Page 15

Chapter fifteen

Nate

I t’s quiet when I step inside. Not peaceful. Just… still.

Tossing my keys in the bowl by the door, I toe off my sneakers and glance around. The living room glows with the soft amber light of the floor lamp. My stomach growls, but I stop cold when I spot her.

Mandy.

Curled up on the couch, one arm draped over her notes, her head resting on a throw pillow, lips parted slightly like she fell asleep mid-thought. She’s wearing one of those soft cotton Acers T-shirts she stole from my closet and those tiny sleep shorts that should be illegal.

I stand there like an idiot, watching her breathe.

My chest tightens.

She shifts slightly, a soft sound escaping her throat, and I step closer. Her highlighter is still clutched loosely in one hand, her laptop screen dimmed beside her. There are color-coded tabs in a law book on the floor.

Of course she studied herself to sleep.

I grab the blanket from the back of the couch and lean down to drape it over her. She stirs, blinking slowly, her lashes fluttering as she registers me.

"Nate?"

"Yeah, it's me. You passed out cold. Thought I should cover you up."

She yawns, then smiles sleepily. "You always come home this late?"

"Late night’s just part of the job, and sometimes, a guy needs a few hours away from the noise to remember who the hell he is."

She shifts again, this time sitting up slightly. The blanket falls around her shoulders.

"Where were you?"

"Team thing. Post-dinner drinks. Dillon tried to do karaoke. I left before he started serenading the waitress."

Her mouth curves. "Coward."

"No, smart man."

She laughs, but it turns into a shiver. Without thinking, I sit down beside her. The blanket brushes my thigh.

She leans into me.

That’s all it takes.

Her body fits against mine like it was made to. Warm and soft and mine, at least right now.

My hand lifts to brush the hair from her face. "You should get to bed."

"I was cozy on the couch. I studied here since you weren't home."

"You'll be cozier in my bed."

She glances up, teasing. "Is that an invitation, Jones?"

My hand settles at her waist, fingers brushing bare skin where her shirt has ridden up. "Not if you’re gonna keep calling me Jones."

She leans in, her nose brushing mine. "What if I call you Captain Handsy?"

My lips twitch. "Only if you let me live up to the name."

And then she kisses me.

Not a soft kiss. Not a curious kiss.

This one's all heat and want and the frustration of a hundred lingering glances and almost-touches. My hand slides up her thigh, slow and claiming, until she gasps.

She pulls me closer, straddling my lap, and I let my hands roam over the curve of her hips, the small of her back. That T-shirt is thin, but not thin enough. I slide my hands beneath it.

"You're even hotter like this, stretched out across my legs and all mine."

She nods, breathless. "Yes."

I lift the shirt slowly, touching the strip of skin I reveal inch by inch until it clears her head. Her hair tumbles down her back as she sits in just her tiny sleep shorts and a bra that looks way too delicate for my current state of mind.

"Jesus, Mandy."

"That bad?"

I shake my head. "That good. That fucking good."

She laughs, nerves and heat all tangled up, and I reach for her again. My hands span her ribs, my thumbs brushing the swell of her breasts through lace.

"God, you’re beautiful," I whisper.

Her fingers find the hem of my shirt and tug it up. I help her, yanking it over my head and tossing it aside. Her hands splay across my chest, exploring, tracing the lines of muscle like she's committing them to memory.

"I like this version of you," she says.

"Shirtless and desperate for you?"

"Exactly."

I grin and slide my hands down her back again, tugging her forward until our bodies press together. Her skin is warm against mine, and I kiss her like I’m starving. Her hands wind around my neck, her legs tightening around my waist.

I shift us, laying her back on the couch, half-covered by the blanket as I hover over her.

She pulls me down, mouth finding mine again, and I can feel her heart racing under my palm.

I trail kisses down her neck, along the curve of her shoulder, then lower. My mouth finds the top of her breast and she moans, arching into me.

"Jesus, Nate," she whispers, voice shaking. "You're going to kill me."

I grin against her skin. "There are worse ways to go."

Her laugh is breathless, delicious. "Cocky much?"

"Confident," I murmur, brushing my lips across her again. I take her hand and put it on my pants. "You feel that? That’s what you do to me."

I dip lower, trailing kisses across the swell of her breasts.

My teeth find the delicate clasp at the center of her bra, and I tug it open with a slow, deliberate bite.

My mouth covers her, sucking gently, then harder, until her nipples peek and she cries my name like a prayer I never knew I needed to hear.

My hand glides up her thigh, slow and reverent, and I kiss her again, drinking her in.

Her skin’s warm beneath my palm, soft and begging to be touched.

My fingers trail higher, sliding beneath the hem of her loose sleep shorts.

