I TOOK A massive step away from Richard, putting as much distance between us as possible. His hands slipped off my shoulders and fell to his sides.
“Yes,” I said, trying to discreetly brush away the remaining tears in my eyes. If Aveda and Nate thought Richard had just made me cry . . . well, he would be a ghost, just as Aveda promised. “Richard, this is Nate, my husband.”
“Ah, the famous Nathaniel Jones,” he said, giving Nate a way too broad smile. “I’ve seen your photo in the paper, of course, when everyone was covering your blessed nuptials to this incredible woman.” He winked at me, which only made Nate’s glower intensify. “You’re a very lucky man.”
“I’m aware,” Nate muttered.
“I’d best be off,” Richard said, his expression overly bright, striding toward the door. Perhaps he realized he was on the verge of enraging a hulking mass of a man easily twice his size.
I saw Nate’s hands fisting at his sides and hastily crossed the room as Richard headed back down the stairs.
“Hey,” I said, touching his arm, trying to get him to turn his glower away from the stairwell. “What are you doing here?”
“Ooh, that is a story!” Aveda exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Come on, we’ll head back to our room, I’ll tell you all about it. And . . . did you find something?”
She gestured to the red book I was still clutching.
“Maybe,” I said. “But a bunch of pages are torn out, and . . . well. You’ll see.”
“Let’s go,” Nate said, still frowning at Richard’s departing back. His tone was unreadable and his face was a cold mask—I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Except that he maybe wanted to murder Richard.
Join the club.
We filed down the stairs and back to our room. Once we were inside, Aveda started chattering away, bursting to share what had happened.
“So I saw these movements in the foyer, like a shadow creeping around, and I thought it might be a ghost or a burglar or some other kind of evil.” Aveda grinned at Nate and me as she shut the door behind us, her eyes flashing with excitement. “I positioned myself behind a couch, ready to pounce. The shadow moved toward me and then I leapt out from behind the couch—”
“It was terrifying,” Nate interjected, his tone dry.
“—and then I realized mid-leap that it was Nate prowling around the dorm!” Aveda crowed. “He was the one making all that noise we heard! But I couldn’t exactly stop leaping, so I just kind of crashed into him and we ended up making a whole lot more noise. You must have heard us all the way up in the Quiet Room, Evie!”
“I didn’t,” I admitted.
“Oh.” Aveda’s smile dimmed a bit. She was in her most Theatrical Aveda Jupiter mode, digging into her tale with gusto. Obviously trying to soothe the tension. “Well. Anyway. Nate’s here!” She gestured to him in a “ta-da!” type of way. “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit, maybe see if there’s a gym around here. Or just run around campus. I really need to blow off some steam after all that late-night adventuring! Or . . . I know, I’ll check out that book you took from the Quiet Room!” She snagged the big red book from where I’d just dropped it on the nightstand. “Maybe I’ll do all of these things at once, even.”
And with that, she was gone, leaving nothing but awkward silence behind her.
“So,” I said. I shucked off my big jacket and sat down on my bed, trying to think of what came after that. Nate’s impressive glower was still firmly in place. And while it wasn’t trained on me, exactly, I knew he was fixated on that image from the Quiet Room. Richard and me, locked in an almost-romantic clinch.
“Why are you here?” I finally said, looking up at him and trying to get him to meet my gaze.
“I was worried about you,” he said, his expression darkening further. “You left me that . . . rather alarming message. But when I tried to text and call, you never responded—”
“I did respond,” I protested. “I said I’d call you later.”
“Which you didn’t,” he said. “So I texted Aveda, who said you were fine.”
“I am.” I gestured to my obviously uninjured body. “See, everything’s all good, no need to worry. Why didn’t you believe Aveda?”
“Because you and Aveda always protect each other—which includes keeping each other’s secrets.”
He sat down on the bed next to me with a whump, frowning.
“True,” I said. “But I really am fine. We’ve just been busy—this mission has gone in all sorts of weird directions and last night was kind of out of control—”
“Out of control how?” he said, alarm registering in his eyes. “You promised you’d stay safe, take care of yourself—”
“And I am,” I said, trying to keep the snap out of my voice. “We went to this party, did karaoke, I had some non-alcoholic punch, which ended up containing some kind of supernatural truth serum—”
“What?!” he exploded. “From that cup you and Aveda sent over to be tested? And you didn’t think to tell me—”
“I’m sorry!” I yelped. “I just . . . look.” I ran a hand through my tangled hair and resisted the urge to scream. Frustration was bubbling through me like lava, thick and toxic. “I went to Doctor Goo as soon as I thought there was something wrong, and she assured me everything’s fine. She’s also doing further tests on my blood for supernatural components. And yes, I should have called you about that or tried harder to get ahold of you—I’m sorry. Aveda and I were running around all day trying to follow all these leads, and . . . and . . . I don’t know, Nate, we left things pretty badly last time you were here. We kind of weren’t talking, period. Things are just tense between us. And I hate that, but I can’t figure out how to fix it.”
