Take A Number - Amy Daws Page 0,77
worried about him and his bad-boy ways…especially with that French horn he wouldn’t go anywhere without.”
Carol interjects on her son’s behalf. “That French horn got our son a music scholarship, thank you very much.” She pats Nate’s arm affectionally, and Nate rolls his eyes and shoots me a wink.
“You played French horn in college?” Dean asks, leaning over to drape his arm on the back of my chair. This is the first time he’s said a word since ushering that girl away, and I’m watching his every move like a hawk.
“For the first two years,” Nate replies sheepishly. “I realized it wasn’t exactly helping me with the ladies so I quit and spent time at the campus gym instead.”
“You look incredible,” my mother says, eyeing him appreciatively as she swirls her wine. The entire act annoys the shit out of me because she’s barely looked at Dean this entire evening. “What kind of workout regime do you do? I’m looking to change mine up a bit. My aqua aerobics isn’t challenging me enough.”
“I do a lot of boot camps,” Nate says with a nod and puffs his chest out a bit. “Kickboxing, taekwondo. Extreme weight lifting. Anything with a little rough contact…I’m into it.” He smiles at me again, and I swear he flexes his arm in his dress shirt. “How about you, Norah? Do you like a little rough contact?”
My cheeks flame with how awkward that question is. I dab at my upper lip and murmur, “Um…I give my croinut dough a good beating some days, I guess.”
Nate laughs a little too loudly and shakes his head admirably. “Still adorable as ever.”
“I’m a runner,” Dean interjects, tilting his head and eyeing Nate with a look that doesn’t seem all that friendly. “I like my life so I don’t feel the need to take out any aggression on inanimate objects.”
My lips part in surprise at the obvious challenge in Dean’s tone to Nate. What is he trying to do right now?
“Who says they’re inanimate?” Nate waggles his brows suggestively and I can’t help but frown because…ew, it has a sexual assault tone to it. “Oh man, that reminds me…Norah, do you remember when we were kids and we tried to leapfrog over those electrical boxes on the side of the road and I biffed it and landed on my chest?”
I can’t help but burst out laughing because the image of Nate eating shit explodes in my mind. “Oh my God, I had totally forgotten about that! You couldn’t catch your breath and I nearly peed my pants from laughing so hard.”
Nate and I both keel over laughing, and my mother’s scolding voice echoes in my ear, “Norah! That doesn’t sound funny at all. That sounds dangerous. What were you two doing near electrical boxes?”
“I don’t know,” I reply with a laugh and a shrug. “We were dumb kids, I guess. And man, that day must have given me brain damage because I always laugh when people get hurt. It’s so messed up.”
“Probably why we were so close,” Nate replies, draping his arm over the back of my chair on the other side. “I was always hurting myself. I was such a klutz.”
“Well.” I pat him playfully on the arm. “You clearly grew into your own skin. I bet you could clear that electric box easily now.”
“We should try it out later.”
“In this dress and heels? I’ll be the one eating dirt this time!”
Nate and I continue laughing for a moment and I glance over at Dean who looks decidedly annoyed. Maybe it was one of those stories where you had to be there?
“Nathaniel, have you found a place to live yet?” my mom chimes in just as the food is placed in front of us.
“I’m afraid not. There are not a lot of options in the higher price-point I’m looking for.”
“What a pity,” Mom replies. “You should talk to Dan Scott, he has some beautiful properties and some very affluent clients.”
While they begin discussing Dan Scott’s properties, I nudge Dean and pull his gaze away from his steak. “You okay?”
He furrows his brow and digs into his food. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know, you seem tense.”
“I’m fine,” he clips back coolly.
I take a quick bite and ask quietly, “Who was that earlier?”
“Who was who?” he asks, still avoiding eye contact with me.
My brows lift. “The uh, waitress girl.” I keep my voice low so the others can’t hear us.
Dean purses his lips and shakes his head. “Just someone