Once Upon A Half-Time: A Sports Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,115

California. I figure it’ll get me away from my family, let me hang out on the coast, get some sun. Have fun.”

“You’re serious?”

“I found a spot in Santa Barbara to check out next month. If I like it, I might put in an offer.”

“And you’d want to live out there?”

“Don’t get worried.”

“I’m not worried.”

I lied. I was terrified.

“I’ll be back for the wedding. Wouldn’t miss that—Lindsey would kill me.” He winked. “But I can’t skip out on this chance. I’ve wanted to get away and build something of my own since Arrogance took off.”

Oh God. He had plans. A whole life of pseudo-vagrancy and craftsmanship ahead of him.

He had no idea I was pregnant, never even considered it a possibility, and I had to tell him he couldn’t pursue his life’s dream?

Hell no. I wasn’t telling him about the baby now. I couldn’t.

Not yet. Not until I knew how I’d manage it.

That took time and planning, and I would have to survive until the wedding when I could finally get a clear enough head and schedule to focus on what to do.

And I still didn’t know how he’d take the news. Would he be angry? Would he get upset?

If I hadn’t figured out how to deal with it yet, how could I help him through it?

“I’m serious about the date,” he said.

I blinked. “What?”

“About taking you out. You want to be wined and dined before I take you to bed. I think I can handle that.”

I shook my head. “It’s not going to happen.”

“Mandy, I don’t chase girls.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Yeah,” Nate said, his voice low. “Me too. I don’t do this. I don’t make an idiot out of myself begging a pretty girl for her company. But there’s something about you I can’t get out of my head.”

“Nate—”

“I always thought wanting someone was painful—an ache or a throbbing need. This isn’t agony. This is pleasure. I want to see you, talk with you. I hope to God I might be able to kiss you once before you push me away.”

“We can’t.”

“I won’t ask for another night with you, not when I know I’d be back in this torture the instant you left my bed.”

He reached for me, and I let his hand graze my cheek.

It’d be so easy to say yes. He’d ease the ache inside me; take away the worry for a few minutes. We fit together so perfectly before. Maybe it would be worth it? I could test it. See if we had any hope of duct taping the fragments of this fairy tale into some sort of happily-ever-after.

But that was foolish. And dangerous. I couldn’t let myself get crushed by my crush, not when he already wielded so much power over me.

How the hell could I explain what I wanted, needed, had to deal with, confused me, ripped through me, kept me up at night, burned inside of me…

I had to get out of here.

“You’re smooth,” I said. “Very convincing.”

“It’s the truth. Not many girls get that from me.” His voice lowered. “Why don’t you start telling me the truth too?”

My heart thudded a little too hard. I would tell him the truth. Eventually. Once I figured it out for myself. But the words stuck in my throat, and nothing I did could force them out.

I shook my head. “I have to go. We’re supposed to go shoe shopping, and Lindsey wants me to wear her heels to stretch them out before the wedding—”

“At some point, you might have to tell your family no.”

I had a whole lot more to tell them, and right now yes was the easiest and caused the least trouble. I shrugged.

“Thanks for letting us use your pub.”

“You can repay me. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight.”

He was relentless. I smiled. “Don’t hold your breath.”

“The invitation’s on the table.”

“And here I thought it was in the bed.”

“There’s a variety of invitations, and you’re welcomed to take any or all of them.”

“Good to know.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Wear something sexy.”

“Garters and high heels.” I laughed. “With little tassels for my nipples.”

“It would make a statement.” He winked. “But your tits are perfect without decorations.”

“Thanks, I think.” I turned to the door but couldn’t help myself. “And thanks for what you said earlier.”

“About what?”

I swallowed. “That we’re…friends. I could use a friend right now.”

“You could use more than that.”

Probably, but for now, I needed to know I had someone in my corner, even if he didn’t know why we hid there.

My life was