#3 Before Jamaica Lane - Page 69 (1/2)

The walk pa.s.sed quickly as we talked about school and movies and books. He was a kid who was kind of taciturn with most people, and it was nice to be counted among the circle of friends and family he was willing to open up to.

Arriving at Jo and Cam’s flat, Cole shoved the door open. ‘I’m home!’

‘We’re in the kitchen!’ Jo called back.

Cole grimaced. ‘I’m not going in there,’ he whispered. ‘Sometimes when they think they’re alone they’re all … affectionate.’

I chuckled under my breath and followed him into the sitting room. He stopped abruptly and I had to sidestep his tall frame to see past him.

If a bus had driven through the wall and slammed into me, it wouldn’t have had any less of an impact than when I saw Nate sitting there. Our eyes collided and Nate slowly stood up from the couch. After a moment of helpless staring, my gaze drifted over him. Sporting a short beard and dark circles under his eyes, he looked exhausted and unkempt. It was so not like him.

‘Sorry, Liv,’ Cole apologized quietly. ‘I didn’t know he’d be here.’

‘It’s okay.’

‘How?’ Nate took a step toward me and I automatically took a step back. He stopped, swallowing hard as his eyes took me in, almost hungrily. ‘How are you?’

Before I could muster up some kind of reply to that stupid-a.s.s question, the loud clack of heels in the hall grew in crescendo as they came toward us, and I turned, my eyes narrowing, as a tall redhead in a low-cut tank top and skinny jeans sashayed into the room in five-inch sandals. ‘That bathroom is gorgeous.’ She smiled politely at me before sidling up to Nate. Her toned arm slid around his waist and she pressed her br**sts against him. ‘Your friends have a really nice flat.’

Heat unlike anything I’d ever felt before flooded me. A fire blazed in my chest, the flames licking my throat and forestalling any words. Instead I just stood there glaring at them in impotent jealousy and heartbreak.

‘Liv?’ I turned at Jo’s voice and found her standing in the doorway, her features slack with surprise. ‘What are you –’

‘Just leaving.’ I cut her off and pushed past her hurriedly, ignoring her calling my name in concern as I slammed out of the apartment and raced for the stairs. I heard the door opening behind me, but I just kept moving, desperate to get somewhere quiet where I could brood and rail and curse Nate Sawyer to h.e.l.l.

‘Olivia!’

Oh, G.o.d.

‘Olivia, stop,’ Nate growled behind me. Close. Too close.

His hand clamped around my arm and I found myself hauled to a stop and turned about to face him.

He stood, a few steps up from me, breathing heavily, his expression panicked. ‘Liv, don’t go.’

I wrenched my arm out of his grip, and immediately felt the phantom of his fingers wrapped around it. ‘Go back inside, Nate.’ My expression was pure disdain. ‘I should have known nothing would keep you down for long.’

To my surprise, his eyes hardened with what I would almost call indignation.

What the h.e.l.l did he have to be indignant about?

‘Pot calling kettle,’ he bit out, taking a step down, bringing him closer to me. ‘I heard you got your library boy.’ He raked his eyes over me. ‘I a.s.sume you f**ked him well and he’s enjoying the benefits of my lessons.’

A punch to the gut would have been just as effective. And probably would have hurt a whole lot less.

He flinched at my expression and ran a hand through his too long hair, his fingers turning into a fist. ‘s.h.i.+t, Liv, I’m sorry,’ he whispered hoa.r.s.ely. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

I turned to leave and promptly found myself caught in his hold again. ‘Let me go,’ I hissed.

Instead he pulled me toward him. The familiar smell and feel of him made me ache. ‘Just tell me you’re okay.’