I sat back against my pillow, slightly winded, my shoulders slumping. Despite getting all that out, I felt defeated. Because it was true. I didn’t know how to fix it. I had no idea.
He deflated then, his glower dissipating into something softer. He looked so lost. My heart clenched. There was that tenderness, the gentle heart he kept hidden away beneath so many layers of gruff.
He was hurting right now, and I didn’t know how to fix that, either.
“I don’t know how to talk to you,” he said slowly. “Every time I try lately, it seems to go wrong. I can’t find any of the right words to tell you . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“Tell me what?” I sat up and scooted closer to him, putting my hand on his arm. “Baby, what’s happening with you? Is this about Shasta again?”
“I . . . no.” He shook his head vehemently. “I haven’t heard anything more about Shasta being back. Perhaps it was a false alarm. Rumors coupled with my own overly anxious imagination.”
I squeezed his arm, encouraging him to keep going.
“I think after our last conversation, I realized that you’re not pulling away—I’m pushing you away,” he said. “I am being overprotective, I am smothering you. I know these things logically, but I can’t seem to stop. I can’t just stop worrying about you, Evie. And I’ve never been so worried for you in my life.”
He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders slumping further. I moved my hand to his back, stroking my palm over his shoulder blades. Trying to comfort him.
“I understand that,” I said softly. “I really do. Nate . . . I’m worried, too. I want this baby—I still know that, deep in my bones. But I’m also . . .” I took a deep breath, trying to put into words all the things I’d been scared to say to him. That feelings explosion Aveda had been talking about. “I’m terrified,” I finally managed, my voice very small. “I don’t know if I can do this. If I can handle everything. And now I’m also worried about all the students here. I’ve gotten to know some of them, and I’m scared about all the bad things that might happen to them. The college isn’t looking out for them at all. One’s hurt, one might be missing . . . I’m just scared all around. And I’ve been afraid to show you any of that, because I don’t want you to worry more. I hate that I’m causing . . . any of what you’re feeling. I hate it.” My voice broke on the last word and tears filled my eyes.
He looked up, his gaze intense. Now he wasn’t looking at me like a fragile specimen—he was really looking at me, his dark eyes piercing my soul.
“I miss you,” he said, his voice low and charged. And I knew he didn’t just mean for these past couple days.
My heart clenched again.
“I miss you too,” I said, brushing that wild lock of dark hair off his forehead. We were very close now and I had that feeling of being surrounded by him—his solidness, his intoxicating rainstorm scent. I felt a stab of longing low in my belly, so visceral it took my breath away.
So I closed the last few millimeters of space between us and kissed him. He groaned low in his throat—a sound that reverberated through my entire body, stoking my longing even more. I ran my greedy hands over his shoulders, thrilling at every hard ridge of muscle, everything I hadn’t been able to touch in what felt like forever. Then he pulled me into his lap, his arms going around me. Never breaking the kiss. His hands slid under my shirt, the heat of his palms against my bare skin making me shiver. I teased his lips open, stroking my tongue with his. I felt insatiable. The pregnancy hormones were turned all the way up again, and he hadn’t touched me this way in so fucking long and was this really finally happening—
“Wait!” I yelped, breaking the kiss.
“What?” He was breathing hard, his eyes wild. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted to . . .”
“I do,” I hastily assured him. “Believe me, there is nothing in the whole entire world I want more. I, uh, just remembered something I need to do first. Wait here. Don’t move. Oh, and . . .” I searched his face. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re not worried about my blood pressure? Because as much as I want this—”
Shut up, my pregnancy hormones screamed at me. You’re ruining it!
“As much as I want this,” I repeated, shooing my hormones to the side, “I don’t want to worry you. I really, really don’t.”
He gave me a slight smile, looking like he was trying to focus on my words. But he was still breathing hard and his eyes kept drifting to my lips. “Doctor Goo said it’s all right, didn’t she?” he managed. “And I should trust her. I should trust you. I did not mean to make you feel as if you are incompetent in some way, or like you can’t handle your mission here. I am trying to work through my . . . issues.”
I jumped up and put my hands on my hips. “Then like I said: wait here. I’ll be right back.”
