The Way I Loved You ✓

34. Emily & Nathan

Emily Kingsley was always the main character. She was the protagonist. Little did she knew that she no longer needed to depend on books, movies and songs to fill up the emptiness of her heart, to name the titles of her story. Finally, she can own the title of the chapter of her own story. [Source: Nathan Callahan]

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Fun fact: Emily was sometimes an unreliable protagonist. She has lied to you a lot at the beginning. But as the story progressed, she became honest.

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Chapter Thirty Four: Emily & Nathan

When Nathan finally put me down, I was dripping rainwater onto his floor.
 
“Wow, you are really wet, huh,” Nathan said, looking me up and down.
 
I opened my mouth, and then I closed it immediately.
 
Nathan being Nathan, knew exactly what I was thinking. One corner of his mouth lifted.
 
“What?” He asked.
 
I glared at him, “What?”
 
He leaned closer and whispered, “What are you thinking?”
 
I felt the blush spread through my cheeks and neck. My whole body felt like it was burning, “I’m thinking of nothing.”
 
Nathan’s smirk widened, “Sure.”
 
“Shut up,” I pushed him with my index finger to his chest.
 
“I didn’t even say anything,” He replied, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “It was all you. You’re the one who thought of—”
 
“Shh,” I insisted and rolled my eyes. I looked down to where my finger was resting on his chest, and it was a very, very bad decision.
 
He was wearing a white shirt, and thanks to the rain, it was completely see through now. The way it plastered to his body, the ridges of his muscles, and onto his skin, it made my breathing seize.
 
I had watched scenes like these on TV, Mr. Darcy in that BBC series, Anthony in that Bridgerton scene, to name a few. But my God, reality was a whole other thing. Here was Nathan Callahan, my fascination, standing in front of me in a wet white shirt.
 
Sometimes in the past I had dreamed of this, but my dreams had nothing on him.
 
I could hear his breathing speed up as I eyed him. My mouth salivated, and I had read somewhere that was an indication of desire. Well, it figures.
 
I watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest, like it was a show.
 
“Stop looking at me like that,” Nathan groaned.
 
“Like what?” I looked up at him; my eyes still widened, and my pupil was probably blown. 
 
As he watched me, his own eyes darkened. He swallowed and closed his eyes as if to push away all thoughts and regain control.
 
“Alright,” He took a few steps back from me. “We must maintain a little bit of distance until we have changed into dry clothes.”
 
“What?” I blinked. “Why?”
 
“For my sanity,” Nathan grit out as he turned around. He walked to his closet and opened the doors.
 
As he looked around for clothes, I watched his back muscles flex and ripple under the shirt as the shirt moved with his movement. I could tell I wasn’t blinking. I would blink later.
 
When Nathan turned to face me, in his hands was a pair of sweatpants and a black shirt.
 
A black shirt.
 
“Here,” Nathan said to me.
 
My throat felt heavy. I had always seen this boy wear a black shirt. I never thought that one day, he would want me to wear one of them. This should not make me emotional. But I suddenly felt like tearing up. 
 
I cleared my throat and grabbed the clothes. “Thanks.”
 
Nathan turned to the closet as I put the clothes at the edge of the bed. He handed me a towel, which I used to wipe my face and my arms. I was wiping my hair and debating whether to make a turban on top of my head when I realized Nathan was watching me.
 
He was leaning against the closet door with clothes for himself in his hands and watching me dry my hair.
 
My heart skipped a beat.
 
“What?” I asked this time.
 
He was looking at me like I was doing something extraordinary and not something so mundane and simple.
 
Nathan sighed loudly. His eyes were half-lidded as he asked, “Can I do it?” 
 
I felt a spark travel up my spine. He was asking to dry my hair. Slow down my brain. This was not a big deal.
 
It was a big deal.