Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street, #3)(91)

Instead of being offended, Nate laughed. ‘I remember a time not too long ago when you would have blushed from head to toe saying that.’

‘I remember a time when I thought there was no one else like you.’

That bled the amusement right out of him. We stared at each other in tense silence for a moment until Nate shook his head sadly. ‘I hate that I’m the one who’s done this to you. The Liv I fell for is the kindest, most compassionate and understanding woman I’ve ever met. I’ve made you lose her.’

Although I don’t think he intended it as a barb, it hurt like one and I couldn’t hide the tears that sprang to my eyes. Choking on the crushing sensation around my throat, I turned away, heading for the door.

I heard the sound of his quick movement behind me as I pulled the door open and suddenly his heat was flush against my back, and his hand was above my head, forcing the door shut again. I froze as Nate pressed against me, his hard body so achingly familiar.

‘I know you think I’ve given up, babe,’ he whispered against my ear, and I closed my eyes against the feel of him. ‘But I haven’t. I’m just giving you time to find her again.’

It came to me on swift feet – the knowledge that I would never move on as long as Nate held out hope of a reconciliation. I needed this to be final and yet I wanted just one more taste, so I spun around in his arms, cupped his nape in my hand, and pulled him down to my mouth. I’d forgotten what the taste of him could do to me – I was lost for a moment, drowning in sensation. Nate instantly wrapped his arms around me, hauling me tight against him as he kissed me back, desperate, a little rough, the wet, hot, deepness of our kiss like a euphoric drug taking effect.

I suddenly found myself pushed against the door, Nate’s hands roaming my body like he didn’t know where he wanted to touch me first. When he took hold of the back of my thigh and lifted my leg around him so he could press his erection against me, the heat roared through me. I growled into his mouth and his grip grew bruising.

It was a good thing too, because that slight nip of pain wheedled its way into my consciousness and I somehow found the strength to pull away from him.

Pressing hard against his chest, I forced him back and he released his hold on me.

Tenderly, I caressed his neck, sweeping my hand around and across his jaw, before brushing my thumb over his lower lip. Once my breathing began to even out, I lifted my eyes from his mouth to meet his burning gaze. The tears were back and he became a blur as I whispered, ‘Stop waiting, Nate. I forgive you, okay. I get it, and I’m not angry at you. Not really. Because it’s not your fault. I’m just kind of mad at the situation and I’ve been taking it out on you.’

Nate’s brow creased with confusion. ‘Liv, I don’t …’ He shook his head, squeezing my waist in question.

So I explained.

‘I want a love like what my dad had with my mom. I want what Joss and Braden have. Jo and Cam. Ellie and Adam.’ The tears flowed freely before I could stop them. ‘You already had that with Alana.’

As if I’d shot him, Nate jerked back from me.

‘This may sound selfish and childish, but it’s how I feel. I want to be the love of someone’s life. I can’t be second best. And I definitely can’t be second best for you.’ I reached behind me, turning the door handle. ‘I’m sorry, Nate. I really am. But I can’t spend the rest of my life loving a man who can’t love me back in the same way.’ I opened the door, trying to block out the pain in his eyes. ‘So stop. For the both of us. Please.’

I didn’t give him a chance to speak because I was a coward and I didn’t want to hear the transference of pain in his eyes to his voice. So I left – hurrying down the stairs and out of the house before anyone could stop my retreat.

Later that night I let my dad into my apartment, shooting daggers at him the whole time. His eyes washed over my face, taking in my swollen eyes and puffy nose, and I saw a flicker of guilt pass over them.

‘I thought I was doing a good thing,’ he said quietly and immediately engulfed me in a mammoth hug.

I clung on for dear life. My dad did good hugs. ‘I know,’ I said, sniffling against his wide chest.

He squeezed me tight and kissed the top of my head. ‘Nate didn’t look so good when he came back downstairs.’

Tensing, I squeezed him back. ‘Dad, don’t.’

‘I just want to make sure you’re not throwing away something good out of stubbornness.’

‘You sound just like him.’

‘Maybe he has a point.’

Pulling back, I looked up into Dad’s face with a calm I wasn’t sure I felt. ‘He can’t love me the way I want him to. It would be disastrous for the both of us.’

Dad’s expression softened. ‘Baby girl, you’re not even giving him a chance to prove you wrong.’

‘You don’t know how he talks about Alana. You don’t know,’ I whispered fiercely.

At that, Dad said no more. He gave me one last squeeze and then proceeded to potter about my kitchen, throwing together hot cocoa and a late-night snack.

He stayed until I fell asleep, and the next morning I woke up tucked safe and tight in my bed.

My pillow was damp with tears.

27

Determined to convince everyone I was okay, I spent the next ten days going through the motions. I got up, I got dressed, I went to work, I smiled when I was supposed to, laughed when it was required, was serious when seriousness was appropriate, and hoped to God that my pretense was working. The truth was I felt as lost as ever without Nate, and I was scared and angry with myself. I was terrified that I was never going to find my way back to who I used to be. I felt like I’d lost a limb and hadn’t quite come to terms with it and how different my life would be from now on.