Lock and Key(98)

“It’s just a jacket,” I told him, pulling my seat belt over my shoulder. As I did so, I glanced at Gervais, who was studying me, as well. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, shrinking back a little bit in his seat.

I sighed, shaking my head, then looked over at Nate, who was just sitting behind the wheel, a half smile on his face. “So what’s the occasion for the makeover? Got a hot date for Valentine’s or something?”

“Nope,” I said, and he laughed, shifting into gear and pulling away from the curb. As we came up to the stop sign at the end of the street, though, he reached over, squeezing my knee, and kept his hand there as we turned onto the next street.

It was February now, which meant Nate and I had been doing whatever it was we were doing—dating, making out, spending most of our free time together—for over a month. And I had to admit, I was happy about it, at least most of the time. But regardless of how well we were getting to know each other, there was always the issue with his dad, the one part of himself he still held back and kept from me. It was only a single thing, but somehow it counted for a lot. Like even when things were as good as they could be, they could only be good enough.

Such as Valentine’s Day, which was less than twenty-four hours away. Normally, I’d be happy to have a boyfriend (or something close to it) on the very day you’re made to be very aware when you don’t. But even as Nate hinted at his big plans for us—which, by the sound of it, were secret, detailed, and still in development—I couldn’t completely just relax and enjoy it. Rest Assured had run a special promotion for gift baskets and flower delivery for its customers, and the response had been overwhelming. As a result, they were booked fully for that day, just like on Thanksgiving, and I’d not forgotten how that had turned out.

“It’s going to be fine,” Nate had assured me the night before, out by the pond, when I’d brought this up. We’d taken to meeting there sometimes in the evening, between our respective homework and work schedules, if only for a few moments. “I’ll do deliveries all afternoon, be done by seven. Plenty of time for what I have in mind.”

“Which is what?” I asked.

“You’ll see.” He reached over, brushing my hair back from my face. Behind him I could see the lights from the pool flickering over the fence, and even as he leaned in, kissing my temple, I was distracted, knowing that he was supposed to be over there, assembling gift baskets and that any moment his dad might wander out and find him gone. This must have been obvious, as after a moment he pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You look worried.”

“I’m not.”

“Look,” he said, his expression serious, “if this is about my gift . . . just relax. I’m not expecting anything phenomenal. Just, you know, super great.”

I just looked at him, regretting once again that in a moment of weakness a few days earlier, I’d confessed to Olivia—who then had of course told Nate—that I was stressing about finding the right thing for him for Valentine’s. Her loyalty aside, though, the truth was that having dropped the ball at Christmas, it seemed especially important to deliver something good here, if not phenomenal.

“It’s not about your gift,” I told him.

“Then what is it?”

I shrugged, then looked past him again, over at the pool house. After a moment, he turned and glanced that way as well, then back at me, finally getting it. “It’s fine, okay? I’m off the clock,” he said. “All yours.”

But that was just the thing. Even in these moments— sitting by the pond with his leg linked around mine, or riding in the car with his hand on my knee—I never felt like I had all of Nate, just enough to make me realize what was missing. Even stranger was that with anyone else I’d ever been with—especially Marshall—what I was given, as well as what I gave, had always been partial, and yet that had still been plenty.

Now, we pulled into the Perkins lot, and Gervais jumped out, bolting for the building as always. As soon as the door shut behind him, Nate leaned across the console between us and kissed me. “You do look great,” he said. “So what made you finally break down and spend those gift cards?”

“I didn’t. Cora ambushed me and took me to Esther Prine. I was powerless to resist.”

“Most girls I know would consider that wish fullfillment, not torture.”

I sat back, shaking my head. “Why does everyone keep saying that? Who says just because I’m a girl I’m hardwired to want to spent a hundred and eighty bucks on jeans?”

Nate pulled away, holding up his hands. “Whoa there,” he said. “Just making an observation.”

“Well, don’t.” I looked down at my lap and those expensive jeans, not to mention the shoes I had on with them (suede, not on sale) and my jacket (soft leather, some label I’d never even heard of). Who was this person in these fancy clothes, at this expensive school, with a for-all-intents -and-purposes boyfriend who she was actually worried wasn’t opening up to her enough emotionally? It was like I’d been brainwashed or something.

Nate was still watching me, not saying anything. “Sorry,” I said finally. “It’s just . . . I don’t know. Everything feels overwhelming right now, for some reason.”