Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street, #3)(41)

I shrugged.

We were quiet for the rest of the night, I think mostly because I was lost in my own thoughts. When it was time to head home, as usual Nate insisted on walking me. I hugged the girls good-bye and said good night to the guys, then followed Nate down George Street in the gorgeous heels that were starting to pinch.

‘So …’ I tried for breezy. ‘It looked like you got a number tonight.’

‘The blonde.’

I snorted. ‘Is that her name?’

He slanted me ‘a look.’ ‘It’s the only name I need to know.’

In that moment I really had to try to remember why he was the way he was so I didn’t call him on his asshattery. Tonight he would drop me off at my flat and then he’d call up the blonde girl, go meet her wherever, screw her, leave her, and then delete her number from his phone.

It was not a good way to live, but it was the way he chose to live, and I had to respect his decisions. If he was just your regular old player I’d give him a lecture until his ears bled, but every time I thought of it now, I thought of the tattoo he had inscribed across his chest.

The closer we got to my flat, however, the more uneasy I grew, and as I remembered the hurt and fury that had ripped through me at the sight of him flirting with the blonde, it occurred to me that maybe it wasn’t that I was uneasy at his choices, but at the thought of him leaving me to go screw some stranger.

I didn’t even want to analyze that.

Yet, as we came to a stop outside my building, I found myself saying his name quietly.

‘Aye?’ he asked, shoving his hands in his pants pockets.

Staring into his handsome face, I reached somewhere deep within me for the courage I needed to ask him the question that had been burning inside me since we’d kissed. I led with, ‘When we kissed it helped.’

He gazed back at me, waiting silently for me to make my point.

I cleared my throat, taking a mental bat to the swarm of butterflies that had erupted in my belly. ‘I felt better,’ I said, attempting to explain. ‘I felt … more confident.’

‘What are you trying to say, Liv?’

Where was another whisky when I needed it?

‘Um.’ I wet my suddenly dry lips. ‘I want you … I want you to teach me how to be … good at sex.’

Nate’s focus sharpened and he asked with a surprising calmness, ‘In theory or in practice?’

‘Practice.’

The silence between us stretched so long that my butterflies were now multiplying at an unbelievable rate. Mortification and regret mingled as I began to feel awful for even asking, for putting him in that position. ‘Nate –’

‘How much have you had to drink?’

A little affronted at the insinuation, I shook my head quickly. ‘I’ve only had a few whiskies. I’m not drunk.’ I took an apologetic step toward him. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to. We can –’

Nate pressed a silencing finger against my lips and I abruptly shut up. ‘You are one of my closest friends. I don’t want to do anything that might ruin that.’

Ignoring certain feelings – and by ‘ignoring’ I mean shoving them into the deep, dark depths of me – I concentrated purely on the thought of my own chrysalis as I hurried to assure him. ‘If I promised it wouldn’t, would you think about it? I just … I want to feel like I know what I’m doing. If I do, I feel like I’d be able to approach Benjamin with confidence, knowing that if he said yes to a date and afterward, if the date went there, it wouldn’t be this traumatic, nerve-racking thing for me. I trust you, Nate. And it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship,’ I added with a small smile, which he returned with one of his own.

‘So, let’s get this straight. You want me to f*ck you in order to teach you how to f*ck another guy?’

‘You make it sound so sordid.’

With a sigh, he leaned forward and pressed a sweet kiss to my forehead. ‘Go to bed, babe. If you still feel the same way in the morning, ask me again.’

‘It was hard enough asking you the first time,’ I muttered under my breath as I turned to unlock the door to my building.

Nate heard and I felt his strong hand on my hip, his heat at my back as his breath whispered over my ear. ‘It was brave, Liv.’

I looked back at him, a small grateful smile on my lips.

‘Dutch courage or real courage, I guess we’ll find out tomorrow,’ Nate said.

And then he was gone, and the cold wind rushed over my skin as he left me unprotected at the door. I hurried inside, my heart fluttering as though a thousand of the butterflies in my stomach had escaped into my chest to cause havoc there too.

Those butterflies kept me company the whole damn time I struggled to fall asleep that night.

11

I did drift off to sleep, waking up a little after noon, just in time to shower, get dressed, and wait for Dad to stop by the apartment and walk with me to Elodie and Clark’s for Sunday lunch.

In the hours before sleep, though, I had time to really think, as Nate suggested.

I came to one conclusion: I wanted to see this through. I even felt I had to. But … what I hadn’t considered when I blurted out my request to Nate was our friends. We were a pretty tight group, and although I was sure Nate and I could contain it, I was a little worried about any impact that this would have on the dynamics of our group. I was also more than a little worried that I was overly confident in my belief that Nate and I should jump into this deal and it would all be okay.