Drive(72)

I took a step back. He hesitated and then opened it for me.

He was quiet as he took the streets toward my apartment. I watched him bite his lips, his shoulders rigid, and his eyes straight ahead. There was a reason I rebuked every attempt he made at something more between us.

Reid.

He’s your boss.

Reid.

Your future could depend on doing well at his paper.

Reid.

And just like that, I was under water, stifling the flames.

“Hungry?” Nate asked as I caught myself staring at his profile.

“Starving,” I said as my stomach rolled.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Food.”

He chuckled. “That’s helpful. I’ve got a place.”

My phone buzzed.

Lexi: Where are you?

Having a late dinner with the boss.

Lexi: Really? K. See you at home.

Nate looked over at me while I typed.

“My roommate, Lexi. She’s just wondering where I am.”

“I didn’t ask. But did you tell her you were staring at your boss?” he asked with a straight face as he glanced over at me.

“Wow, what an ego,” I said with an eye roll. “I wasn’t staring at you.”

We pulled up to a Greek hole-in-the-wall with an Open All Nite sign. He put the truck in park and turned to me. “Don’t throw those fucking signals at me, Stella, or you’re going to find yourself on the right side of my bed.”

“Why the right?”

“Because I sleep on the left,” he said as he leaned in. “And you’ll sleep on the right. Every man needs a right girl.”

“Nate—”

“I don’t play games. I don’t have time for them. I’ve wanted you since the minute you walked that beautiful ass into my paper and I’ve made that clear.”

The truck had no air. None. I looked him over, his intensity never wavering.

“The next time you look at me like that, I’m going to make good on at least five of the scenarios I have going on in my head.”

“So, it’s a sex thing.”

“No, it’s a Stella thing.” He leveled me with his stare. The timbre of his voice filled with pure temptation. “I want to split a paper with you over breakfast. I want to find out what your favorite movie is. I want to know everything about you, and despite my best efforts, you’ve given me less than shit. I want you in a million different ways, but when you look at me like that, all I can think of is one.”

My throat went dry as I let my eyes trail down to his clenched fists. “I got hurt.”

“I know. Let’s eat.”





Everlasting Friend

Blue October



Nate sat in the booth, his back to the window, his arm along the back of the booth as the waitress took our order—two gyros and a basket of fries.

“So, what happened?” Reid had asked the same question.

He forgot about me.

I damn near laughed at the irony, and Nate furrowed his brows.

“Sorry, if you only knew how much of a coincidence that question is—was. And I don’t want to talk about it. Ever.”

He nodded.

“And my favorite movie . . . It’s a tie between Pulp Fiction and Xanadu.”

“Xanadu,” he said on a whisper before he gave me wide eyes. “That piece of shit? The eighties movie?”

“Hey! Olivia Newton-John is one of my idols. Olivia Newton-John in an off the shoulder dress with knee socks on roller skates makes her a goddess! Don’t hate on Xanadu.”

“That movie is older than you are!”

“It has the best soundtrack, ever!”

“LAME,” Nate said with a chuckle.

“Well,” I shrugged, “what can I say? I have an old soul.”

“Lame soul.”

“But you know the movie,” I pointed out, sipping my Dr. Pepper.

“I have an older sister and was forced to watch that shit,” he said, pulling on his beer.

“I may never forgive you if you say it’s shit again.”

He rubbed his bottom lip, drawing my attention to it before I darted my eyes away.

“There are roller skates in your apartment. I’m willing to bet my paper on it.”

I shrugged. “Halloween costume.”

“And not a single person knew who you were!”

“The parents did!” I defended. “Well, a few of the moms.”

“A Hispanic girl with long black hair?”

“Latina. And every dark girl wants to know what it’s like to be a light girl at some point in their life.”

“Oh, Stella—” he chuckled as our food was set before us “—you are something special.”

“Act accordingly,” I warned.

“Oh, I’m trying,” he said as he gripped his sandwich and took a bite. “Shit, that’s good,” he mouthed around a mouthful. “Eat.”

“Yes, boss.” I took a bite and moaned in surprise. “That’s delicious.”

“God, so good. Ma’am—” Nate pointed to his sandwich, grabbing the attention of our Nate-thirsty waitress “—I’ll have another.”