by Box Set
Cara picked up the glass and sniffed it, wrinkling her nose.
“It smells…fruity.”
“Yeah.” He grinned and waited.
She tipped the glass up and sipped. Her brows rose and she licked her lips.
“What is it?” she asked again.
“Drink the whole thing and I’ll tell you.” Nate picked up his shot glass and downed it in one gulp.
Cara watched him a moment longer, then took another sip. Then one more.
Nate poured them both another shot.
“That…what is it?”
“This is fruit loop Loki.”
“Loki?”
“Guy I know makes it.”
“Like, moonshine? It doesn’t even taste like alcohol.” She picked up her glass and sipped some more.
“It’s good, right?” He tossed the liquor back, swirling the sweet, fruity flavors over his tongue.
This time she finished the liquid in two gulps.
One more round.
Cara upended the glass like a proper shot and pushed the glass back across to him.
“Give it a second. This shit’s like ninety proof.” He didn’t want to get her drunk, just loosened up enough to talk to him. Plus, Cara was cute and cuddly when she drank, and he wouldn’t mind curling up on the sofa to watch a movie or anything.
“It doesn’t taste—wow. Yeah. There it goes.” Cara gripped the edge of the island and covered her mouth with her hand.
Yeah, three was enough.
He stoppered the bottle.
“Hey, not yet.” Cara grabbed the neck of the growler.
“Maybe some more later?”
“No.”
She wrestled the bottle out of his hands and carefully poured them both another glass.
“One more.” Nate frowned at her, but she just grinned back, glasses slightly askew.
He picked up the shot glass and gulped it down.
“Cara!” Nate gaped at the tiny woman, chugging straight from the Loki bottle. Sure, it went down without a bite and was pretty dang smooth, but it was still very potent alcohol.
She lowered the bottle and wiped her chin with the back of her hand.
“What?” She blinked at him, her cheeks rosy and full of color.
How did he scold that face?
She nursed her shot glass and leaned her elbows on the island, while he shoved the Loki bottle in the very back of the freezer.
Damn. They’d just gone through a half of it, and the growler wasn’t exactly a small container. How much had she chugged?
Nate rested his elbows on the island, mirroring her pose. Her impish grin was a good indicator she was feeling pretty good about now.
“So, want to tell me what’s up?” He gave her his most serious face.
“Chicken butt.” She reached out and booped his nose with her finger.
It was such a silly thing to do, but it made him smile. Because it was Cara and she would always walk to the beat of her own drum.
“Didn’t you say you have a studio here?” She turned, shot glass in hand, and peered around the apartment.
The entertainment center took up most of the exterior wall, leaving a little room for his dining table and gaming shelves.
“Yeah, I’ll show you.” He gestured to the door next to the entry.
She was doing it again. Asking about him. Deflecting with humor, questions and general Cara-ness. If he weren’t so worried, he’d enjoy her antics, but something about it bugged him.
“Wow, cool.” Cara proceeded him into his studio.
The second, smaller bedroom was his editing space. One wall was devoted to being a projection screen while his rig took up the bulk of floor space. He had a futon against the far wall.
“What’s in here?” She opened the closet and peered in.
“My audio booth. It’s pretty homemade, but the acoustics are good.”
“This is so cool, Nate. I’m so happy for you.” And yet, the corners of her mouth turned down and she blinked rapidly.
Shit.
No.
Oh, no.
Nate watched in horror as a single, fat tear slid down Cara’s cheek.
What had he done?
Cara downed the shot in a vain attempt to squeeze the tears back in.
She was pathetic.
Her mother was right.
“Cara—I’m sorry. What is it? What’s wrong?”
Nate stood in the middle of his studio, this world he’d created from nothing but dogged determination and hard work. She was so damn proud of him. And a lot jealous, too.
“Nothing, sorry, it’s the alcohol.” She couldn’t get out of the studio without squeezing past him and Nate was nothing, if not focused.
She should have known since he wouldn’t stop asking her questions this was going to come up. Sure, she’d told him the highlights from the last few years, but talking to him was a relief. She could pretend that he was the cute boy next door, and she the brilliant girl who helped him with homework. But that wasn’t who they were anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time. She just liked to dream.
“What’s wrong, Cara? Why won’t you tell me?” Nate edged closer.
He was going to hug her.
She braced herself, both wanting and fearing contact. And sure enough, Nate gently encircled her with his arms, pulling her in. She hiccupped and squeezed her eyes shut.
God, she was a miserable excuse for a human being.
“Cara, why are you crying? What’d I do wrong?”
“N-nothing.”
He took the shot glass from her and she wrapped her arms around his waist. For so long, she’d thought that if Nate could break out, if the others could be successes, why couldn’t she?
She’d been valedictorian.
She’d tutored the lot of them.
And yet, she was stuck. Her whole life was in a rut and it sucked.
“What’s wrong, Cara? Please tell me.”
“I hate my life.”