She tenses when I reach the thin barrier of her panties, the heat of her nearly searing through the fabric.

I touch her lightly at first, over the fabric, teasing, until she squirms under me.

Then I slip my fingers in from the side, just enough to feel the slick heat of her, and my pulse slams in my throat.

"Fuck, Mandy..." I murmur against her skin, voice low and wrecked. "You're so damn wet for me."

My fingers find her center, rubbing slow, lazy circles, and she unconsciously parts her legs, a soft sigh slipping from her lips.

But then she stiffens.

Not much. Just enough.

Enough to make me freeze.

Her fingers tighten on my shoulders.

"Nate..."

I lift my head. "Yeah?"

She bites her lip. Her voice is soft, almost too soft.

"I want you... just not yet."

I still.

The air between us goes quiet.

And then I press a kiss to her temple.

"Okay."

She blinks. "Okay?"

I nod. "Then I’ll wait. Just don’t make me wait forever."

I roll off her gently, pulling the blanket up over both of us. She settles against my chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

We lie there, her fingers tracing light circles on my abs. My hand rests on her hip, not moving, just feeling her there.

The fire's still burning in my blood, but I breathe through it.

Because she’s not just another hookup.

She’s Mandy.

And she’s worth waiting for.

Even if she drives me insane doing it.

Even if every part of me wants more.

After a few quiet minutes, I exhale hard and push up from the couch.

"I should cool off before I melt this couch."

She gives me a sleepy smile, curling deeper under the blanket.

I head to the kitchen, grab a couple bottles of water, and then raid the pantry for the big bag of popcorn. I dump a generous heap into a bowl and carry everything back to the living room.

"Figured you could use some nourishment," I say as I set the bowl on the table and hand her a bottle of water. "Bar exam fuel, right?"

She grins, sitting straight up. "You just wanted an excuse to keep me here longer."

"Not denying it."

We sit like that for a while, sharing handfuls of popcorn and watching the flickering light from the muted TV across the room.

Then, out of nowhere, I ask, "Can I ask you something personal?"

She looks up at me. "Sure."

I shift slightly to face her. "You said you were waiting. That you want it to mean something. Was it always like that for you?"

She hesitates, then nods. "Yeah. I don’t know… I guess I always knew I wasn’t going to be the hookup type. There was never anyone I wanted to give all of myself to and risk getting crushed over. Not just physically. Emotionally too."

I nod, slowly. "Makes sense."

She tucks her legs under her. "My sister was the wild one. Party girl. Boys. Drinking. Some people didn’t respect her, especially when we were in college.

It changed as she got older, but I saw what it did to her back then.

And I didn’t want to be a cautionary tale.

I just… I held back. I guess I figured if the right person came along, I’d know. "

"And no one came close?"

She shrugs. "No."

The air stills for a moment. She quickly adds, "Not that I mean…"

"No, I get it," I say. And I do. "But, didn't you ever just want to have some fun and get some experience?"

"I had my fair share of fun, but I never handed over the full-access pass. Your turn. What about you?"

I exhale and lean back into the couch. "College was a lot of fun. I had some hookups and a few short-term relationships, nothing long-lasting. Hockey came first, always. Women liked the status, the attention, the lifestyle. And hell, when I was younger, I liked being wanted. I took advantage of it. Not proud or ashamed, just honest. It was instant gratification and it was great, but now it leaves me… I don’t know, empty. "

Mandy nods like she understands.

"Sometimes I wonder if the other guys feel it too. I mean, we joke and boast and talk trash in the locker room, but deep down, I think a lot of them feel the same. Maybe not James. He seems to thrive in the madness."

That earns a soft laugh from her. "James is a fun and exciting mess."

"Exactly."

She rests her head on my shoulder. "Do you ever think about when the right time is? To let someone in for real?"

"Yeah. I think about it more than I used to. Before, I didn’t want the complication. The distraction. But lately, I’m starting to think the right person isn’t a distraction, they’re the anchor."

She hums softly. "Maybe it’s about timing and the person. I think both have to align."

"Maybe." I glance down at her. "I never thought I’d be into a girl who uses color-coded tabs and finds tort law sexy."

"Excuse you, tort law is riveting."

"If you say so."

We sit in a comfortable silence, until she glances at the clock.

"Holy crap, it’s one a.m.?"

I glance over. "Yup."

She stands slowly, grabbing her hoodie. "I should get to bed."

I walk her to the door. Before she steps into the hall, I catch her wrist.

"Mandy?"

She turns.

I pull her in for a kiss. "You really know how to drive a guy crazy, don’t you?"

She smiles, soft and real. "Good. You deserve it."

As she walks down the hall, I close the door, lean against it, and exhale.

Yeah. Whatever this is, I’m way past the point of pretending it doesn’t matter.