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“Nah, it’s not too late.” There it was again. Some hidden subtext. Some hidden…something. “Assuming it’s not too late for you?”
“Not at all,” I said. “Give me about half an hour to square a few things away and get my employees out of here, then I’ll head your way.”
“See you then,” he said, though he didn’t sound overly thrilled about the idea. After I hung up, I looked at my phone and chewed the inside of my cheek. Then I shrugged. Whatever it was, he’d be easier to read in person.
I clipped my phone to my belt and went into the box office to take care of some last-minute paperwork. Hopefully I was imagining whatever I thought I heard in Nathan’s voice. All I knew for sure was that, after the day I’d had, there was nothing in the world I needed more than a night with him.
I shivered at the thought. There weren’t many things a night with Nathan couldn’t cure. And soon, that was exactly what I’d be having. Just a few more papers, a few more things to tidy up, and I could get the hell out of here and-
Someone tapped on the window. I glared at the opaque window shade. I couldn’t see the person on the other side, and fortunately, they couldn’t see me, so they didn’t know if there was someone in the box office or not.
Another tap on the window.
I rolled my eyes and whispered, “What part of ‘closed’ do you people not understand?” Any time the light was on in the box office, even when the shades were drawn and the closed sign was out, people assumed someone was here. There was a time when I’d help anyone who came up to the window, but a few nights of being here way past closing time just to explain our showings for the next few weeks had broken that habit. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to volunteer myself for anything that might keep me away from Nathan a moment longer.
I carefully moved papers so they wouldn’t hear me. Sooner or later, they’d leave. Hopefully sooner, because I needed to get the hell out of here. As long as someone was standing outside, I ran the risk of getting caught up in a conversation if I tried to leave, so I figured I’d wait them out. I couldn’t even turn the light off yet, because then they would know someone was here.
Voices murmured outside. Shoes scuffed on pavement, but it sounded more like someone shifting their weight or fidgeting than walking away. Get out of here, you’re keeping me from Nathan.
A full fifteen minutes went by before the persistent bastards gave up and left. As soon as they were out of earshot, I grabbed my jacket, turned off the light and headed for the door. It took everything I had not to sprint to my car. Not only was I in a hurry, but the entire world seemed to be conspiring to keep me away from Nathan tonight, and I intended to deny it every possible opportunity to do it again.
I was certain I’d have a flat tire, or the car wouldn’t start, or some gremlins would have stolen my key off the ring, but the tires were inflated, the key was still there and the engine turned over without hesitation.
“Thank God,” I whispered aloud. My tires squealed as I peeled out of the parking lot, and for the duration of the drive to Nathan’s, the universe didn’t put anything else in my way.
It didn’t dare.
Chapter Twenty-one
It was nearly midnight when I finally pulled into Nathan’s driveway. As I got out of the car and went up the front steps, I swore if that projector cut into my sex life again, it was going to learn the meaning of “percussive maintenance”.
Nathan greeted me at the door with a tired smile and a brief kiss that tasted like smoke. Recent smoke.
“Coffee?” he asked.
“Please,” I said, and followed him into the kitchen.
“So what happened tonight? At the theatre?” he asked, pouring coffee as I took my jacket off.
I sighed. “Fucking projector. Crapped out completely this time, and we’ve got a big indie film festival this weekend, so we finally bit the bullet and moved it to one of the smaller auditoriums.”
“I thought you fixed it yesterday.”
“I did,” I said. “I fix the bastard three or four times a week these days. Now I think it’s done for good.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t had to stay late to take care of it more often, then,” he said.
I shrugged. “Well, it-” Then I stopped. I replayed what he’d just said in my mind. No, there couldn’t have been a thinly veiled accusation in his tone. Clearing my throat, I shifted my weight. “It doesn’t always break down at night, you know.”
“Mm-hmm.” He nodded, eyeing me with something that looked a hell of a lot like suspicion. “So what’s wrong with it, anyway?”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering if that tired smile from earlier wasn’t tired after all but half-hearted. Forced. “Are you actually curious about the projector, or are you trying to catch me in a lie?”
He blinked, then folded his arms across his chest and shrugged. “Should I be trying to catch you in a lie?”
“Jesus,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead with my thumb and forefinger. “Nathan, it-”
“Is there anything I should know about?”
I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. I was entirely too exhausted and frustrated to be cross-examined by a damned lawyer. “I could give you a rundown of how to repair a projector, but it would probably bore you into a coma.”
His lips tightened into that almost-snarling line I remembered from the night we met. “Call me paranoid,” he said. “But I’ve heard the ‘I have to work late’ line more than once.”
“And you do know that some people do have to work late, right?”
“Some do,” he said, glaring at me. “And some don’t.”
“What do you want me to say? I’ve given you absolutely no reason to believe I’d fuck around. What do I have to do to convince you to trust me?”
“I don’t know, Zach,” he said. “I mean, look at how things got started with-”
“That doesn’t matter!” I snapped. “Jake cheated. On you and on me. I don’t know how many ways I can convince you that I didn’t know about you, but-” Something shifted in his expression, the skepticism in his eyes deepening, and it infuriated me.
“How do I know you’re not playing me for an idiot right along with him?”
My jaw went slack. “What? You think I’m cheating, and you think I’m doing it with him?”
He shrugged, the intensity in his glare not faltering for a second.
“Christ, Nathan,” I said, barely containing my anger. “If I still wanted that bastard, do you really think I’d have ditched him in the bar and come after you that night?”
Dropping his gaze, he said nothing.
“Don’t you get it? Why do you think I came after you that night?”
“Why did you?”
“Because I wanted to apologize. Because I felt bad. I still do.” I shifted my weight. “But I’m not going to keep apologizing if it’s falling on deaf ears. I’m sorry you were hurt, but so was I. You’re blaming the wrong guy.” I took a breath, trying to keep my temper in check, but I was close to losing it. “I told you in the begi
“Do you know how many times he was ‘working late’ and actually went to you?”
“And how many times have I lied about working late to go to him?” I threw back. “He was the liar, Nathan, not me.” He started to respond, but I wasn’t finished. “We aren’t even in an exclusive relationship, for God’s sake. This was supposed to be a rebound thing, not playing for keeps. What would I possibly have to gain by lying to you if I was sleeping with someone else? If I wanted to see other people, I’d fucking tell you.”
“So are you?”
“No!” I threw up my hands. “Fuck, how much clearer can I make it?” I paused, trying to calm down. Through my teeth, I said, “Let me ask you this: Have I ever given you any reason to doubt me? Have I given you any reason to think I’m lying to you?”