“What? Why?”
She let go of him and side-stepped into the too-bright living room.
Nate followed in her wake.
He was the last person she wanted to air her mistakes to, and he was probably the only person who’d listen without ridiculing her.
She considered raiding his freezer for more of that drink. The shame didn’t cut so deep and she did have some of the warm fuzzies deep down. Instead, she went to the big, sectional that sat in the middle of the living room. Probably positioned perfectly between all the speakers for optimal sound, or whatever it was he talked about. She flopped down and kicked off her flats.
Nate shadowed her, perching next to her, watching her.
“I had to move back in with Mom and Denis.” She curled her legs under her and drew circles on the cushions.
“Why?”
“Because my roommate went crazy, wasn’t paying rent and I was scared I’d come back one day to the apartment totally empty. So, I’m back with them.”
“That’s…not a bad thing?”
“Mom says I’m a failure.”
“What?”
“I should start at the beginning.” She sighed and dredged back through. To college. Nate had left for the Navy, and she hadn’t wanted to worry him. “You know my dad left when I was in college? Just up and disappeared on us?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, best we can figure out, he left because he’d taken out so many loans and credit cards in mom and my names that things were going to get bad. That’s why I left Columbia and came home. Switched majors.” She’d had dreams of science and research, doing something grand with her life. Instead, she was an underpaid accountant with no joy in life. Her options at home were limited. She could move away, but then she’d be by herself, trying to survive under the mountain of debt her father had created under her name. It was just too much to do alone. And she couldn’t ask Nate for help, because he’d help her. She didn’t want to burden him. There was likely a way out, but
she’d been floundering for so long that it was hard to see anything but despair.
“What? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” He twisted to face her, his hand splayed on the cushions.
“You were in training. Basic. Whatever it’s called, and I didn’t want to worry you.” She covered his hand with hers, simply wanting to touch him. “I think Mom sees him whenever she looks at me. You know things were bad for a few years before she met Denis?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it just never seems to get better. Everyone who gets me moved away, Mom can’t stand me, I hate my job, I’m just…I wanted to come here and see you guys. Be happy. And now I’m crying again.” She swiped at her eyes.
So much for having a great trip and taking a bit of sunshine back with her.
“I had no idea.” Nate grasped her hand and tugged. “Come here.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her.
When the world had been against Nate, he’d just frowned, dropped his shoulder and rushed forward. When her life hit a rut, she floundered for nearly eight years.
She missed Nate. Their friendship. How he’d always looked at her like she could do anything. She’d never realized how much he’d propped her up, until he had been gone. Now all she had were prom pictures and lop-sided dice to remember him by, and some days that wasn’t enough. Her heart ached when she didn’t hear from him.
Cara loved him.
She had since that day walking home from school when he said they could be friends.
Without him, she was a wreck. A complete and total failure.
All she’d wanted was to come here, and pretend that, just for a day, a night even, this was her world. And he was in it. But it was a lie, and the truth was, being here shone a bright, painful light on her shortcomings.
Cara pulled back, but Nate’s arms tightened around her, keeping her close. He peered down at her, his tawny brown eyes focused on all her imperfections. She never wanted him to see her like this.
Of all the people in her life, he’d always believed in her. Thought she could do great and marvelous things. Wrapped in his arms, though, for this moment, she felt safe. He was her shelter from the shit storm. Her friend, though deep down she loved him in a way that betrayed their friendship.
What the hell?
She’d screwed up everything else in her life.
Eventually, she was going to fuck it up with Nate, too. And then they wouldn’t even have this.
Might as well go down in flames.
She leaned toward him.
He didn’t move.
Now or never.
She pressed her lips to his and curled her fingers over his shoulder. Kissing wasn’t something Cara had a lot of practice in, but she’d read enough to have more than a basic understanding. Her stomach tightened and for a moment she froze.
This—was weird.
Nate wasn’t moving. She was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing.
She’d always imagined a toe-curling, leg-popping swoon of a kiss when it came to Nate. This was more like…Princess Leia kissing Luke Skywalker bad.
Oh, this was bad.
A mistake.
Abort! Abort!
Cara sat back and stared at Nate, staring at her.
Oh, God… Oh, no… This was the worst…
She was going to be sick.
She’d just kissed Nate, like she’d always wanted to, and—
Nate’s hand slid up her side, to the back of her neck. If he strangled her, she wouldn’t fault him.
What was she still doing sitting here? Why wasn’t she—hiding in the bathroom? Taking off down the street to go die in a cardboard box or something? Staring at Nate, staring at her was misery. Could she blame it on the alcohol? Was she that tipsy-drunk?
Wait—
Nate leaned toward her.
He was probably going to take her temperature, ask her if she was sick or something. Because that was Nate. All concern and awesome in one teddy bear package.
She swallowed. All this staring had her eyes drying up and her throat was so tight she could hardly breathe. He was looking at her…weird now. Probably because he thought something was wrong with her.
