Page 14

Fourteen

RIZZO

“Where do you want this one?” Shep asks, pointing to another box. The movers delivered all my stuff and had offered to unpack everything for me, but I’d been in such a shit mood after that night with Nat, I’d declined and all but kicked them out. I’d tipped them all extremely well, so hopefully they weren’t too disgruntled over my less than sunny disposition.

“I don’t care,” I say, rubbing my eyes and leaning my arms on the kitchen island.

“Dude, what is your deal? Are you having buyer’s remorse or something?”

“What? No, it’s not that. I love the house.” I really do. It feels like home in a way that the apartment never did. I had to actually buy furniture, of course, but with Mac’s help, it turned out to be fun and I got stuff I actually like. Part of me had wished it was Nat with me the entire time we were shopping, but I’d told that part to shut the fuck up and stop being stupid. I don’t know why she’d flipped the script so effectively in a matter of seconds that night, but neither of us have been ready to go right back to being friends and acting like nothing happened yet. We will, of course. We’re both adults and both of us are perfectly capable of moving on, but I, at least, need a little time first.

“Then I’m assuming it has to do with a certain blonde-haired, gray-eyed girl we know?”

I groan and he laughs, heading to the fridge and grabbing a couple of beers. He walks into the living room and slumps down into one of my new leather chairs, grimacing ever so slightly at his broken rib. He holds one of the bottles out into the air in my direction. I roll my eyes but head over and snatch the bottle before throwing myself dramatically into the other chair.

“So, what’s up?”

“I don’t even fucking know, man.” I tell him about the other night, how everything had been great and then Nat just did a complete one-eighty. I really didn’t think knowing she was the only woman to ever be in my apartment would be upsetting. Hell, I thought it would make her happy , actually. I really don’t understand women for shit, apparently.

I take another long sip of beer, glancing around the living room and to the view out the back windows. All the hassle of moving is one thousand percent worth it for this, to finally feel like I’m where I belong. I’m ignoring the little voice in the back of my head saying that I wish I wasn’t here alone…

“I thought I was the one who had a commitment phobia, but it sure as shit seems like she does too.”

Shep takes his hat off and runs a hand through his hair before tugging it back on again, looking thoughtful.

“Maybe she just actually really likes you and is scared to let herself hope that maybe you mean this whole dating thing.”

“But I do mean it!...I think?” I add, frowning. I mean, I do. I really do want to try for more with Nat, I think, but there’s also a part of me that’s terrified of it. “I’ve stopped fucking around with other chicks already since we started whatever the hell this is. That has to count for something, right?” Shep chuckles.

“For you? It absolutely should. I don’t think you’ve ever gone more than a few days without some new chick riding your co?—”

“Ok, ok, I get it, asshole,” I cut in, throwing my bottle cap at him. He snatches out of the air with those annoying goalie reflexes—great on the ice, but when I want to ding him in the head with a bottle cap, they turn out to be a pain in the ass. He laughs at my annoyed expression and runs the fingers of his right hand over the tattooed knuckles of his left. I really think I need a tattoo …I shake myself. Now is not the time for distractions.

“But even more than that, I went over and took care of her when she was sick a few days after the Kodiak game.” His brows rise at that. “When in the fucking history of me have I ever taken care of someone like that. Someone other than you. You don’t count. I mean someone of the female persuasion.”

“Never,” he agrees.

“See! So, it should be obvious that I’m serious, right? That I’m really willing to give this a real shot?” I sigh heavily. “Or maybe it’s not. Maybe I have to be an adult and come out and say it? But now I can’t. I have to just leave it be then, right? She said she was done, so that’s it.”

Shep eyes me thoughtfully.

“I think you give her time to figure out what’s going on and then see what happens. Maybe she’ll surprise you. She might have a whole host of her own reasons why she flipped out, you don’t know. She might have a psycho ex or something like Mac.” I can see the fury in his eyes at the thought of Hattie’s ex-boyfriend who is a real fucking piece of work. I thought I’d known enough before, but now I know so much more and would gladly put the bastard six feet under with a smile on my fucking face.