I marched into the tiny dorm room closet and rifled through various piles of clothes until I found what I was looking for—the boxes Aveda and I had shoved in here earlier.
The Sexy Superheroine costume was not easy to put on, but after much trial and error, I figured out what limb went where, what each hole was actually for. Thin ribbons went over my shoulders and held two minuscule scraps of red lace over my nipples. More ribbons were attached to those scraps, leading down to another bit of lace covering my crotch. Yet more ribbons laced across my torso and criss-crossed a few times, making me look like an enticingly wrapped birthday present. I removed the cape, which seemed like it was only going to get in the way. But I put on the tiara and the thigh-high boots. Why not?
There was no mirror in the closet, so I wasn’t sure if the whole contraption actually looked “sexy.” But it definitely looked “pretty damn close to naked,” and I was confident Nate would find that part appealing.
I took a few deep breaths, adjusted things, made sure all the lace scraps were in place.
Then I flung the closet door open and stepped out.
“Hey,” I said. “I got this little surprise for you.”
I realized, belatedly, that I had no idea how to stand in this thing to actually get it to stay in place. If I leaned just the wrong way, it was going to bunch up weird or accidentally expose something or simply turn into a big old mess.
Nevertheless, I pressed onward.
“What do you think?” I continued, my voice husky.
He was speechless, his eyes widening, his breath speeding up. His gaze locked on me, darkening in that way that meant he was only thinking of one thing. That he could only think of one thing.
“Come here,” he said, his voice even deeper than usual.
A thrill raced up my spine and I made a big show of walking over slowly—also so I wouldn’t trip on one of my stiletto-heeled boots and fall on my face. That was definitely not sexy.
When I reached him, I put my hands on his chest and gently pushed him farther back on the bed, so his back was against the wall. Then I climbed onto his lap, straddling him. His hands went to my hips—and I noticed they were shaking a little.
“Wh-what is this?” he managed, toying with one of the thin ribbon straps.
“It’s my Sexy Superheroine Halloween costume,” I said, resting my hands on his shoulders and maneuvering myself firmly against that growing hardness I felt pressing between my legs. “And I’m only wearing it for you. Do you like it?”
“I . . .” He slipped a finger underneath the ribbon strap, stroking my skin. “I like you naked. And this is pretty fucking close. So, yes.”
He slid the strap down my shoulder, leaning in to kiss my neck. His mouth was hot and hungry, his teeth grazing my delicate flesh.
“Oh . . .” I sighed, leaning into it. After being deprived of his touch for so long, I was overwhelmed, shockwaves coursing through my entire body, already getting me so close . . .
“You taste so fucking good,” he growled, running his big hands up my back, his fingertips plucking at the ribbons wrapped around my torso. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“Keep doing that,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. “Keep your mouth on me . . . just . . . like . . . that . . .”
His lips moved lower, nibbling my collarbone, every touch making me want him more. Then his thumb brushed the lace over my nipple and I moaned, pressing myself even more firmly against him.
“Hey!” Someone in the room next to ours banged on the wall. “Keep it down over there, I’m trying to study!”
“Oh!” I clapped my hand over my mouth, my face flushing. “I . . . I forgot we’re in such close quarters.” I glanced down at the narrow twin bed. “And this is probably gonna be hard to maneuver in. I’ve never actually had dorm room sex. Aveda would probably say this is another classic college experience I’m having for the first time, and oh god, what if Aveda comes barging back in, I forgot to put a scrunchie on the door—”
“Evie.” Nate cocked an eyebrow at me, amusement dancing through his eyes. He ran his hands over my hips, his touch feather-light, tracing irresistible patterns. Then he leaned in again, brushing his lips against my ear. “I thought you wanted to fuck.”
He drew out that last word, making it sound extra filthy. Heat flashed through my entire body and any thoughts of the annoyed person in the next room and the tiny twin bed and Aveda interrupting us flew out of my head.
“I-I do,” I gasped.
He pulled back, studying my face, and reached up to cup my cheek. His hair was tousled, his lips a little swollen. But it was his eyes that captured me, like they always did. They were dark and wild, and he looked like he wanted to devour me whole. There was always something completely intoxicating about seeing Nate—usually so gruff and formal and serious—looking like he was about to completely lose control.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
And then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to my neck again.
“Do you have more costumes?” he asked, his breath hot against my skin.
“Yes,” I gasped. “I mean, uh . . . I do have more. One more. It’s a Sexy Professor costume. Aveda actually got it for me. It’s because of this fantasy I have . . .”
“Fantasy?” His mouth moved lower, his teeth nipping at the slope of my breast. “Tell me about that.”
