Page 45 of Boyfriend of the Hour

I mirrored his confusion. “Wedo?”

Nathan shuffled on his feet. “I—I’m sorry. I had no idea you didn’t like me, Joni.”

I coughed. “Nathan, I literally told you to fuck off. What did you think that meant?”

His hands pulled at each other, almost like he was cracking his knuckles, but with a more frenetic energy than I’d seen fromhim before. “That you were angry. I didn’t—Jesus. I said I was sorry—what else?—”

It was the first time I’d ever seen him this confused. And upset by it. Like he honestly didn’t know what was happening.

“Hey.” I set a hand on his shoulder, urging him to calm down. My touch seemed to help. “I’m sorry, man.”

“No,I’msorry. I had no idea I’d offended you so badly that you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.” I shrugged. “Or even dislike you. Anymore. Honestly, I don’t really know you. But if it’s any consolation, something has changed in the last hour. You went from being a stiff jerk to just kind of socially awkward.” I glanced at the dance studio. “And nice. I have a feeling that underneath the weirdly direct questions lives a genuinely thoughtful person.”

A warmth entered Nathan’s eyes, and his mouth quirked, suggestive of a shy smile that I had a feeling would melt me into a puddle if I ever saw it emerge. “So, now that I’ve appropriately apologized, how do you feel about me now?”

That you’re so…odd,I thought to myself as the list formed itself in my head.

How I Feel About Nathan Hunt

That by some miracle, he has no freaking idea how handsome he is.

That he’s a walking bag of oxymorons: kind yet cold, warm yet clinical.

That he’s really smart about some things and completely oblivious to others. Just like me.

“I don’t know,” I said finally. “But I think you might be a good person after all.”

That hint of a smile deepened into a full-on suggestion, turning the dimple in his left cheek into more than just a hint. “Well, that’s good. Especially since I’m not the easiest person to live with.”

I sighed. Now, we were getting to the truth.

“I’ll stay out of your hair,” I told him. “Keep my mess to my room, leave my shoes at the door, and I will not touch any of your food or kitchen appliances without your consent. I promise.”

Nathan huffed. “I—well, yes, all of that would be ideal, but that’s not what I meant.”

My brows popped up. “More house rules?”

He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up his nose. It seemed to be a tell of his—almost like he was uncertain. Nothing about his face, his posture, or anything else would have told me that. But I was starting to notice that he pushed at his glasses whenever he was about to say something he wasn’t sure about.

“Hey.” I reached out and pinched his cheek lightly.

He started at the touch but didn’t move away.

I pulled back my hand and offered a smile. “I know we got off to a rough start. But honestly, it doesn’t matter what the rules are. You want me to scrub the floors every Tuesday with a toothbrush? Fine. I’ll do it. You like to walk around naked after nine? You do you, man. The fact that you are offering me a place to stay at all is a godsend, so as long as you aren’t a serial killer, I’ll deal with whatever you need.”