Page 77 of If Love Had A Price (If Love 3)

Love! Love! I’m in love! Shit!

“Among other things.” Nate kissed her then—a kiss so deep and soulful it quieted her inner freak-out. There was no tongue—hello, there were children around—but Kris melted all the same.

A delicate cough nudged them apart.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Skylar said, grinning. “Everyone’s wrapping up, and I wanted to say bye. Dad’s driving me home.” She gestured at Michael, who nodded at Nate but didn’t come any closer.

Smart move.

“I can take you,” Nate said.

“Nope. I’m going with Dad. You and Kris…do your thing. See you later!” With one last grin, Skylar bounded off in a flurry of tulle and wheat-colored hair.

A visual sweep of the room revealed that the party was, indeed, over. While the band broke down their equipment—Kris hadn’t realized the music had shut off—MentHer staff cleared off the tables, boxed up leftover food, and took down assorted decorations.

“I’m going to help clean up,” she said. “Talk to you tomorrow? I know you’ve had a long day, so don’t feel like you have to stay.”

“It’s all good. I’ll say hi to Elijah and help, too. I’m not tired.”

She watched Nate walk toward his friend and remembered with amusement how the first thing Nate did after they agreed to date was tell Elijah. Blue Hair had been shocked and a bit crestfallen that Kris was no longer available, but he’d quickly gotten over it—he was now casually dating another of the café’s customers, a cute pixie-like girl with green hair. They’d probably bonded over Manic Panic.

It took Kris, Nate, and a half dozen staff members and volunteers another hour to restore the multipurpose room to its former not-so-much-glory. The party rental company needed to pick up the tables and chairs, but otherwise, they did a damn good job of cleaning up.

After Kris thanked the band and bid the rest of MentHer good night, she and Nate stepped out into the mild evening chill.

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” she asked. “You didn’t touch the food all night.”

“Nah. I had a big lunch.”

She fiddled with her purse, feeling uncharacteristically on edge. She wasn’t crazy. Natewasacting weird, and she doubted it had to do with Monday’s shoot.

That, combined with her big L revelation, had her all out of sorts.

“Nate, why’d you ask me whether I’d changed my mind about long-distance relationships earlier?”

His silence stretched between them, turning several feet of physical distance into miles of separation.

Kris didn’t like beating around the bush, and dammit, they had such limited time left. They needed to unscramble whatever mess had popped up between them—she might not know what it was, but she sensed it was there. It was not the time to play coy.

“Look,” she said. “I’ll be honest. When we agreed to date for the summer, Ididn’tbelieve in long-distance relationships. I still don’t…for some people. But I think you and I…” She took a deep breath. “We could make it work. I really like you, and I’m not ready to end things yet. I’m willing to give the long-distance thing a shot if you are.”

Fuck, that had been hard to get out. At least she hadn’t said the L word out loud. She wasn’t ready for that, not when she wasn’t sure if Nate reciprocated her feelings.

There was only so much vulnerability a girl could throw out there in the space of one minute.

And when Nate opened his mouth after her little spiel, she was really freakin’ glad she hadn’t divulged her revelation of the night.

“I can’t do this.”

Not the three words Kris had wanted or expected to hear.

Nate stepped back, his expression more distant than it had been all evening, and that was saying something.

Her heart sputtered and lurched like a car running out of gas after going full speed on the Autobahn, confused as to what was happening but sure it couldn’t be anything good.

“Can’t do what?” For once, Kris couldn’t control the tremble in her voice. “The long distance or the—”

“This. Us.” He gestured between them. “I’m sorry. I like you a lot, but this has always been a short-term thing for me. I can’t do long distance. I have too much on my plate—with my family, with work—and it’s just not going to work out.”