Cara should say something. Make an excuse. Use her words.
“N-Nate…”
His nose bumped hers and she froze.
What…was—oh!
His lips brushed hers, soft at first.
Was he…?
Nate’s hand slid up, his fingers tangling in her braids, cupping the back of her head. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding onto her.
Was she imagining this?
She had a pretty vivid set of fantasies. Maybe she’d blacked out from all the blood rushing to her cheeks.
Nate’s bit down on her bottom lip. Not hard. But he never did that in her dreams. She sucked in a breath and suddenly his tongue was in her mouth. The arm around her waist tightened, pulling her closer. She fisted his shirt in one hand and slid the other up around his neck.
This—was happening.
It was real.
And swapping spit was so much…hotter…than it sounded in books, when Nate did it.
He let go of her, but his lips didn’t stop moving against hers. Instead, he hooked one arm under her knees and pulled her across his lap. Her head swam. She didn’t quite know which way was up or down, so she kept holding onto him. Her anchor. The one constant in her life.
Nate’s arms wrapped around her again. His tongue flicked into her mouth, then out again.
Was this a sign? Was she supposed to do something? Should she…do it back? If she didn’t, would he stop?
Stopping was the last thing she wanted to do.
She mustered her nerve and bent her head. His lower lip slid between hers. She licked the flesh. That was what he’d done the first time, wasn’t it?
The hand at her hip and the one in her hair tightened.
That was a good sign, right?
Holy shit. Nate was kissing her. And she was kissing him back.
Cara mimicked what he’d done, stroking her tongue into his mouth. He groaned and dug his hand farther into her hair until it almost hurt.
Nate liked that.
But it wasn’t as if she knew what she was doing. At best, her intimate encounters were fairly tame, nothing to get excited over. Nate…deserved better. Someone who could make him happy. And all she did was screw stuff up.
What was she doing?
Why would she rush their friendship down the path to ruination?
For a kiss?
Okay, a really hot string of kisses, but still—was this worth facing the disaster that she’d make of things?
Nate kissed her cheek, her jaw. Her head was spinning, her body too hot, too achy. It was too much. She buried her face against his shoulder and squeezed him.
“Cara? What’s wrong?” He was out of breath and she could hear his heart racing.
She was what was wrong.
“Was it the-the kiss? I’m sorry, shortcake.” He stroked her back and shoulders.
Cara barked an unexpected laugh. Only Nate would remember her ridiculous Halloween costume. She’d made it herself and even used Kool-Aid to dye her hair a bright red that stained the ends for weeks. Still, she’d spent the night sitting on the apartment steps, eating candy with Nate. Memories like those were some of her favorite.
She squeezed her eyes shut. God, she was a wreck. An out of control roller coaster. A disaster.
“Cara?” His voice hit that desperate pitch she hated. The one he got when he was sure he was going to fail a test, that the doctor’s couldn’t fix his knee.
She straightened, one hand on his shoulder, the other covering her mouth. It was strange looking him in the eyes like this. He was so much taller than her she was constantly breaking her neck trying to get a glimpse of him. This was…kind of nice.
“I’m sorry, shortcake.” He pushed her hair off her face, his touch ever gentle.
“I’m the
one who’s sorry, Nate. I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” Deep lines creased his brow and around his mouth.
“I screw everything up.”
“No, you don’t, that’s silly. You’ve had a really rough run of it, but things get better.”
She shook her head. He didn’t understand.
Nate stared at her, the concern written in his eyes.
“I mess up all the good stuff in my life. I’m bound to ruin us, too.” She covered her face with her hands.
“Why would you say something like that? Cara? Look at me.” He wrapped his hands around her wrists and tugged.
“Because.” She gave up the fight and let him pull her hands down between them.
“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, shortcake. What’s wrong?”
“I’m a total failure. Mom’s right.”
“No, she’s not. You’re brilliant and funny and beautiful. You’ve just had a bunch of bad luck. I wished you’d have told me how bad everything was.”
“You were in training, and then you were hurt, and then you were working so hard, and…” She shrugged.
“I always have time for you, Cara, don’t you know that?” His thumbs rubbed against the backs of her hands.
Time for her wasn’t the same as time with her. Her heart ached at the thought of him seeing her empty, lonely life.
She wanted to forget. If only for a moment.
“Would you kiss me again?” Her cheeks heated, but she was desperate.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Cara-bear.” He sat back, his face going blank, his eyes empty.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a man and you’re a woman.”
“So?”
“Because…” Nate scowled. “When I kiss you, I’m not doing it as your friend.”
“Oh. So?”
“Cara.”
“What? What if I don’t want you to kiss me like your friend? It’s not like I kiss Josh or Bryan.”
Nate’s hand on her knee tightened, reminding her that he wasn’t just a giant teddy bear. He’d also been one hell of a football player and almost a Navy SEAL. There was strength in his grip.