The Trade(60)

She turns toward me, and I feel like my throat is seizing as I try not to look at what she’s doing or where she ends up. I keep my eyes trained on the TV, my heart hammering so hard.

She scoots closer and from the corner of my eye, I see her hesitate until she takes a deep breath, and scoots even closer only to lift my arm and drape it over her shoulder as she closes the space between us.

Holy.

Fuck.

My body lights up like a million Christmas lights are streaming through my veins, setting them off into a frenzy. My limbs turn numb as her soft hair brushes against my bare arm, her close proximity leaving me uneasy and excited simultaneously.

We both sit there, me stiff as a goddamn pole, her trying to curl into me. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know how to react and she must sense it, because I feel her shoulders sag as she starts to push away. “I’m sorry,” she quietly says and begins to scoot, but not before I catch her arm again.

Her surprised face looks back at me from over her shoulder, her full bottom lip barely parted from her equally full upper lip. Her eyes search mine but I have nothing to say. Instead, I tug her back into the position she just vacated, and I dig deep within the courage of my desperate heart to not only pull her next to me, but to casually drape my arm over her shoulder, drawing little circles on her arm.

It's a simple touch, nothing sexual, nothing to call a best friend about. It’s more friendly than anything, but it’s more than we’ve ever done and for tonight, it’s enough. For tonight, I can go to sleep a happy man knowing the girl I can’t seem to get out of my head is spending one more night in my bed. But this time, she’s finally in my arms. Where I want her to stay.





Chapter Fourteen





NATALIE





“Good morning,” I say, smiling back at Cory who just sat up from bed. The covers fall off his bare chest and if I didn’t know he was wearing shorts under the covers, I’d think he was naked from how low they ride on his carved hips.

Cutely, he presses his palm to his eye and smiles back at me. “Good morning,” he says in a groggy but happy voice. He gives me a quick once-over. “Headed to the pool?”

I pull together the white coverup I’m wearing over my yellow two-piece and slip on my sandals. “Breakfast by the pool. Emory got us all a big cabana.” I smirk. “Didn’t you read your itinerary?”

“Barely.” He rubs his eye again and then lifts his arms over his head to stretch.

Shamelessly I take in the expanse of his exposed skin, the way his muscles flatten out when stretching, but then bunch together when he’s back to normal. He, by far, has the best body I’ve ever seen, and I was curled up next to that body last night. Strong and firm, he held me throughout the show until we both passed out. He didn’t snuggle me, but I felt his warmth through the whole night, something I’ve been craving since we first entered this room. Well, in some ways, I’ve been craving that for about nine months. Being held. Feeling safe. Things I’ve missed so very much.

Last night, with Nicholas, was just as I described it with Cory . . . nice. We talked, we joked, we smirked at each other, but as it got later and later, I kept wondering what Cory might be thinking. What he was doing. I told Nicholas I needed to change out of my dress because I was uncomfortable. I was supposed to meet him on the beach to share a few more drinks. But the minute I walked into the hotel room and saw Cory looking distressed and pained, I knew there was no way I could leave the room again. Not when it seemed like he had been pulling on his hair for the last two hours. I sent a quick text to Nicholas when I got into the room and told him I needed a rain check. A rain check I don’t plan on cashing in on.

Last night felt monumental, even though it was the smallest of victories.

While getting ready for bed, I decided to take one more shot at “making a move” because if he looked that upset when I was gone, I knew there had to be a reason, even if it meant he’d never say what it was. So when I was in the bathroom, I told myself I was going to curl into him.

God, the nerves that rushed through me when I got into the bed. Fear pricked at the back of my neck while my stomach rolled like a tidal wave, almost stopping me from lifting his arm. But after finding courage and instigating positive self-talk, once I’d lifted his arm and draped it over my shoulder, I went from victory to insecurity. In seconds.

He was stiff.

He couldn’t have reacted any worse and I realized, this wasn’t going to happen. He must have been upset about something else. I felt like crying, which is why I went to get up, muttered an apology, and was planning my escape into the bathroom.

That was until Cory grabbed me by the arm and brought me back into his embrace, where he held me, stroked my shoulder, and let me revel in his hold.

Like I said, such a small victory, but so monumental because as I stare down at his sleepy face, I can’t help but notice a different air about him, almost like he’s relieved.

“Are you leaving now?” he asks, throwing the sheets to the side and standing from the bed.

“Uh . . .” Eyes up, Natalie. Eyes. Up. “Yeah, I’m starving. Apparently, it’s family style and food is about to be served. I can wait for you though, if you’re quick.”

“Nah, head down and I’ll be right there.”