“I . . . uh . . . a little distracted right now,” I said, my voice high and breathy.
“Tell me about it,” he said, his tone low and commanding. “And I’ll keep doing this.”
And then he slid that scrap of lace aside and slipped my nipple into his mouth.
“Oh . . . oh god . . .” White-hot heat engulfed me and I felt like I was about to explode. “It’s . . .” His teeth scraped against my nipple and I cried out, leaning into it, wanting more. Wanting him.
The fact that I was basically naked, writhing against him, and he was still fully clothed . . .
I moaned again, overwhelmed with desire.
“Keep talking,” he murmured against my skin.
“I, um . . . it was something from my grad school days,” I said, my words spilling out in a rush. “Involving a hot stranger and nighttime and my office and my desk . . . getting fucked against my desk . . .”
“What was it you liked about that?” he said, his hand going to the small of my back and pulling me harder against him. “What did you want out of it?”
“I . . .” I closed my eyes, leaning into the sensation of his mouth on me, his cock pressed against me. I could barely keep a single thought in my head.
“Tell me,” he insisted, his voice rough.
“I was always so . . . so overwhelmed at grad school. Trying to keep my life together. It felt like I had neverending responsibilities and someone was always asking me for something and I was so . . . so tired. All the time. I was tied up in knots suppressing my fire power and I always had to be so in control of everything—there was no other option but to be in control of everything. I just wanted someone else to be in charge, just for a minute. To know exactly what I wanted and . . . and to take care of me.”
“And you never got to fulfill this fantasy?” he said.
“N-no,” I managed, as his tongue traced my nipple. “I tried to get Richard to do it, but he never—”
“What?” Nate’s head jerked up, his face clouding over. “This fantasy involved Richard?”
Fuck.
“No,” I said hastily. “Of course not. I mean, I told him about it because we were sleeping together, but—”
“It was something you wanted to do with him. Something you imagined doing . . . with him.”
“I guess? But only because he was there. I didn’t . . .”
“Evie . . .” He frowned, all of that intensity and desire from before dissipating on the spot. He gently removed me from his lap, setting me back on the bed. His expression was back to being distant and unreadable.
“I . . .” He shook his head, staring into space. Looking lost again. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Nate.” I laid a hand on his arm. His demeanor had changed so fast. “What just happened? We were having such a good time. Why are you . . . Richard repulses me now. I’ve tried to tell you that. I don’t know why you can’t accept—”
“Why I can’t accept that you were hanging out in the dark with your ex, looking like you were about to . . .” He shook his head again, as if trying to get free of the image. “The way he was looking at you—he still feels something for you. And now you’re telling me he was part of this sexual fantasy you’re still thinking about—”
“He’s not part of it!” I protested.
I slid the flimsy ribbon strap up my shoulder, trying valiantly to pull the scraps of lace back into place. I felt ridiculous—almost naked in my sad little costume, nipples hanging out, a heady mix of frustration and hormones raging through me again. Why was he letting this get to him? Why . . .
“Nate,” I said, my voice plaintive. “Can we please just go back to . . .”
“No.” He frowned at me, his expression hardening. “You’re still keeping secrets from me. And . . . and I think you keep wanting us to have sex because you think it will magically fix everything between us. But it won’t, Evie. I can see that now.”
“Then let’s talk about this,” I blurted out. “Why can’t we just . . .”
I trailed off. What, exactly, did I want us to do? I wrapped my arms around my body, a sudden chill sweeping over me. I wished I hadn’t ripped off the cape part of the costume.
He studied me, his anger dissipating, only to be replaced with something much worse. Now he looked . . . sad.
“I think,” he said slowly, “it might be best if we spent some time apart. You finish your mission here. I’ll go back to HQ. And perhaps we can talk at a later date. We should check in about the baby, of course. But talking about us always seems to end badly at the moment.”
“How can you do that?” I protested. “How can you just go all cold like that?”
“I’m not being cold. I’m being logical.”
“Nate.” I looked up at him beseechingly, still feeling foolish in the sad scraps of my “sexy” costume. “How can you just . . . go? Remember when we first . . . when we first started. You were so all in. From the very beginning. You never wavered, you were just all in. Why . . .” My voice wobbled and a tear slipped down my cheek. “Why can’t you be all in now?”
He regarded me for a long moment, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Like it was taking the strength of every cell in his body to hold himself together. Then he leaned over and brushed a soft, sad kiss against my forehead.
“I am,” he said, getting to his feet. He regarded me for one moment more. “But I’m not sure you are.”
And then he was gone.
I gathered the remnants of my sad, skimpy superheroine costume around me and sobbed.