graces her face. “If I were you, I’d get my detective mode on and see what I can find out. If you think he’s hiding something, then let’s see.” She pulls her phone from her jeans pocket and instantly begins searching. I don’t know whether to laugh or be alarmed, that within minutes, she’s managed to find all of his social media accounts and is slowly trolling through each one. Her face distorts with disgust when she stops scrolling on her phone. I lean over trying to see, but she clicks it off before I have a chance.
“I’m pretty sure, you don’t want to see that Izzy.” A wave of nausea crashes over me, thinking of all the possibilities it could be. I’m probably opening myself up to a world of unnecessary pain, but I can’t help myself. I bring up his Instagram page. His profile is relatively modest, most of his pictures are of different horizons, or shots of his tattoos. I’m about to call Roxy out, when she clicks over to his tagged photos and that’s when the vomit threatens to appear. Photo after photo of Nathan in all sorts of positions, most with half naked girls around him. I swallow down the bile and reason with myself, that I have no right to be mad at him. I was the one who ran from him, leaving him behind in the dust, so I can’t be jealous that he was able to carry on living without me.
Roxy rubs circles on my back as I continue to torture myself with his past. We get to the end and I feel even worse than I did to begin with. I’m no closer to getting any answers about his past; other than he’s been one massive slut. Maybe that’s why he moved, because he’d fucked his way through the girls at his old college and now he’s probably here to do the same. Well, that second part might technically not be true but my mind warps to the worst possible scenario. Roxy suggests going to see him and going all sleuth on his ass, which I have to admit, beats moping around here all day.
I fire off a text asking him what his plans are for today, hoping it comes across casual and not desperate like I feel. Plus, I don’t like the fact, that we haven’t found out much. It only makes this whole situation more suspicious. Roxy managed to figure out what college he went too but that’s about it. My phone vibrates and I grab it far too quickly, which earns an eyebrow raise from Roxy.
Nathan: I’m just about to hit practice with the guys. I’m free later if you want to meet?
I smile at the fact he’s leaving the decision up to me, which perks Roxy’s eyebrow even higher than it already is. My eyes search for something to throw at her, but come up short, realizing I don’t want to wreck our kitchen. I go to type out a response but think better of it. There’s no way, I can wait till later to get some answers. The sooner the better, plus I’ll need time to write the article tonight. Jumping up, I make my way towards my room.
“Bye then.” Roxy calls out, her tone full of laughter while I flip her the bird. Donning some yoga pants, sports bra, and a tank top, I mentally run through this decision. Do I really want to delve into his past? What if he has some ex he’s running from? Or something worse? I shake away the worries and head out, grateful that it’s a relatively warm day.
By the time I’ve walked to the gym where the guy’s practice, I’m a sweaty mess and in dire need of a drink. I notice a few cars in the lot, which makes me think practice might be over with. Pushing open the double doors, the welcome coolness from the AC, instantly soothes the burning of my skin. A few of the guys are still on court, dribbling the ball up and down, Nathan being one of them. My eyes automatically seek his, as he passes the ball to one of his teammates. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he notices me and stalks towards me; the confusion being trumped by the anticipation that adorns his face.
“Hey.” He stops short of me, obviously unsure why I’ve decided to gatecrash his practice.
“Hey,” I reply, words failing me, thinking of a reason for why I’m here so early. I can’t exactly say I’m here to find out all your dirty little secrets regarding the last two years.
“I was just passing by, and thought I’d sneak in.” Walking over to the set of basketballs, I pull one from the rack. The rest of the guys have dispersed, probably to go shower the stink away. I begin to dribble and take a shot. The ball is nowhere close to the ring, but it’s unsurprising since it’s been a while since I’ve played with Rory and Logan.
Nathan chuckles from behind me and I swing my head, feigning outrage. He approaches me with a ball in his hand, his eyes never leave mine while he flicks the ball into the hoop. I don’t even need to look to see it’s gone in; I can see the smirk on Nathan’s face saying it all. The ball rolls back to us, sitting innocently at his feet when an idea flashes through my head and I suddenly realize how I can get some answers from him without being too intrusive.
“What do you
say to a game of PIG?” His eyebrow quirks up and he’s probably wondering where the hell I’m going with this. The cogs in his head clearly turn, obviously believing that I’m utter shit at basketball. Little does he know; I spent the previous summer staying at Roxy’s with Rory and Logan. It was a basketball match a day, which allowed Logan and Rory to go to great lengths teaching me how to play so I could at least give them a challenge.
“Every time one of us loses a letter, the other gets to ask any question they like. No holding back. And the other absolutely has to answer honestly. No forfeits.” I sell it as best as I can, knowing that this may well gain me the answers I desperately crave. To make it even more enticing, I add.
“Whoever wins at the end of it all, gets whatever they want.” I tack on the end. “Within reason.”
Nathan uses his finger and thumb to stroke his chin, like an old school cop would, when they’re trying to figure out a mystery.
“Okay then. Deal.” He holds his hand out, which I step forward and shake. His mind clearly tries to go through the motions on what is happening here. Before he can react, I steal the ball and dribble around him, the skills I’ve learnt off Logan and Rory come back to me in an instant. I line up my shot and shoot, watching the ball sail through the air and straight through the hoop. Nathan stares at me, his jaw to the floor, as he takes in what just occurred.
“Game on, Nathan Hartley.”
14
Nathan
She’s duped me. The woman straight up conned me and now I’m left standing here, with my jaw slack, wondering how on Earth she pulled that off. Of course, it doesn’t shock me that she’s decent, considering her height, her legs go on for days. That certainly helps, so you’re closer to the net than most. I have to admit, seeing her waltz in here, in tight yoga pants and a tank top, that made me weak at the knees, was a shock. Though, all of this shouldn’t really come as surprise. She’s obviously planned this entire scenario. For what reasons, I’ve still yet to figure out but if she wants game, she’s gonna get it. Plus, it gives me a chance to try and figure out what she really wants.