In Case You Didn't Know

Chapter 41

"Let me guess, Abigail?" Nathaniel, who is making us some tea asks when I hang up the phone. "Did she change the color of the bridesmaids' dresses again?" He closes the cupboards after retrieving two expensive-looking porcelain cups. Oh, yes, we're currently intruding at his parents' kitchen. We arrived to Philadelphia less than an hour ago.

"How do you know that?"

"I–I talked to her a few days ago."

"You talked to her?" I quirk an eyebrow at him, suspicious.

"Yeah, just checking in for the holidays and that, you know."

"Really? Oh, because you're friends now." He places a cup of chamomile tea in front of me, not meeting my eyes. "What did you talk about?"

"I told her that you are forbidden to wear red, unless she wants our child to be conceived at her wedding."

"You did not tell her that."

"I did." He sits on a stool in front of me, taking a sip of his own steaming beverage and pressing his lips into a thin line afterwards.

Ever since I found out that him and Abigail are friends, and not because of my own merits, I've been nagging both of them to tell me how such friendship came to be, but all I've gotten in exchange are bits and pieces of how they ran into each other at Stanford last spring and that was about it. I mean, I gathered as much. Of course it was in Stanford, but how? And why? Nathaniel and I weren't together at that time, so it truly intrigues me. What would they possibly have in common to do or talk, and bond over?

"Are you going to tell me how the two of you became friends?"

"No."

"Come on." I make use of the weakness he has for my pouting face, dragging a finger along his chest. "Nathan tell me."

"I kind of like knowing something about Abigail that you don't." The corner of his mouth curls in a teasing manner.

"I hate you."

"Stop nagging me about it and instead rest assured that all your birthday presents are going to be good because I'll have Abi's intel."

"And you're calling her Abi!" My mouth hangs aghast as I point an accusative finger at him. "You don't get to call her that, she's my friend."

"She's my friend too."

"No, get your own. You wouldn't like me hanging out with Roger, would you?"

"I like this possessive side of yours," He sets his hands on my hips, pulling me towards him and trapping me between his legs, "Why hadn't I seen it before?"

"Oh, I can be very territorial."

"Yeah?"

"Hm-hmm." Leaning in, my lips caress the corner of his lips. His hands start descending dangerously from my waist to my backside when I kiss him.

To both our fortune and embarrassment, a grave voice clearing his throat interrupts us. I pull away from him immediately, heat covering my cheeks.

"Dad." Nathaniel stands up, walking towards his father. The men shake hands and hug before their attention shifts to me.

I'm not ready. Christ, I'm so not ready. The looming threat of this moment has been keeping me awake well past midnight for the last week.

"This is Alexia," a sappy, proud smile is covering his lips as he introduces me. "Alex, this is my dad, Conrad."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Rowlins." I will not elaborate on the brittleness of my voice, or the clamminess of my hands, nor the deafening beating of my heart as I stretch out a hand to Nathaniel's father, only to be pulled into a hug.