Does Nat have something in her past that’s making her unsure about this whole thing? Maybe it has nothing to do with me at all. And now I feel like a conceited ass for assuming it was all about me. To be fair, it usually is, but every now and then, I do take a backseat.

Changing subjects, I ask Shep if he’s ready for the Christmas party next week and in no uncertain terms, ask if he’s ever going to get around to telling Mac how he feels. He ignores the question and I tell him he’s an idiot, not for the first time.

“You remember we’re all meeting up for drinks tomorrow, right? So you’re going to have to play nice with Nat.”

I roll my eyes. “As if I would be anything but perfectly cordial.”

“Don’t be cordial. Be yourself. Whatever y’all have going on, you better figure it out. The group isn’t breaking up, alright?”

I snort. “Did you just say ‘y’all’?”

He grins at me. “It rubs off on you, what can I say?”

Drinks are…fine. Nat and I both do an alarmingly great job of acting completely normal. We hug hello. We laugh. We play darts. We pick songs on the jukebox. No one would ever know that we’re in the middle of a confusing ass post-hook-up situation.

“Look, Rizz, about the other night?—”

I hold up my hand. “Water under the bridge. It’s fine, Nat. Really. I get it. I won’t push for more again, I promise.” I give her a winning smile and make a cross over my heart to seal the vow. She doesn’t look relieved like I think she will, and that gives me stupid hope that maybe she’s not set on this whole being done thing either. Do I know if I want to be in an actual, adult relationship? Not completely. But do I know that I can’t stop thinking about Nat and would give my left nut to touch her again? Abso-fucking-lutely. I have no idea where that leaves us, but really, it doesn’t matter because I wasn’t lying: I’m not trying again. She made the choice to be done. She’ll have to be the one to choose otherwise.

But damn if I don’t want her to choose otherwise.

She clears her expression and posts on a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I get the feeling suddenly that she’s very used to putting on a facade for people, to pretending to be fine when she’s really not. But why? I feel like there’s so much I still don’t know about Natalie Morgan and wonder if she’ll ever really let me in, whether as a friend or otherwise.

“Another round?” she asks brightly, gesturing to my empty bottle. I nod and she grabs the rest of the empties from the table, waltzing to the bar, nudging Jules in the shoulder on the way where he and Bobby are playing pool. I let out a long exhale, wondering how long it’ll take before this whole thing gets easier.

My guess: fucking never.

The Christmas party is a special kind of torture. It’s a good ass time, as always, but seeing Nat looking that fucking good and having to act like I don’t notice or care is almost impossible. She’s in a tight, deep crimson number and sky-high heels that I would love to have digging into my back right about now. I clear my throat and tear my gaze away from where she’s dancing with Nowski and ask Mac to dance with me. She eyes Nat, but shrugs and accepts.

I twirl her around the floor and she laughs breezily. I dart a surreptitious glance at Nat to see if she’s watching, to see if she’s jealous like the teenage idiot I am deep down. She’s watching, just like I hope, but quickly pulls her gaze away when our eyes meet. Mac doesn’t miss the exchange and rolls her eyes, but remains silent. She has no room to talk.

I dance with Kasey, one of our trainers, and a couple of other girls, but all the while my gaze searches out Nat. It’s very fucking inconvenient. We end up next to each other and partnerless somehow when the next song starts, and so I hold out my hand in invitation. We’re friends after all. It’s pretty much expected that we’d dance. She slides her hand into mine and I force the small shiver of pleasure away. We start to spin slowly, and I make sure to keep far more distance between us than the last time we danced. Memories of her in those cut offs and that tiny shirt seep in but I stop them in their tracks.

“Having fun?” I ask because if I don’t say something, my lips will try to occupy themselves in other ways, no matter what I promised myself.

“Yeah, it’s a nice party.”

