He's The Boss

16

It's late at night. I'm sitting out on Nate's balcony, planted in a deck chair with a blanket wrapped around me as I gaze up at the night sky in all its dark beauty.

Behind me, the door slides open, and I know from his movements that it's Nate. He sits down in the chair next to mine, his eyes glinting brightly even though I know it's been a long day for him.

"Well," he starts off with a sigh. "It's a good thing you convinced your sister to stay, but considering the emotional state she's in, maybe it's not such a good idea for me to suggest that she temp for me, after all."

I want to say something about how she's not that weak, that he shouldn't make assumptions like that, but unfortunately, he's not totally wrong. My sister's always been sensitive and easily hurt, and after what happened tonight, I know she wouldn't be able to function, not even in a simple temp job. "Fine," I murmur.

"James seemed really concerned about her."

"Yeah, right."

He blinks at me, looking a little taken aback.

"Sorry. I know he's your friend and all, but come on. He saw a pretty face and thought he could have some fun, and surprise, surprise, it got him in trouble again. Hasn't he learned anything?"

"God, Caitlin, are you always so cynical?"

I merely shrug, even though I have to admit, I don't like the way Nate's looking at me right now, almost like he doesn't know me.

"You're always so quick to blame him."

"And you to defend him. Come on. This is like Dana all over again. And he knew about Maya, so he must have known the relationship was on the rocks. But instead of being sympathetic, he took advantage of my sister."

"I'm not arguing that it was poor judgment on his part. But come on. Try to understand. His life's kind of a mess right now."

"That's no excuse."

"He likes her, Cait."

"He just wanted to get off."

"Stop," he tells me, his voice suddenly serious.

I draw back a little, then look away. "You're the one who brought it up."

He sighs, massaging the back of his neck and causing a noisy little crick. Something about the movement ignites a spark of desire in me, in spite of the fact that we're practically fighting. I stare at him – the smooth planes of his face, the span of chest underneath his collar, the shape of his forearms as they tense inside his sleeves. I want this. I want him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks, almost like he's reading my mind.

Without a word, I get up, shifting to his chair and cupping his face between my hands. I kiss him hard, something in me relaxing as I remember the heat of his tongue against mine.

A soft, low noise sounds in his throat as he tugs down the hem of my top, fingers tickling the curve of my breast.

But then he pulls back, stopping to gaze at me. "This is what you really want?"

"Do you seriously have to ask?" I answer, a little tiredly.

He stands up, then reaches out towards me.

"Hey, what are you doing!" The next thing I know, he's scooped me up in his arms, and I have no choice but to loop my arms around his neck to hang on. Nudging the door open with his foot, he brings me inside, over to his bedroom.

There, he plants me on my feet, only I stumble a little, inadvertently leaning against him for balance.

Nate grasps my hands, holding them both over his chest for a moment. "Sometimes, I wish I could just get you out of my system, once and for all," he says quietly, huskily, his face a little sad.