Part 120 (2/2)

I huff as Riley holds a hushed conversation with her mum and stares at the floor. No wonder that Mitch.e.l.l guy is all over her. Riley dresses smartly almost always. In Yorks.h.i.+re, her natural look drew me in, but tonight she's dressed to match her occasion. Not just the black and gold in her clothes, but the poise and attention. She again plays with her earring in the familiar way, and my heart tears that I could already have lost this amazing woman.

38.

RILEY.

I end the call and look back to Nate, fighting the dizziness from my shallow breathing, and pray he doesn't spot how freaked out I am by his approaching me. I want to be angry with him, but the emotion won't come. Nate's edgy, despite his cool demeanour, and although he's friendly, I'm unsure how long this will last. One of us is bound to overstep and drag us into a fight.

”Where can we talk?” he asks.

This insistence worries me too. If Nate has something to say, and I put him off, he might not try again. But if Nate has come to me for support around his heart-breaking story of why he refuses to love, I can't listen. Of course, I hurt for him over his situation six years ago, but I can't be a friend to Nate. Not because I'm back to disliking the man, but because I want more than he's prepared to give. I want all of him - body, heart and soul. But I don't want to be rejected; I deserve better.

”What is there to talk about? Have you changed your mind about something?” I ask.

Nate stares at his shoes and runs a hand through his hair. ”I've thought about this, us, over and over the last few days. I don't know what to do, Riley. I'm not sure I can deal with Josh and that kind of pressure.” He glances up at me. ”I thought, maybe we could... I can ignore the fact you have a kid as long as you still have time to spend with me.”

The need to throw heavy words at Nate rises, to switch on the aggression in an attempt to hide the hurt. Does he want to dismiss my son as an optional extra?

”Whoa. You want me to pretend Josh doesn't exist and go back to s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g you on a random basis?”

”Why not? You did before.”

Anger bubbles beneath the surface. I close my eyes and count down the seconds before I explode. How dare Nate behave the way he did and then waltz in as if I'll drop everything because I can't live without him.

”s.h.i.+t. That came out wrong, Riley, I-”

”The words were perfectly clear to me. No f.u.c.king way, Nate,” I growl. ”Go back to your vapid girls and meaningless s.e.x.” I ready myself to walk away, then pause. ”Exactly how long have you thought that's an option, Nate?”

Nate screws his face up. ”When I saw you tonight. Yeah, stupid idea.”

I lower my voice. ”I've found some peace around my life as a mother and I'm ready to move on. I am not having anybody in my life who's toxic for me and my son.”

Nate s.h.i.+fts uncomfortably but looks away.

”I'm moving on from the secrets I should never have kept, and the fear I might fall in love again. Now, if I fall for somebody, it happens, but the somebody will not be you. I want a man in my life who'll love and respect both me and Josh.”

Nate snaps his head up. ”You want someone to love you? Since when? I thought you only wanted casual?”

”Isn't love what normal people want? I'm willing to try with the right person. To try to have a normal life.”

The old confusion is in Nate's eyes as he studies me. Why can't this man let go and be the one I glimpsed a month ago? ”Yeah.”

I press fingers to my forehead. ”I wish you wouldn't do that!”

”What?”

”Say 'yeah' when you have a hundred other words in your mind you could use instead.”

Nate's semi-smirk appears and he bites his lip. ”Yeah.”

”You infuriating man!” My words catch in my throat, the emotional maelstrom of the last week unleashes as the tears escape.

Nate straightens, panic in his wide eyes. ”Riley.”

Weak, stupid... I turn from him and stumble to the nearby staff room, p.i.s.sed off that my eyes blur. Thankful n.o.body else is in earshot, or in the room, I step inside. My attempt to shut the door on Nate fails, and he pushes past.

I turn my back to him and attempt to hide tears I'm wiping away. I catch the edges of the security blanket in my mind and pull the comforting darkness back around me.

But with Nate in the room, this doesn't work.

”s.h.i.+t, Riley,” Nate says in a low voice. ”I'm sorry.” The vehement words build, hurting my head as I try to contain them. ”I didn't mean to hurt you again tonight.”

”It's okay,” I tense as my voice cracks. ”Please leave me alone.”

”No. I care about you.”

”You don't care about anybody but yourself.”

”I care about you,” he repeats. ”Otherwise I wouldn't've followed you in here.”

I turn slowly, clinging to the edge of my clouding rationality. He has to go before I lose my temper. Or worse, collapse in tears. ”I can't do this anymore, Nate. You did the right thing walking away. Rejecting me when you found out about Josh was better than keeping this going. We should stay away from each other.” Proud of myself for hanging on to the professional calm I perfected years ago, I hold his gaze. ”At least we're civil now.”

”s.h.i.+t.” Nate's voice hoa.r.s.ens. ”I can try, Riley. I want to try.”

”Try what? Hook ups? Not happening.”

”Try us.”

I cross my arms against him, us, this. ”Don't. Don't say that. There isn't an us.”

”There always was.” He rests against the edge of the table beneath the window and looks up at the ceiling. ”Right from the start. The first night. On tour. Two years. The snow. We've always been something.”

”No,” I whisper. ”No, we haven't.”

He looks directly at me, looking through to the place I'm trying to hide from him. ”We've always been Nate and Riley to everybody else and just never admitted it to each other. Nothing's changed.”

”Yes it has! Everything's changed. This isn't the same anymore.” Each moment, every word and my heart thumps louder; every second and the truth rises closer to the surface.

”What? How?”

”I didn't always love you!” Holy c.r.a.p. I slam a hand over my mouth, as I share his look of horror. Nate grips the edge of the table, and the small s.p.a.ce of the room constricts. I'm on the verge of walking out, but my jelly legs won't move.

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