The Other One

Chapter 3

Third chapter. Thank you for reading, guys! :]

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+Cake

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Lizzie woke up feeling the most comfortable she'd ever felt in her entire life. She shifted, wrapped her arms around whatever it was that was so perfect and warm, and nearly suctioned herself to it. Wow. She must've gone pillow shopping. This was great. She snuggled closer to the thing - though she was so close already that it was almost impossible to get any closer - and ran her fingers over the soft fabric of a shirt.

Wait. A shirt?

As soon as Lizzie figured out what she was doing she attempted to fly out of the bed and flee the guest room entirely, but Nathan's arms locked around her stomach and pulled her back into cuddle position before she could even sit up.

"I quite liked what you were doing before," he murmured, eyes still closed, a wide grin on his face. She flushed bright red and scowled down at him just as he opened his eyes.

"I thought you were a pillow! You should've said something!"

"But I didn't want to say anything. You're very warm," he stated simply, and pulled her down so she was lying flush against his body. If her face got any redder she could be advertised in the produce isle of the grocery store as a tomato.

"I know. When I sleep around other people I'm the human heater," she mumbled. "Hopefully I didn't get all sweaty on you... did I?" Nathan shook his head. Lizzie exhaled in relief and rested her cheek on his muscled chest. The soft glow filtering into the room from the rising sun and the heat of Nathan's body made Lizzie's eyes start to close sleepily, but then she remembered breakfast and all thoughts of falling asleep again went straight out the window. "Oh! Nathan, do you like French toast?"

"What? Did you import French bread just for me?" Lizzie stared in disbelief at his confused expression, and when she realized he was serious, laughed out loud.

 "You don't know what French toast is?!" Nathan looked embarrassed and hesitantly shook his head. "It's great! I am definitely going to go cook you some. Lemme go so I can grab everything to make it for you." She wiggled her way out of Nathan's surprised grasp, beamed a happy grin, and sprinted down the stairs, green pajama pants shifting to reveal creamy legs.

Nathan stared after her, wondering what exactly was going on. He'd never done anything like this in his life. In fact, he had a reputation for keeping as little emotional attachment as possible with the women he got involved with. He hadn't even been in a steady relationship since the ninth grade.

The covers fell to rest around his hips as he thought about Connor. His best friend. Well, actually, he didn't know what Connor was anymore. Nathan was not fond of liars or cheaters. Nathan may've slept around a lot, but he'd never cheated on anyone and he always told the honest truth. Apparently Connor wasn't doing so well. A knot formed in Nathan's stomach as he thought about Madi, the pretty, smart, golden-haired woman who was Connor's high school sweetheart and wife. She deserved a cheating husband about as much as Lizzie deserved a cheating boyfriend - which was the same as saying not at all.

He had absolutely no idea how to deal with the situation that Connor had created in having his affair with Lizzie. Especially when he was getting random explosions of attraction whenever he so much as looked at her. That probably wasn't a good thing.

What had Connor been doing anyway, dating Lizzie? She was the long-term, loving relationship type, and was also quite obviously shattered at the news that her boyfriend was married. Affairs were never had with women like Lizzie.  Connor should've chosen a woman who wouldn't care, not someone as sensitive and loving as the woman cooking him breakfast downstairs. Connor's poor choices were causing Lizzie a lot of hurt and sadness, and, knowing Lizzie, a lot of anger in the very near future. He crossed his fingers and hoped he wouldn't be in the same room when she randomly combusted.

He leaned against the headboard and dropped his face into his hands, groaning. This all wouldn't have happened at all if he hadn't happened to be at the beach at the same time as Connor and Lizzie. He would still be trusting Connor, would never have to worry about his sudden attraction to Lizzie, and could go on living his easy life as a mechanic. Obviously it would've been preferable, but he couldn't help being kind of happy it had happened. He'd met Lizzie, and that made the more unfortunate things fade slightly into the 'less important' category.

The smell of syrup and something delicious wafted upstairs and into the room, and Nathan crawled out of bed and sniffed his way downstairs. Lizzie stood at the stove, deftly flipping something over in a cast-iron pan. Seeing her standing over there, in her soft green pants and a tight white camisole, Nathan's heart gave a little tug, and he couldn't help wrapping his arms around her small waist and resting his chin on her head. She smelled like lilacs and rain and he wanted to bury his nose in her crazy morning hair.

"So you've seriously never had French toast?" Lizzie asked as she leaned into Nathan's chest. The man was very well-muscled and warm, and she tingled pleasantly wherever he touched her. If only she was brave enough to turn around, and lift her face just the slightest bit upward... No, no, no, she chided herself. There will be none of that. Men are only trouble. Don't even think about it Lizzie, he'll just break your heart and lie to you. Just like Connor. 

"Nope," Nathan peeked over her bright red curls to see something that looked like a splotchy piece of bread. "But it obviously has something to do with bread." Lizzie rolled her eyes.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Well, it looks kind of questionable... Please tell me it doesn't contain any vegetables."

"Nathan, this is French toast. You stick a piece of bread in some egg and fry it in copious amounts of butter. It's usually eaten with powdered sugar and maple syrup, and it's actually pretty bad for you. I can offer you some strawberries to eat it with, but I promise you there are no vegetables." She slapped the French toast onto a clean plate and handed it to him.

Nathan sat down at the table and poked the toast with his fork, looking at it suspiciously. He looked just like some of her kindergarten students when she brought in cookies they hadn't tried before, and she had to fight the urge to laugh. Lizzie slapped another piece of bread onto the pan and left it to fry, crossing the kitchen to lightly tap him on the head with the strawberry case. "Oh, just try it, ya ninny. If you don't like it, I'll eat it."

Lizzie flipped the toast and turned around to find Nathan's plate empty and a comically astonished look on his face. She rolled her eyes and giggled.

"That was... delicious! Make me another one," he demanded, giving her a stern look that was cancelled out by his laughing eyes. She obliged, dropping the fresh French toast onto his plate, and laughed at his delighted expression.

"It's just French toast, silly. You should put something on it this time. It's better with syrup."

But Nathan was too busy stuffing his face to even realize she'd spoken.

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Lizzie hopped downstairs around ten a.m., freshly showered and dressed, to find Nathan waiting patiently by the front door.

"Thank you so much for doing this, Nathan. I usually take the bus, and they tend to be later than they're supposed to be," Lizzie said, and made a face as she climbed into the passenger seat of his black muscle car. "I owe you one."

Nathan's wink and wicked grin made Lizzie's stomach flip. "I'll let you know what I want in repayment later."

Her eyes widened and she turned towards the window to hide her blush. Urg, he'd made her blush more in the last day than she usually did in a week.

He dropped her off at the elementary school and sped off as she opened the front doors.

Hanging her coat up in the mud room, Lizzie was determined to only think about her kids. She wouldn't allow her negative feelings leak into her happy time with her students; even though Nathan was no longer there to magically make her forget all the bad things, and she felt rather like a lit stick of dynamite whenever she thought about Connor, she would be normal.

At least for the next few hours, she wouldn't think or feel anything but the joy of being with the children.