“They go all out every year. It’s a great organization.”

“It really is.”

“Thank you, for helping to save it.” She blinks in surprise. “I don’t think I’ve ever said it, but I mean it. I don’t know what I would have done if the team got sold, honestly.”

“Oh,” she says softly, her gaze holding mine before drifting slowly to my lips. “I’m glad you aren’t going anywhere…” I feel it, that undeniable force between us, demanding and pulling and?—

“Kiss!”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

We both jump as if electrocuted, jerking our heads towards the commotion, only to realize that no one was yelling at us .

“Oh, shit,” Nat breathes, and my chest squeezes uncomfortably as we watch Mac watch Emery (the surprise blind date Kasey brought for Shep) kiss him under the mistletoe. Mac looks like someone just punched her right in the stomach. She quickly bolts from the dance floor, but no one else seems to notice—they’re all whooping and hollering and egging Shep on. I know without a doubt that he’s not into it and I feel bad for the guy. Nat gives me a worried look and I nod, telling her I understand, and she rushes off to find Mac.

Shep pulls away and smiles at Emery, though it isn’t a real one, and gives her an excuse me for one second gesture. He storms my way, looking shocked and upset and uncomfortable.

“Drink?” I ask, turning to fall into step beside my best friend and knowing exactly what’s going through his mind. He saw Mac’s face before she bolted. He knows how upset she is. He’s thinking he might have just fucked everything up before it even got a chance to begin.

“Make it a double.”

Mac does a great job of acting fine the rest of the night, but knowing her as well as I do, I can tell that she’s actively avoiding Shep. Not that I blame her. I’m pretty much doing the same thing with Nat. As the night starts to shift from swanky, sophisticated Christmas party to Saturday night in the club, I see her preparing to make her exit and I head her way. I need a little break myself after watching Nat laugh with some tool from Accounting. Ok, I know that’s not fair. He’s probably a perfectly nice guy, but right now, I don’t want to see him making Nat laugh like that, or watch her lay her hand on his arm so casually. I don’t think that I’ve ever been jealous in my life, but right now, I’m beyond jealous of the dude. I grind my teeth, knowing I’m being absolutely ridiculous, so I bee-line for Mac. I need to get out of here for a while.

“You leaving?” I ask low in her ear and she jumps a little, making me grin. She swats at my chest but nods.

“I think I’m all partied out for the night.” I follow her gaze as she watches Shep across the room talking to Howey and his wife, the two looking…off. I know they hit a rough patch not too long ago, but they’ve been trying to work out it out. I’m not sure how well it’s going based on that body language—both of them look like even standing near each other is uncomfortable as hell—but props to them for trying I guess. Mac quickly pulls her eyes away and focuses back on me.

“Well, allow me to accompany you. I need to grab something from my room.” I hold out my arm and she laughs before wrapping hers around it, and we head towards the doors.

“Is the thing you need to grab from your room your balls to just suck it up and go after Nat again already?” she murmurs quietly, leaning into me.

My mouth drops open. “I…I mean, it isn’t…I tried… She’s the one who…” I can’t even get a handle on my thoughts to get a full sentence out, and Mac laughs.

“Figure it the fuck out, my friend,” she says with a sympathetic pat on my chest.

“Back at you, Mac,” I say pointedly. I know exactly how much she loves Shep, and exactly how much he loves her back. I know they’re both scared but if they can’t figure it out…well, what the fuck hope do I have with Nat?

“I wish I could,” she mutters as we leave the ballroom. She gives me a hug bye before getting off the elevator on her floor. I didn’t actually need anything from my room, but I don’t really know that I feel like partying anymore either, so I head on up anyway. I walk in and yank off my tie, unbuttoning the top couple of buttons of my shirt before collapsing on the bed. I tuck my hands behind my head and stare at the ceiling. Figure it the fuck out, my friend .

“Easier said than done, Mac,” I mutter, and let thoughts of Nat lull me into a restless sleep.